by Stone, J.
Next, he went down the hall to Germ’s quarters, further filling up the suitcase with clothes he had seen the rat frequently wear. Sitting on a nightstand near the bed laid a leather bound book. Rowland recognized it as Germ’s journal and collected it as well. Stopping to think what his friend couldn’t live without, Rowland also grabbed a dustpan and stunted broom assuming those were his favorite items, as he was so frequently using them, and then shoved them into the heavy metal box.
Rowland dragged the case down the stairs, one loud clunk at a time. When he arrived at the bottom step, he glanced up to see Tern staring at him, holding a hammer, spanner, a toolbox, and various undergarments.
“Good enough, I suppose,” he said mostly to himself. “Put them in the case, Tern.”
“Affirmative,” replied the automaton, opening the case and placing the procured items inside.
“Once Germ gets back with her weapons, we will--oh!” the professor stopped, “Gerald!”
He ran into the downstairs lab to find that Gerald, the carnivorous potato wasn’t in fact deceased, but Ms. Petunia’s cat from across the street most certainly was. Gerald had managed to wrap his tentacle-like sprouts around the cat’s corpse, and it gnawed at the cat’s organs spewed out on the lab floor.
“Gerald!” he announced happily.
The spud’s eyes momentarily glanced up at the beaming professor, before it continued to eat away at the cat’s remains.
“We will have to find something to carry you in, Gerald.” Rowland looked around his lab before finding a large, enclosed jar with the remains of a human brain inside. Opening the container, he dislodged the organ and poured out the viscous, green liquid inside. Running over to the nearby sink, he ran water into the jar, filling it up about half way.
“Okay, Gerald. I have prepared a lovely little home for you. Be a nice tuber and get inside.” The professor laid the jar down on the ground near the spud, and he picked Gerald up with his gauntleted hand. When he lifted the potato, the cat fell apart in two distinct pieces and Gerald growled a bit, having lost his meal.
The potato tried to wrap its tendrils around the professor’s gauntlet, but Rowland quickly tossed it into the jar, closing the lid on top of it. Gerald continued to splash around inside his jar while the professor tightened the container.
At the front door an out of breath Germ came bursting in, Erynn’s rifle slung around his back and her pistol sticking awkwardly out of his pocket. He also carried a small bag of her tools and supplies, which he gave to an idle Tern, who then placed it inside the larger case.
Rowland came into the foyer carrying Gerald. “Look Germ, Gerald survived!”
Still attempting to catch his breath, Germ responded, “That’s... wonder... ful... sir.”
Rowland continued, “Oh, and do not worry I made sure to pack your things. I think you will be quite pleased.”
“Oh, thank... you, sir,” the rat said. “That’s... quite kind of you.”
“I think we are ready to go now,” the professor stated. “Tern, take the suitcase and Gerald here and put them down the sewer. We will pick them back up after we get Ryn.” He grabbed the pistol out of Germ’s pocket and stated, “We have two corpsmen to hunt down.”
With ease, Tern, pulled the cover off a nearby manhole and dropped the metal box down inside it. Then he also dropped Gerald, the carnivorous potato, onto the top of the suitcase.
Walking by the sewer hole, Rowland added, “You watch our things, Gerald. We will be back soon.”
The potato growled from inside its new glass home, and Tern replaced the manhole cover.
“Where are we going to find corps members at this hour?” Germ asked the others, locking up the house from the outside.
“Processing... Highest Probability--” Tern began.
“The slums,” the professor finished.
“Affirmative,” he concurred.
The trio headed toward the slums, and it took them less than half an hour to come upon a pair of corpsmen. Rowland stopped at a thin alleyway and spotted the two men accosting a young woman who appeared to be making her way home from work.
“No, please, don’t hurt me,” begged the woman.
“You’ve got it all wrong, dear,” one of the corpsmen said to the woman. “We’re not going to hurt you... until we’re done with you.”
The second man grabbed the woman by the arms and held her in place as the second began to undo his belt buckle.
“At least they’ll deserve it, sir,” Germ said to Rowland.
“Quite right,” he replied. “Tern, can you take these by yourself?”
“Affirmative,” Tern stated. He then calmly walked down the alleyway toward the assaulting corpsmen, though they quickly spotted him.
“Hey! You!” yelled the first corpsman. “Official business. Get out of here before we take you into custody.”
Tern then spoke, “Abandon your clothes and equipment or you will be deleted.”
“Help me!” screamed the woman.
“Shut up, you.” The corpsman turned back to the woman, slapping her.
Before the man could turn back to face the automaton, Tern had begun sprinting at a rapid pace, steam deluging from his back. He jumped toward the nearby wall, using it as leverage to jump again toward the corpsmen. His frame spun around, and he extended his left arm, the blade suddenly and violently jutting outward.
Tern landed on the ground, his blade sliding easily between the exact point where the corpsman’s helmet ended and his body armor began. The tubes leading back to his respirator were severed from the helmet and popped outward spewing gas. His head flipped up and landed with a loud clatter as the helmet smashed against the wet cement, soon followed by his collapsing body.
The other corpsman pushed the woman aside, knocking her to the ground, but Tern quickly pushed his blade forward into the chest of the second man. The corpsman froze, making a spurting sound from within his helmet. When Tern retracted his blade, blood spewed forth from the wound. The man held his hands over the wound, as he fell to the ground - dead before he landed.
“Objective completed,” Tern noted.
The woman, horrified by what she had seen, stared frantically at the automaton from the ground, while Tern set to dislodging the corpses from the uniforms. Rowland and Germ joined the automaton, with Rowland helping Tern with the task, while Germ attempted to comfort the assaulted woman.
“There, there, miss,” he said. “Everything’s fine now.”
Stammering she responded, “Rrr-right. Fff-fine.” She sat staring off into the distance a moment. “I-III... ssss-should be ggg-going now.”
“That seems a wise plan, miss,” Germ concluded and reached out his furry paw to help her stand. He saw her on her way and turned to find Tern already inside one of the suits and stowing Erynn’s pistol in his belt.
Rowland motioned to Germ to get inside the other suit. “This one had a little less blood in it,” Rowland assured him. “Though I think the man who wore it may have had a rash of some sort.” The professor scratched his arm as he talked.
Germ handed the professor the rifle to hold while he reluctantly squeezed his rodent form inside the clearly uncomfortable corpsman outfit, with Rowland trying not to laugh at the awkward scene. Tern, meanwhile, took the two corpses and carried them to a nearby pile of plague victims, dumping their bodies with all the others.
With the first step of the plan completed, the group began the walk to the Center for Empirical Research. Both Germ and the professor were silent on the way there, knowing they could easily be walking to their deaths.
They soon arrived at the footsteps leading up to the center and Tern spoke, “Processing... I will not be able to speak convincingly. Mr. Germ will have to do the talking... Processing... Professor Rowland must play a convincing prisoner... I will play a strong silent type.”
“Play-acting,” Rowland said. “How fun!”
“I fear you may be taking this a bit lightly, sir,” Germ replied
.
“Nonsense,” the professor said. “If you are going to break into a highly militarized scientific research prison led by religious zealots with the high chance of death, dismemberment, or incarceration, surely you should enjoy yourself.”
“Clearly there are different schools of thought on that, sir.”
Reaching the top of the stairs, they were met with two guards. One of them saw the group approaching and asked, “Another lottery winner skipping out on their duty?”
“That’s correct, sir,” Germ responded.
“Sir?” he laughed. “Take the filth on inside.”
After making their way inside, Rowland turned and looked back. “Well that was easy, but you might drop the ‘sirs’ in here Germ.”
“Ah, yes, sir... er. Yes,” Germ said clearly uncomfortable with such an action.
“Where to from here, Tern?” Rowland quietly asked.
The automaton, without speaking, gestured to a bright white hallway with red stripes along the wall and they made their way to it. Considering the lateness of their incursion, it was no surprise that the hall was empty except for a janitor some ways down and occasional guards posted at a few of the doors. Most of the lights were off and very little activity seemed to be occurring in the rooms that did have lights still on.
Eventually they arrived at a solid black door with a contagious symbol painted in red. It was riveted with bolts along its entire length and there was a mechanical contraption hanging on the wall to its side. Tern held up his left arm to the device, sliding a series of wires out under his sleeve and into the gears, tubing, and other assorted metal pieces.
“I will hack their systems, now,” Tern said.
“Madam Clover is in there?” Germ asked. “This door seems quite ominous.”
“Government blueprints indicate lottery experiments would be contained here,” confirmed Tern, just as the door unlatched and opened.
The room was completely covered in white tiles with black grout. The walls were lined with part glass, part metal cages extending outward, each with a single person inside. Four guards were posted in a central, cylindrical station, and each seemed surprised at the intrusion.
“Another lottery?” the guard seemingly in charge asked of them. “Thought we were done for the day.”
“Uh... this one was a vocal dissenter,” responded Germ. “The higher-ups thought to make an example of him.”
“This is barbaric!” interjected Rowland as they dragged him inside the room. “You should be ashamed.”
“Shame is for god to decide, scum,” the guard replied, stepping forward from the post. “That’s quite the glove he has. He’s not going to need it anymore.” The guard approached Rowland and began attempting to remove the professor’s gauntlet.
Grinning, Rowland whispered to the guard, “The... glove, as you call it, is not like most. It is not intended for protection.” The guard cut his eyes up at the professor as an electric current passed through the glove, blasting him up and across the room, flying past the command station. “Get the others!” he shouted.
Tern pulled Erynn’s pistol from his belt, and quickly shot two of the guards, but the third shot jammed the gun. Germ had managed to pull the rifle from behind his back, but his hand shook and he found himself simply unable to pull the trigger.
Seeing Germ’s hesitation, Rowland aimed his gauntlet at the last guard standing and, with his other hand toggled to a different setting on his spectacles, gears churning to flip around the lenses. Finding the right range, the professor shot another bolt of current through the gauntlet, which extended out past his arm and into the chest of the guard.
The guard’s hand, however, had just then grabbed hold of a lever and as the force pushed him backward, so too did the lever move back. A loud, blasting sound emitted from all around them, alerting everyone in the building to their presence.
“Tern!” yelled the professor, “try to find the lever that releases the cages. I am going to find Ryn.”
Germ sat down on a nearby bench staring down at the weapon in his still-shaking hands, while the others set to action.
Rowland hobbled down the long row of cages, peering side to side as he went. Nearing the end he began to worry she wasn’t being kept here. “Ryn!” he yelled out.
“Max?” a feeble voice asked from a cage not far ahead.
“Little Ryn!” he cried out. “You look older...”
“You always say the sweetest things,” she replied standing up from a bench and holding her side in pain. “I told you not to come. Where’s Tern? Did my program work?”
“Oh, yes. He is attempting to open the cages,” the professor informed her pointing a finger down the hallway, still quite giddy with his success.
“Well if it worked, I’d already have been freed!” she yelled down the hallway at Tern just as all the doors popped open. “Ah, that’s my boy.”
“I would hug you,” the professor began, “but you know.”
“Physical contact,” she replied knowingly, “I get it.”
“You could hug Germ, if you like,” he suggested.
Behind Rowland came a sickly whisper, “Aren’t you going to let me out too, little Ryn? We could have so much fun together.” Opposite of Erynn’s cell was a prisoner still trapped inside her cage - the door appeared to have jammed, but the gears were still spinning and trying to open. The woman was wearing a dirty white dress and her hair was a matted black mass of tangles and grease.
“Don’t get near her,” Erynn warned. “She’s completely nuts.”
“I just want to see what’s inside you,” the woman went on, cocking her head to the side. “Is that so wrong? You’re special. I can tell. It says so in my head.” A wide, unsettling smile teased across her face.
“Let’s just go, Max,” Erynn pleaded.
Rowland nodded, and they left her cell. The other prisoners who were able to had already made a mad dash to the room’s exit. Rowland walked her to the center station where Tern waited patiently for them, having removed his disguise.
The trapped woman banged on the glass of her prison, “See... you... later...” she said, licking her lips.
“Where to next, Tern?” Rowland asked, hoping to distance himself and Erynn from the psychotic prisoner.
“Processing... there is a sewage dump not far from this location,” he responded.
The three met up with Germ at the entrance, still holding the gun and still wearing the corpsman uniform.
“Looking sharp, Germy,” Erynn commented.
“Oh, I guess I forgot, Madam Clover,” he said, looking up at them. Holding out the weapon to her, Germ added, “Here, ma’am. Your rifle.”
“That’s okay,” she replied. “You hold onto it for now. I’m in no shape.”
The sirens were still blaring and by the time the group had made their way to the exit, all the prisoners were long since gone and the guards nowhere in sight. Tern leading the way, they followed the hallway to a double-door room labeled, ‘Waste Disposal.’
Tern swung open the doors to reveal a large open grate in the middle of the floor. Below, slow-running water from the sewage system could be seen flowing through the dark tunnel.
“Aside from the smell, this might be a fun ride,” Rowland told Erynn.
“We’re never going on vacation together, Max,” she said.
Chapter 3. Germ the Sewer Rat
Germ awoke to find a rotating cog sticking into his back as he lay in the near-absolute darkness of the sewers running underneath Cultwick City. The borrowed disguise of the deceased corpsman had become soaked with the various liquids flowing through the damp sewers.
Someone must have pulled him out of the coursing stream after that last not insubstantial drop in the tunnel, he thought. He could hear the rushing waters of the sewage flowing all around him, echoing and dripping in the shadows.
“Is Germ in functioning condition?” asked a robotic voice in the dark.
“Yes, Tern. I’m doin
g just fine,” Germ said, groaning and beginning to move off the automaton. “Are Madam Clover and Master Rowland all right?”
“We’re here, Germy,” he heard Erynn say somewhere nearby. “Just a little worse for wear... and way worse of a smell.”
“I was wrong about that being fun aside from the smell,” the professor added. “The taste was awful too. It got into my respirator!”
“I don’t suppose Tern has some sort of light, does he Madam Clover?” Germ asked of the darkness.
Without waiting for a response from Erynn, Tern began to produce sounds of wheels spinning, gears grinding, and power being generated. Two weak flickering beams radiated from his eye lenses shedding light on their dank surroundings. With enough light to see, the rodent began to remove the uniform - the water dripping from his fur, as he hopped on one foot to free the other.
“Perhaps we should have asked this sooner, but did those -- if you’ll excuse my language -- cretins... inject you with anything yet, ma’am?” asked Germ.
“Not really,” she responded. “They gave me something called a ‘Primer,’ but I don’t know what it was, and they didn’t seem to expect any immediate reaction.”
“Master Rowland?” asked Germ, throwing the uniform into the waters at their side and shaking off the water from his fur like a wet dog. He then took this opportunity to wipe his monocle somewhat clean on his shirt.
“Hmm.” he started. “I will have to run some tests, but I suspect it is not anything to be worried about. It was likely a bonding agent for future injections. I have used something similar in my experimentations.”
“Sir...” Germ said.
“Not that I would ever test on unwilling people like those sadists, of course,” he added.
Erynn asked, “Why did you come for me? Tern should have been able to handle it on his own. You shouldn’t have put yourselves at risk.”
“If you’ll pardon, ma’am,” started Germ, “Tern wouldn’t have been able to free you on his own if his calculations were anything to go by.”
“Affirmative,” confirmed Tern. “There was only a 12.782% probability of success without additional resources. This probability was increased to 46.583% when appending Professor Rowland and Germ to my available resources list.”
