“That’s big,” said Van Brusen.
“Yes, it is,” said Charles. “Care for a demonstration?”
Van Brusen shrugged. “Then can we go eat?”
“I can guarantee that once I finish my demonstration, we shall have a very enjoyable meal indeed,” said Charles.
He walked over to the large glass bowl and pushed gently against it. A previously hidden door opened.
“If you would be so kind.”
“I don’t think so, Charles. I saw what you did to that bird,” said Van Brusen with a laugh. To both his and Alex’s surprise, Charles started to laugh as well.
“Van Brusen! I’m not going to kill you. Don’t be a fool. I said I modified it. It doesn’t suck out the air. How can it when I have made all these little airholes?” He indicated a few holes, the size of apples, perforating the glass.
“Well, I don’t know, it still looks fishy to me,” said Van Brusen.
“Only because it’s fishbowl-shaped. Trust me, you won’t die. And you definitely won’t regret it.” Again he gestured toward the door. “Please, it will take at most fifteen minutes.”
Van Brusen shrugged, and to Alex’s complete shock, strode into the glass bowl. Charles closed the door firmly behind him and walked around to the handle.
“Now, I was trying to explain to you exactly what this machine did. As I said, it doesn’t suck out air. I have modified it to suck out what I suppose could be called energy.”
“Energy?” asked Van Brusen. “What, like electricity?”
“Alas, no. It is more . . . spiritual than that, you could say. My original idea was to find an alternate fuel, more cost-efficient, you know—but I found something even more useful.” And he pressed a button. The handle began to turn automatically. “What I have managed to create is a device that can suck out . . . well, to be poetic, the soul.”
This made Van Brusen visibly uneasy. “The soul?”
“Yes, a very powerful form of energy, it is capable of fueling this whole train. And while that is all rather interesting, what is most interesting is the effect it has on people.” The handle turned faster and faster. “You see, if this energy is consumed by other humans, well, it’s like the fountain of youth. Eternal energy of spirit.”
“ ‘Consumed’ as in ‘eaten’?” For the first time the idea of food didn’t seem too appealing to Van Brusen.
“Or more easily drunk—yes,” and Charles nodded toward the corner. Alex looked over to the corner and saw a stack of boxes, one of which was open. Inside she could see bottles. “Never wondered what the bubbles were in champagne? Never wondered why it was such a popular drink?”
“You can’t be serious!” said Van Brusen.
“Oh fine, I’m joking. Most champagne is normal champagne, but our champagne, ours is the elixir of life! Isn’t that exciting?”
Van Brusen didn’t appear all that excited. In fact, he had stopped responding altogether. His skin had begun to turn a gray color, and his movements were slow and directionless.
“True, there are some kinks in the works. Selective memory loss being one of them. However, once I have perfected my machine, I will be able to mass-produce my champagne, sell it at ridiculously high prices, corner the market, and become extraordinarily filthy rich. The only problem is that it would seem that one person’s spirit can only make one bottle of the stuff. Which is not very cost-effective, as it would mean running out of people at a greater rate and losing profit.”
Van Brusen suddenly collapsed. Still conscious, he now lay on his side, quietly blinking. Charles walked over to the other side of the pump, where he picked up a smaller glass jar. There didn’t seem to be anything in it, but it vibrated as he held it in his hands.
“Which is where young Alex comes in.” He turned to look at her.
Hmm, thought Alex. Obviously he hadn’t forgotten about her, after all.
“I’ve been watching you since you came aboard, little Alex. You haven’t been drinking the champagne, have you?” he asked.
“Just one sip—once,” she whispered.
“And yet you’ve not tired at all, participating in our little party?”
“Yes, actually, I’m exhausted.”
Charles smiled. “Still you made it. What a spirit you must have!”
And then Alex understood.
“I never stop this train, but I did when I saw you and I knew I was right. Children are the answer. Children will help with my profit margin!”
Alex took a few steps back.
“Why are you explaining all this to me? I mean, why didn’t you just trick me like Van Brusen or force me into that . . . that thingy? Why show me?”
“I don’t know. I like hearing the sound of my own voice. And I also like scaring the bejeebus out of people. I have scared the bejeebus out of you, haven’t I?”
“Yes, yes, you have.”
“Good. And now, it’s time to test my hypothesis.” And he made to grab for her.
But Alex was getting quite good at running away from people. With Giggles holding onto her shoulder for dear life, she ducked away and managed to get to the other end of the carriage and wrench open the door. She stood between the two carriages and quickly pulled across a chain on the door she had just come through. She entered the next carriage, grabbed a chair, and put it against the door. She turned and gasped.
Stuart Nickleman was staring at her, nose to nose. He was as pale as Van Brusen, and at first she didn’t think he had seen her. But then he reached out to touch her face. Giggles made a soft, hissing sound.
“You’re so warm,” Stuart said without expression. There was a sound of muttering, and Alex looked to see the carriage was full of gray, expressionless people. She saw Pudding, and Freddy as well. And there were dozens of others, sitting on long benches that ran parallel down the length of the carriage. Some sat quietly staring ahead, while others seemed very interested in their shoelaces. But they all looked up when Stuart spoke. With empty eyes they stared at Alex and then, slowly, they all came up to her and reached out to touch her.
“So warm,” they muttered.
Alex found herself turning, throwing aside the chair, and passing through the door again, slamming it behind her and ending up yet again between carriages. Suddenly the other door moved as if someone was banging something heavy against it. Oh for Pete’s sake, she thought. Charles, the ever-so-suave mad scientist, on one side, the soulless mob of zombies on the other.
Alex needed to think, to approach the situation coolly. The door moved again, and Giggles let out a small growl. And Alex had an idea. She flung open the door that Charles was behind and threw Giggles at him.
In slow motion, this is what you would have seen. You would have seen Giggles flying through the air. You would have seen the confused expression on his face until he saw Charles’s head coming toward him. Then you would have seen his mind set to purpose and his claws ready and, with fierce aim, landing on Charles’s face.
In fast motion, you would have seen a blur and then Charles’s face obscured by a cat. Charles staggered back into the room violently, as Alex watched, momentarily hypnotized by the action in front of her. He thrashed about the room, knocking over boxes and breaking bottles until he found himself against the glass bowl.
Then Alex performed step two of her plan. She opened the other door and hid behind it. Slowly the bodies started to file out of the carriage and into the one where Charles was still contending with the cat. With much effort he pulled off Giggles and threw him across the room. His face was scratched and bloodied, and he stood there panting.
It was Freddy who made contact first. He touched Charles’s bleeding face and said, “Warm.” Charles was surprised to be surrounded suddenly by his old dining partners, and much more surprised at the strength with which they pressed against him. He moved sideways along the bowl, occasionally attempting to hit one of the bodies, which did not seem to respond to the blow. And then, without warning, he fell.
The door o
f the bowl opened, and he found himself inside. He struggled to get out, but Van Brusen got between him and his exit and caused the door to shut. Still trying to reach him, the others rammed their arms through the airholes, flailing with all their might.
“No, don’t!” Charles gasped. “It will become a real vacuum!”
But, of course, they didn’t stop.
“Stop! I can’t breathe!”
Alex stood in the doorway, looking over at the handle of the machine. It was still turning from the “demonstration” with Van Brusen. She edged quietly along the walls toward the on/off button for the machine. When she found herself at the other side of the bowl, she discovered the button completely obscured by the bodies still muttering “Warm” to themselves. She wasn’t sure how to approach it without being mobbed herself.
She could just stay hidden and do nothing, but she had never meant for anyone to be hurt. There must be a way she could distract the bodies without being mobbed herself. Come on, Alex, she thought angrily, think!
While she was desperately wracking her brain for a step three to her plan, she noticed that the muttering had stopped. She looked up and saw that the bodies were exploring the room aimlessly and quietly. Quickly Alex darted over to the button and turned the machine off. She opened the door, but Charles and Van Brusen lay motionless.
Suddenly there was a crashing sound. Alex turned. One of the bodies, a small round woman Alex had never seen before, had come across a bottle of champagne. She had picked it up and then smashed it open, its contents spilling everywhere. The woman touched the champagne with her fingers and smelled them. She put her fingers in her mouth. She stopped and looked around.
“Well, now,” she said and repeated the action. She looked around and spotted Alex.
“Help me, child, I may have an idea,” she said very coherently. “Which is impressive as I haven’t had one for a long time.” And she knelt on the ground and began to lick the champagne.
Alex stood in surprise as the woman began to regain some of her color. Her cheeks started to become rosy and her skin peach.
“Yes, I am certain this is a good idea. Quick, dear, let’s do the rest,” she said as she stood up with a big grin on her face.
Both Alex and the woman picked up bottles, popped the corks, and showered the bodies with champagne. As the drops fell in their mouths, the others began to understand and opened bottles of their own and drank. Soon the bodies became people again, chatting excitedly with each other, some even hugging. Pudding was giggling hysterically.
Alex took a bottle and went over to the machine. She first tried Van Brusen, pouring some liquid down his throat. Then Charles. She waited. Nothing happened. She tried again, but still nothing happened.
“Dear?” said the woman. Alex looked up at her round face. “I don’t think that will help them,” she said quietly.
Alex took a step back. She felt the woman’s warm hand on her shoulder, and she suddenly started to cry.
“Oh no, oh no!” said the woman, hugging Alex to her. “Don’t be sad! Van Brusen was a fool, but a decent person, and it is sad he is gone, of course. But Charles, well, he was a nasty piece of work, now wasn’t he?”
“It’s not that,” said Alex into the woman’s shoulder.
She didn’t know what to say. Could she explain about her uncle? And about how selfish she felt that, in the presence of two other people who had lost their lives, her main thought was for him? Missing him hurt so much, and it was very nice to be hugged by someone. When at last she decided the hugging was enough, she said, “It’s nothing. Really.”
It was a very bizarre reunion in the dining car because, of course, the guests who had not been turned into zombies had forgotten about the existence of the ones who had. It was as if a haze was lifted as the old guests all took their own chairs again, and slowly Angel and the others started to recognize them. It was confusing and strange, and so they all did what all normal people do when something extraordinary like that happens. Pretended it hadn’t.
And then halfway through dessert Alex felt a strange sensation. It was sort of an antifeeling. Like something that had been there wasn’t anymore. It took her a few minutes to realize that what was missing was the movement of the train. When she understood what had happened she quickly rose from her seat. This was her chance finally. She didn’t care if things had returned to relative normality, she needed to get off this train. Alex made her way to her compartment, slipped inside, and found that she had company.
“Um, hey there, Giggles,” she said. He acknowledged her existence with a nod and a flick of his tail. Working around him, Alex packed up her knapsack, while he watched her suspiciously. Just as she finished, he jumped into her bag.
“No, Giggles, you’re far too heavy.” But Giggles wouldn’t budge. “All right, fine. But if we’re going to leave quickly, you are not allowed to attack anyone.”
He scoffed, and closed his eyes.
Alex returned to the dining room and said her farewells. Then Angel and Jimmy C escorted her to the door.
Angel peered out into the darkness. “I don’t know how I feel about all this,” she said, smiling nervously. “The train stopping, you leaving. I don’t think I like change very much.”
“I don’t think anyone really likes change that much,” reassured Alex. “But it happens, and we just have to make do. Don’t worry, you’ll all be fine.”
Angel nodded, though she didn’t seem entirely convinced.
“Take care of yourself, beautiful,” said Jimmy C.
Alex hugged them both tightly. “Well,” she said, grabbing Mr. Underwood’s bicycle and hoisting her bag over her shoulder. She looked at the two of them smiling pleasantly at her. “Goodbye.”
And she stepped down out of the train into the dark.
Yes, just like that.
THE NINETEENTH CHAPTER
In which Alex stumbles upon
The Emperor and the Necklace.
Alex stood for a moment taking stock of her surroundings. She was on the edge of the forest, and she could see in the distance behind her the lights of her town. She had no idea how long she had been on that train, but it seemed obvious she hadn’t gotten very far. What a waste of time! From now on she was going to travel by her own means, rely on no one but herself. First, though, she needed to find a place to sleep for the night.
She decided to follow the train tracks. She felt this was probably a good plan, as they would most likely at some point take her to Port Cullis, and the light of the train would guide her way.
After an hour or so, it seemed quite obvious that she wouldn’t be getting out of the woods anytime soon. The light from the train had faded to darkness, and she was so tired that she could barely lift her legs. She decided it was time to settle down for the night. Alex stepped off the track and made herself as comfortable as she could at the base of a large tree.
She opened up her knapsack and had a look inside. Giggles was curled up snug on top of her sweater. “Sorry ’bout this,” she said and pulled the sweater out from underneath him. He looked up at her. “Hey, I’m going to sleep now, so . . . well, just so you know.” Giggles nodded and jumped out of the bag.
“What are you doing?” asked Alex, as she laid out her sweater to lie on. But he simply looked at her, and she gave a little shrug. Cats, she thought.
He sat and watched as she got comfortable. Once she had found a position that wasn’t too hard on the back, he sat by her and faced out toward the night.
“I don’t think there is anything to watch out for,” said Alex with a yawn. “And we both could use some sleep after all that excitement.”
Giggles gave her a look as if to say, “That’s what you think. Now go to sleep already, I know what I’m doing.” And he faced out again.
Alex thought this was wholly unnecessary, but it was a nice gesture all the same, and soon she was asleep.
The sleep was delightful. It was a truly pleasant thing, not the sort of sleep imposed on yo
u when you are in the middle of a good book, or a TV show, or a game and you are suddenly told rather unceremoniously, “Time for bed!” That sort of resentful sleep is not that pleasant, despite the fact that when morning comes all you want to do is stay under the covers. No, I mean the sort of sleep that comes when you finish a good book, or TV show, or game, stand up and, with a stretch and yawn, say, “Well, I do believe it’s time for bed!” And you skip upstairs of your own free will and curl up under the covers. This was the sort of sleep Alex had that night and would have continued to have had late into the afternoon had some very strange noises not woken her up.
She sat up and stretched and looked for Giggles. Who was exactly as she had left him, and so she didn’t need to look for him that hard.
“Did you hear that, Giggles?”
Giggles indicated in his catlike way that he had heard and that it did not please him one bit.
“Oh, you’re suspicious of everything. Honestly, Giggles, lighten up.” Alex stood and took stock of her surroundings.
You know the old saying “can’t see the forest for the trees?” Well, that’s sort of what it was like looking about. She was in a forest. And there were lots of trees. And other than the train tracks, which wound their way out of sight, there was no other sign of humans. Oh, except the sudden loud yelling that came from somewhere deeper within the brush. A loud yelling of a word that it would just not do to repeat in this particular kind of novel. But it was very shocking to hear, I don’t mind telling you.
“Goodness,” said Alex. Giggles agreed, and they decided to investigate.
They found the going tricky (goings are often tricky, especially with bicycles), having to step over things and under things and around things and through things, and the sun being rather hot and all. But they kept following the offensive word, which punctuated the silence of the forest every few minutes, until finally, drawing aside a giant branch with giant leaves on it, they discovered its source.
Alex and the Ironic Gentleman Page 10
