The Friday Society (28 page)

There was a click, and suddenly the whole door just slid to the side.

Standing before them, silhouetted by the blue-green light of the room, was Mr. Staunch. His glowing eyes narrowed when he recognized his visitors. The gears inside spun. He produced a familiar looking gun and aimed it.

Michiko was standing directly opposite him. She took one look at the eyes and punched him across the face. Then she punched him in the solar plexus, and, as he keeled over, she ducked down and tossed him over her shoulder. He rolled past Nellie and Cora, into the trip wires where he flailed about as hundreds of poison darts flew at him, sticking into his flesh. For a few moments he writhed in the wires like a fly caught in a spiderweb. Then his gun fell to the ground. He stopped twitching.

Michiko was lying flat on her stomach. Nellie came over and helped her to stand.

“Good job,” she said.

It was impossible to read Michiko’s expression, what with the mask and all, but a muffled voice from behind it said, “Machine eyes?”

“Yes, Dr. Mantis has a strange obsession. Shall we carry on?” asked Cora, passing into the room. The other girls followed.

47

More Fun Times . . .

“
K
EEP YOUR WITS
about you. They know we’re here.”

“I know this place,” said Nellie as they walked to the center of the room.

“You do?”

“It’s a lot like Dr. Mantis’s office at the Medical and Scientific Institute, with jars of body parts everywhere. But there was no table . . .” They all looked at the white-padded table with leather straps attached to it. Nellie felt a shiver run up her spine. “Can we get out of here?”

“Yes, of course.”

They crossed to the other side of the room, where they were met with two doors. Both seemed easy enough to open.

“You take one, I’ll take the other. One of them has to be an exit,” said Cora, placing herself in front of the door on the left.

Nellie nodded, but after meeting Mr. Staunch so unexpectedly, she found the idea of just opening a door a rather daunting prospect.

“One,” counted Cora. “Two . . .” She heard the sound of a sword being unsheathed behind her as Michiko stood prepared. “Three.”

Nellie opened her door wide and . . . found herself facing an empty hallway, much like the one they’d been in before.
Well, that was anticlimactic.

There was a scream, and Nellie looked to the side just in time to see a monstrous arm reach for and then grab Cora by the throat. The screaming stopped instantly as the hand squeezed, and Nellie watched as Michiko sliced the arm off at the elbow. Cora fell back and threw the arm to one side. Nellie sprang into action, and pushed against Cora’s door to slam it closed. Something came up against it, though, and pushed back.

“Help, please!” Nellie called out. Her breath froze in the air, and she realized that whatever was beyond that door was freezing cold.

Cora and Michiko were at her side in a flash, and all three girls pushed hard. But the thing on the other side pushed harder. For a while it was a standoff, a stalemate, with the door neither closing nor opening. “Can you hold it much longer?” asked Nellie.

Cora didn’t say anything, just shook her head.

“I’m thinkin’ we’ve got to just let go and run out the door I opened. Just make a run for it.”

“I think you’re right. Ready?” asked Cora, her voice straining with effort.

“When we let go, head to the door. Got that, Silver Heart?” instructed Nellie. But she had no idea if Michiko got it or not. She just had to hope.

“NOW!”

They released the door then flew out the other door into the hall. Once Michiko joined them, Nellie reached back into the room to close the door behind them. But something got there first and tore the door right off its hinges.

Nellie backed away quickly to join the other girls, who were standing, staring in shock.

Looming in the now-wide doorway was . . . something. For all the world, it looked like a human, but something about it was off, something wasn’t quite right. This man-creature was bigger, taller, and wider than a human being, and the bits of him didn’t seem to match.

That’s because, Nellie realized, they
didn’t
match. The arm was a bit larger than the shoulder socket it was thrust into, and the torso and neck held up a strangely smaller head. The eyes were too close together, the mouth too wide. Strange, too, was the fact that despite the creature’s forearm having been severed clear off his body, and the black blood seeping from the wound onto the ground, it, or he, seemed to feel no pain, nor even to be aware that he, or it, was missing a part.

“He’s made up of bits,” said Nellie.

“He’s not the only one,” Cora replied.

As the creature stumbled into the hall, Nellie noticed what Cora already had already observed: The man-creature wasn’t alone. There were more of his kind stumbling their way toward the door, making strange groaning sounds as they lumbered along.

“It’s as if they were being stored in a freezer box,” said Cora.

“Yes.”

“They don’t seem to feel pain.”

“Yes.”

“I think it’s likely we’re going to have to destroy them all.”

“Yes.”

Without a word, Michiko charged the creatures. The speed with which she attacked was impressive. She cut and thrust, and spun and jumped, and in the end she cut the first three creatures into pieces.

“She’s going to exhaust herself. Can we do anything . . . ?” said Nellie in a strange sort of awe.

“Look,” said Cora, pointing to the ground at one of the severed arms.

The arm had started to pull itself forward on its own volition and, at the same time, the legs of the creature found its torso and reconnected with it.

“It’s puttin’ itself back together. What kind of black magic—”

“Silver Heart, Lady Sparkle, get behind me, now,” ordered Cora.

Nellie looked at Cora, who had a very serious expression on her face, and did what she was told, grabbing Michiko.

“There’s only one thing for this. You two go on. I’m not sure how powerful this thing will turn out to be.”

Cora pulled out a small cylindrical brass object from its holster on her right hip and pushed a button on its underside. There was a moment during which nothing happened. And then . . .

It looked like her costume had suddenly sprung to life. The pieces of metal and gears that decorated it began to move. They turned and then started to travel across her body in a pattern that seemed very deliberate, all heading toward the cylinder Cora was holding. They collected and joined with one another, and, as they slid off her torso toward the growing cylinder, the plain leather corset and white shirt she was wearing were revealed.

Then there was stillness. Even the lumbering creatures had stopped to watch the show. And then, in Cora’s hand, supported at her hip, was a large rather intimidating gun.

She looked over her shoulder and, seeing that both Nellie and Michiko were still there, yelled,
“Go!”

Nellie took a step back and watched as a light started to glow at the back of the cylinder. She took another step back, then another, and another.

Cora fired the weapon at the closest creature. The weapon made almost no sound except for a high-pitched
whoosh
as its projectile—whatever it was—since there was nothing to see—traveled toward the creature.

The creature evaporated before their very eyes. It made a slight
pop
sound, and then all that was left was a fine black mist.

“Oh my God.”

“I said go,” ordered Cora again, not turning around this time. Just firing shot after shot as the creatures realized they had a new enemy to conquer.

Nellie felt Michiko pull on her arm, and she finally started running down the hall. They were running without any idea where they were going, and their desperation probably explained why neither of them noticed the trip wire, brightly lit, crossing the hall.

Within seconds, a heavy net had fallen on top of them, and they were flattened to the ground. Instantly, Michiko had one of her daggers out and was cutting through it. A shadow appeared above them, and then another and another.

* * *

C
ORA DISINTEGRATED THE
last of the creatures and turned around to join Nellie and Michiko only to find them standing directly behind her. They were each being held firmly by two large men in lab coats. The girls’ masks dangled around their necks.
So much for secret identities.
A third man, whom she recognized as Dr. Mantis, stood staring at her in disbelief.

“You destroyed my babies,” he said softly.

“I’m . . . sorry.” Cora pushed her goggles up onto her forehead.

“You certainly will be. Give me that,” he said, extending his hand toward the Chekhov.

Cora laughed. “No, I don’t think I will.”

“Give it to me, or I’ll take it.”

“Or maybe I’ll have to disintegrate you, too. How about that?”

Dr. Mantis took a step toward her. “Do you know the difference between you and me?” he asked in that quiet voice of his.

“Aside from the fact that I have hair?”

“The difference between us is that I have no compunction about killing people.” He walked toward her until he had pressed his body against the Chekhov. “I don’t think it’s the same for you.”

Cora stared into his bloodshot eyes. She could do it. Couldn’t she?

Damn
.

She gave him the weapon.

48

And Now . . . the Fog

T
HE THREE GIRLS
were marched into a giant, cavernous space carefully buttressed against collapse by thick iron beams and struts. It had an almost cathedral-like appearance, the lancet arches flying up into the shadows above. Along the walls, there were several large round holes that looked to be tunnels leading . . . who knew where. All sorts of contraptions ticked and hissed away on tables and even on the floor, and as the girls made their way into the room, a dozen or so men, all properly dressed in lab coats, stopped running their various experiments and looked at them.

The girls were ushered down a set of stairs to the main level and toward the rear of a room where a raised platform had been constructed and an ornate wooden desk sat.

And in the chair behind the desk, fingers drumming impatiently on the hilt of a cavalry saber, was sitting . . .

“Who the hell are you?” asked Cora, flabbergasted that the Fog should be a total stranger. After all the novels she’d read, she’d sort of assumed that he would be someone she knew.

Then again, she also assumed he would be . . . well . . . a he.

The woman sitting behind the desk looked mildly insulted by the question.

“You don’t recognize me?”

Cora looked at the woman carefully. She was probably in her mid-forties, her face, sharply angled, seemed a little wan, a little drained of life. Her dark auburn hair she wore loose, falling in waves over her lab coat. Hanging around her neck was a very familiar device, the one Cora had spent far too many hours on. Okay, yes, there was something vaguely familiar about her, actually. Still . . .

“Not really, no.”

“Do
you
?” the woman asked, looking at Nellie.

Nellie shook her head and almost looked embarrassed that she didn’t.

The woman placed her sword to one side and leaned back in her seat. “Well, isn’t that typical. I thought maybe someone of my own gender might notice me. But clearly I was wrong.”

“Stop pouting and tell us who you are,” Cora said sharply.

The woman looked at her and gave her a wry smile. “My name is Jane Webb. And I work the front desk at the Medical and Scientific Institute.”

“Oh my God, yes! Now I remember,” said Cora in amazement. “But . . . you helped me. You told me where they’d taken Nellie.”

The Fog rose and held up a finger. “First of all,” she said, moving to the front of her desk, “that whole kidnapping murder thing, that had nothing to do with me. Dr. Mantis has his . . . projects. He’s been kind enough to assist me with mine. As you see, there are many other experiments being carried out down here by various gentlemen, but our interests vary widely. And second, since both of you came in search of those two fools, I thought maybe you were on my trail. Clearly, I thought right. So I had no compunction sending them after you. My hope was that they’d get rid of you. Obviously, they didn’t.”

Well, that was interesting.

“Why are you doing this?” asked Cora. “I don’t see the point.”

“Of blowing up the city?”

“Well, threatening to blow up the city.”

The Fog smiled. “I think both you and I know that the government isn’t going to pay the money.”

“So you’re really going to blow it up?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Glad you asked. Because I can. Because I want to prove that I can.”

“But . . .” and again “Why?” Was there an advantage to keeping the fog woman talking? Clearly she wanted to, and to be perfectly honest, Cora did kind of want to know the answer to her question.

“
Why?
Do you know how long I’ve worked at the institute?”

“No,” said Nellie.

“That was a rhetorical—oh, never mind. Anyway, I’ve worked there since I was younger than you are now. At first I was just a happy assistant. But as I got to know the men, and they me, I was invited to watch certain experiments. It got to the point where I was invited to assist. Even given small tasks to do on my own. You can imagine how it grew from there.

“By now I’d say I’ve worked on almost every kind of experiment there is. There was even a time when I was considering going to medical college. But the men at the institute convinced me it wasn’t worth it. Why go elsewhere and fight to be respected when all of them there knew just how much of a genius I was? Enough to do all the hard work, but not enough to join their super-secret club.”

“The Society of Heroes.”

“Yes. For no good reason, it was a ‘no girls allowed’ affair, and nothing I said could convince them I should be a member. Then one day that idiot Thompkins mentioned that the society had come up with a brilliant new invention, inspired evidently by an article about the exhibit from the Library of Alexandria that was coming to the British Museum. Something about some long-lost scrolls. Thompkins realized that if what they hinted at were true, a bomb could be manufactured, one that used uranium, and that could destroy an entire city. It was all a theory, of course. None of those fools knew how to put it together. So I offered to try, in exchange for membership.”

“What’s uranium?” asked Nellie.

“Something that your magician friend can easily come by.”

“What?” Cora glanced at Nellie, who looked utterly bewildered.

“In any event, the deal was that if I could make it, I could be a member. And they would act as my assistants, should I need them. However, it was clear that the society was very divided about the moral implications of creating such a bomb. There were some who helped, who engineered this fantastic space you see here, and thought it so fine that they brought some of their more questionable experiments along with them. There were others, however, like Dr. Thompkins, who thought that a bomb of such destructive power should never be created. He tried to sabotage the experiment.”

“I can understand that,” said Cora.

“Can you? How . . . empathetic of you. At any rate, Mr. Proper informed Dr. Thompkins about a recent order he’d placed with the Great Raheem for something from Africa. Mr. Proper was as excited about meeting the Great Raheem as he was about picking up the shipment from him. He’s a fan, evidently. Well, the second Thompkins heard about this, he decided to go to the Great Raheem and warn him not to hand over the shipment. But I followed him and shot him with a poison dart.”

“Why a poison dart?” asked Nellie.

“It was all I had on me at the time. Do you want to hear the story or not?”

“Of course I do.”

“We needed more and more money, and the society’s principal backer, one Mr. Carter, was getting nervous. Especially after I killed off Dr. Thompkins. He pulled his funding.”

“So you killed him?”

“Yes. Because otherwise people would think they could walk all over me.”

“I see . . .”

“But last night . . . last night was the crux of it all. Finally, everything had come together. You see, I’d had to wait until the exhibit came to the British Museum so I could acquire the final set of instructions, the final piece of the puzzle. Further, it was important I leave it all till the last minute. I assumed someone would get suspicious about the robberies and killings, and I didn’t want to give anyone enough time to piece it together.”

“But we did.”

“Yes, you did. Aren’t you clever?”

“What were all the pieces for?”

“It’s complicated science stuff, but to be very basic about it: The cavorite would lift my bomb into the sky, the device I commissioned—which I’ll have you know, none of these fools could figure out how to make and I certainly didn’t have the time to work on—would operate it remotely. I needed the Koh-i-noor diamond because it was large enough to be placed at the bottom of the bomb’s casing to prevent the heat from the cavorite from igniting the bomb.”

Fine. “And the flowers.”

“What flowers?”

“Why did you kill all the flower girls? What was that for?” Cora could feel emotion rising up inside her as she said it.

The Fog stared at Cora and then shook her head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. You’re clearly an insane person.”

Cora was thunderstruck. But she believed what she heard. Of everything the Fog had said, this was something she trusted. Then . . . if not the Fog, who?

There was a frustrated sigh, and Cora turned to look at Michiko, who was clearly finding all this talking to be a huge waste of time. “So. Anyway. Back to my story,” said the Fog. “We were all here, the remaining members of the society, in my lovely little laboratory. We had dinner. I showed them my work. And you know what they said?”

“What?” asked Nellie, who seemed to understand that Cora was now speechless.

“That I couldn’t be a member. That I had no proof that the bomb worked. And even if it did, they had been the ones to come up with the plan in the first place.”

“Ouch,” said Nellie.

“Yes, that was what it felt like. Very ouch. So I decided I might as well show them.”

“But . . . why blow up the city? Surely you’ll suffer just like the rest of us,” said Cora, speaking up again.

“First of all, I’m far belowground, so I won’t get blown up. Second of all, you might say, ‘But what about the radiation?’”

“What’s radiation?” asked Nellie.

“Unpleasant,” replied the Fog. “Well, this series of tunnels follows along the Thames into the North Sea. Where I have a boat waiting.”

“That’s a long journey underground,” said Cora.

“I’m a clever girl. I have the means to travel it. You didn’t think I needed all that cavorite just for one little bomb, did you?” She rose from the desk and stepped off the platform. She gestured for them to follow her and they stopped before a strange-looking square device. “You strap it on your back. The rockets help propel you; the cavorite lifts you off the ground.”

“It’s a personal flying device?” asked Cora, fascinated.

“Yes. And it will make journeying through the tunnels much quicker.”

“What about everyone else?” Cora looked at the men in the room. They all seemed utterly uninterested in her conversation with the Fog and focused instead on their experiments, as if three costumed girls were a common occurrence here in their secret underground lab.

“What about them? In any event, when I’m on my boat, I will take the plans I have brought with me and go to Germany, where I already have a scheduled meeting with the Chancellor. He has promised me not only a high position in his government, with the respect I so rightfully deserve, but lots and lots of money to go with it.”

“I have a question,” Nellie said.

“Yes?”

“How could you have made this elaborate plan to meet with the Chancellor if you were only insulted yesterday?”

The Fog thought about this for a moment.

“I anticipated their response.”

“I see,” said Cora, rolling her eyes. “Well, I don’t know how much of your story is true. I only know none of it’s going to work.”

“Oh, come on. You’re not really going to try to stop me now, are you?”

“That was the plan.”

“Why don’t you come with me? You’re all so very impressive, and I think we girls ought to stick together.”
Right. With that one flying device you have there,
thought Cora.

“You tried to kill us,” said Nellie.

“To be fair, I only tried to kill you two. That one”—she pointed to Michiko—“I actually decided not to kill. I was impressed with her fighting. And, anyway, you managed not to get killed, and I find that impressive as well. Let’s form our own secret society. Only, no boys allowed this time.”

“You?” said Michiko, finally speaking up.

“Me?” said the Fog.

“You fight me? You Fog?” If Cora didn’t know better, she’d swear Michiko sounded indignant.

“Yes. Weren’t you paying attention?”

“Where beard?” Michiko asked.

“Yes, that’s a good point. What was with the beard?” asked Nellie.

“What’s with these costumes you’re wearing? A disguise, lovelies, a disguise. And why not throw them completely off the scent and make them think I’m a man?”

Well, now that they had all the information . . . “Can we see the bomb?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve already sent it up.”

Cora’s stomach fell. “How?”

“Through that tunnel there.” The Fog pointed to one of the large round holes in the wall. Up close, Cora realized that they were rather larger than she’d originally thought. Almost as tall as a she was. “That tunnel,” she said, pointing to another hole on the other side of the room, “was the one I sent the silly little normal bomb through yesterday. I know you didn’t ask, but I think it’s neat.”

“Well, thank you so much for sharing all this with us in such grand detail,” said Cora.

“It was my pleasure. Now,” said the Fog, turning to Dr. Mantis. “Pass me that enormous weapon you took off this girl.” Dr. Mantis, who had been following her around obediently, jumped into action and passed the Fog the Chekhov. She examined it closely. “Fascinating thing.”

“Wait,” said Cora, feeling a sudden panic rise, “you aren’t just going to kill us, are you?”

“Well, you don’t want to be part of my club, and that was just me joking anyway. Of course I’m going to kill you. I don’t trust you. You seem . . . awfully capable. Best to get rid of you, I think. Thanks for listening, though. It was a treat getting to brag like that. Let’s see this thing in action, shall we?”

The Fog aimed the gun at Cora and Cora stared down the barrel.

Oh God.

I’m going to die.