The Nekropolis Archives (79 page)

  "No, we are not," I agreed.

  "So that only leaves us one option I can see."

  I nodded. "The direct approach."

  She sighed. "I hate the direct approach."

  We headed across the street.

  The monsters continued to show no reaction to our presence as we drew near, though it was obvious they were watching us closely. When we reached the gate, the skull sentry swiveled its organic eyes to regard us.

  "You two have some serious
cojone
s to show yourselves here, you know that?" the sentry said. "You do realize we're in the process of destroying the city, right?"

  "We noticed," I said drily. "How about opening up and letting us in so we can tell your boss in person how much we admire his brilliant plan?"

  "Seriously?" the sentry said. "Is that the best you can come up with?"

  "I suppose I could've said 'Let us in so we can stop your boss,' but I thought that might be tipping our hand too much."

  The sentry glared at me.

  "Oh, I'll let you in all right, and when I do, my friends here will tear you into…" He trailed off, his gaze becoming unfocused as if he were listening to some inner voice. When his eyes refocused, he spoke in a monotone, as if mechanically repeating instructions he was being fed. "You've been granted safe passage. You'll be escorted to the Foundry. If you try anything even remotely suspicious, your escorts will kill you."

  The gate swung slowly open and a pair of Baron's creatures – one male, one female – stepped forward. They continued to eye us dispassionately, but I had no doubt they'd do as the sentry warned if we didn't behave ourselves. Devona and I stepped inside, and with the monsters flanking us, we headed up the driveway to the Foundry. The sentry closed the gate behind us, and the other monsters continued their silent watch.

  As we walked, I reached out to Devona's mind: Well, we're in.

  Yeah, we have Baron right where he wants us.

  I didn't have any witty rejoinder to that, especially since I was afraid she was right, so we continued the rest of the way to the Foundry in silence. The door opened as we approached to reveal a pair of men waiting for us.

  "Didn't think we'd see you here again," Burke said.

  "Took some slick detective work on his part to figure it out," Hare added.

  "Too right," Burke agreed. "Guess he's got a good head on his shoulders, eh?"

  "Has trouble keeping it attached, though," Hare said. He gave me a sly smile. "You really should pay more attention when you walk past dark alleys from now on."

  "I'll keep that in mind," I said.

  "Enough chit-chat," Burke said. He stepped back and motioned for us to enter. "His lordship is waiting."

  We walked inside, our two monstrous escorts trailing along behind. I hooked a thumb over my shoulder toward them. "Don't you two think you can handle us by yourselves? Then again, it did take both of you to get my head. Guys like you probably need each other's help to wipe your asses."

  Hare bared his teeth and took a step toward me, but Burke put a hand on his partner's shoulder to restrain him.

  "Pay him no mind. He's just trying to rattle us." Burke smiled at me. "Shows that he's desperate is all."

  I didn't reply, primarily because he was right.

  Burke ordered the monsters to shut the door, one of them did, and we started down the corridor, Burke and Hare leading the way, Devona and I coming next, with our guard-monsters bringing up the rear. The halls of the Foundry were quiet and empty, the soundproofed corridors cutting out the omnipresent power hum that permeated the air outside the facility. We walked on in silence until we encountered a man coming toward us. I recognized him as one of the scientists Baron employed, the wild haired, wild eyed Dr. Fronkensteen. Only now his eyes were blank and staring, his features slack, mouth hanging partway open. Around his head was a metal band with thin rods jutting out, and it didn't take a great leap of deductive reasoning on my part to guess the crown's purpose. I had no doubt the rest of the Foundry's scientists wore similar devices.

  "Looks like some of your boss's employees need a bit of technological coaxing to get with the new program," I said as the man passed us without the slightest sign that he was aware of our existence.

  "You know how it goes," Burke said. "A motivated employee is a happy employee."

  Both men laughed and continued leading us deeper into the Foundry. We soon passed the lab where Baron had reattached my head and still we continued onward, taking one turn after another, until Burke and Hare brought us to a stop outside a pair of doors with ornate woodwork and polished brass knobs.

  "Welcome to the nerve center of the Foundry," Burke said. He nodded to Hare and the other man gripped both knobs, turned them, and pushed the doors open. He then stepped aside, gave us a mocking bow, and gestured for us to enter. Wishing I had anything even remotely approximating a plan, I did so, Devona at my side. Burke, Hare, and the guard-monsters followed, closing the door behind us.

  The room was huge, easily three stories high, and a couple hundred feet across. The floor was tiled, but the walls and ceiling were flesh-tech, moist pink and shot through with swollen, pulsing veins, and I knew that Burke hadn't been joking. This was literally the nerve center – or perhaps more appropriately the heart – of Baron's factory. Flesh cables extended from the walls and stretched toward a high-backed fleshtech chair in the center of the room where they twined together to form a large cable bundle affixed to the chair back. Hanging down from the ceiling in front of the chair, dangling from a thick optic nerve, was a large Mind's Eye projector, the iris slate-gray, the white marred by threads of broken capillaries. The Mind's Eye was active, glowing with a sour yellow light, and before I could finish taking in the rest of the room, it snagged my attention. Images of monsters rioting in the streets of Nekropolis filled my head, and I heard Acantha's frantic voice.

  "– can't begin to describe how devastating the attacks have been so far! Initial reports put the number of dead in the dozens, and that number is sure to rise if this situation isn't resolved soon! So far, there's been no sign of the Darklords, and all attempts to contact them have failed. I've personally been in contact with First Adjudicator Quillion, who says he's been attempting to get in touch with Victor Baron to discover what's caused his creations to go mad, but so far Quillion has had no luck reaching him. Meanwhile, the fighting in the streets continues unabated. Sentinels and citizens alike are doing what they can to combat the rampaging monsters, but there's simply too many to–"

  Acantha broke off as a particularly hulking monster came stomping toward her. She screamed, turned to flee, and the transmission ended abruptly. I hoped her cyberserpents had simply stopped filming in the confusion, but I feared the worst.

  Now that the Mind's Eye was inactive, I could once more focus my attention on the chair in the center of the room. One person sat there, while a second stood by his side: Victor Baron and his assistant Henry. But something was wrong. Baron was the one standing, while Henry sat in the chair, still looking at the inactive Mind's Eye.

  "Now that's what I call entertainment," Henry said. Smaller flesh cables extended from the chair near the head and at the arm rests, their ends attached to Henry's temples and wrists. They detached and retracted into the chair as he rose, moving with his characteristically stiff, spastic motions. He turned to look at us, and I saw that he'd thrown back the hood of his robe to fully reveal his misshapen features. The robe was also now open down the front, displaying Henry's bare chest. Embedded into the flesh, running vertically from the base of his throat to his belly button, was Osseal. The mouthpiece of the bone flute was covered with a flap of skin, and every time Henry breathed, a series of soft notes emerged from the ivory instrument.

  Henry came toward us with his lurching walk, but Baron – dressed in his white lab coat and black pants – remained standing next to the chair. When Henry noticed, he paused and glanced back over his shoulder with an irritated expression.

  "Heel, boy," he snarled.

  Baron turned and walked over to join Henry, brow furrowed, jaw muscles tight, eyes blazing with anger, as if he were fighting an intense internal struggle. Once he reached Henry, the two of them continued walking toward us. Burke and Hare led Devona and me farther into the room, and we met Henry and Baron halfway.

  "Believe it or not, I'm glad to see you," Henry said. "It's nice to have someone I can properly gloat in front of."

  When he spoke, Osseal's song grew louder, and his words took on an almost musical lilt. The flute's tone was a sad, haunting one, and even though I was protected from its influence by the Loa necklace, this close I could feel a slight pull from the instrument, as if it were calling to me. I knew that Victor Baron heard its music clearly, and that meant he was under Henry's control.

  Henry looked at Burke and Hare. "You two can go now – and take the creatures with you." He gestured at our monstrous escorts.

  Burke frowned. "You sure?"

  Henry smiled. "Your concern for my safety is appreciated, but as formidable opponents as Mr. Richter and Ms. Kanti may be, I believe I can handle them. Besides, I have Victor to protect me." He patted Baron on the shoulder, and while Baron's mouth tightened in anger, he gave no other reaction to Henry's touch.

  Henry went on. "I want you two outside to direct the creatures at the gate. It won't be long before Quillion sends his Sentinels to pay us a visit. We'll need to be ready for them."

  "Righto," Burke said before turning to me. "Pleasure seeing you again," he said to me with a mocking grin.

  "Likewise," Hare said. "Call us the next time you need a trim. We'll be glad to take a little off the top."

  Laughing, the two men left the room, taking the guard-monsters with them.

  "So," Henry said once the others had departed, "are you surprised to discover I'm the ultimate villain in this little drama? Please tell me you didn't guess it was me. I'd be so disappointed if you had."

  "I can truthfully say we didn't see it coming," I said. "So Baron had absolutely nothing to do with Osseal's theft?"

  "Depends on how you look at it," Henry said. "In one sense he's responsible for everything that's happened." His jovial mood vanished then, and his tone grew cold. "Do you know how he came by his name? Victor Baron? He decided to take the name of his father, Baron Victor Frankenstein. Of course, he was determined to be his own man, too." He turned to Baron. "Didn't want to live his life in Daddy's shadow, did you?"

  Baron glared at Henry but otherwise didn't respond.

  Henry continued. "So instead of taking the Frankenstein surname, he indulged in a bit of juvenile wordplay and become Victor
Baron
. Pathetic, really, and more than a bit disrespectful, don't you think?"

  As I listened to Henry talk, a suspicion began to form in my mind. "When we first met, I thought you were Baron's assistant. But you're not, are you?"

  Devona looked at me, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

  "When Henry rose from the chair and I saw he'd surgically grafted Osseal to himself, my first thought was that he was simply a disgruntled employee who was tired of being number two and wanted to take over his boss's business for himself." I turned to Henry. "But it's more than that, isn't it? A lot more."

  Henry gave me a look so cold that, if he'd been Acantha, I'd have turned to stone on the spot.

  Devona's eyes widened in sudden realization.

  "You're Dr. Frankenstein!" she said.

  Henry inclined his head. "At your service."

  "If that's true, then why go by the name Henry?"

  "It's my middle name. And I wasn't about to call myself Victor anymore. Not after he took the name."

  I thought back to the interactions I'd observed between Baron and Henry. Henry had been more than a bit snarky toward Baron, but the latter had tolerantly accepted the other's behavior. At the time, I'd thought Baron had been simply too caught up in his work to care, but now I recognized his tolerance as that of an adult child good-naturedly putting up with the irritating behavior of an older relative.

  "Why the resentment toward Baron?" I asked. "He seemed to treat you well enough. More like a partner than an assistant."

  "That's what he wanted everyone to believe," Henry said. "But in truth he regards me as an inferior intellect, barely fit to wash out his test tubes."

  A sorrowful look came into Baron's eyes, but he remained standing still at Henry's side.

  "Is that what Baron thinks or what you think?" Devona asked gently, but Henry ignored her.

  "When we met I told you that Shelley's novel got some of our story right, though many of the specific details are different. Suffice it to say that I'd attempted to create a perfect man, only to realize I'd fallen far short of that too-lofty goal and instead created a monster. I attempted to rectify that mistake and destroy the beast I'd made, and he in turn tried to destroy me. In the end I died and my monster lived and I went into the darkness with the consolation of knowing I was at least free of the grotesque abomination I'd brought into the world. But do you know what he did? He refused to let me stay dead! He claimed he did it out of love, because he didn't want to lose the only family he had in the world. But I knew the truth. He did it out of spite – for vengeance's sake! He brought my body to my lab and using my notes and equipment, he went to work. The result? He succeeded in returning me to life, but trapped inside this twisted joke of a body. He apologized for the crudity of his work, saying said it was because this was his first attempt at the reanimatory arts. He promised to continue, experimenting and learning, until he'd obtained the knowledge and skill to fully restore me. What a laugh! As if he ever had any intention of doing so!"

  "Judging by how he looks, I'd say he succeeded in mastering his craft," I said. "Has he never offered to operate on you again?"