by Stone, J.
Seated at the Weighted Die table were five players. To the left of Rowland was the bank manager - Benedict Boothe. Next to him sat a wealthy and attractive woman. Vincent was beside her as the loan shark. Finally, sitting to the right of the professor was a dark, curly-haired gentlemen with small framed spectacles.
The man with spectacles was the first better this round. “Three twos,” he said and started the bidding.
Rowland peered under his cup to look at his dice once more, and then said, “Three threes.”
Benedict eyed the professor carefully before upping the bet to, “Four threes.”
The woman increased the bet further, “Four fours.”
Rowland took this moment to move his mug of beer over to his left hand side and turning the handle of the cup to a specific point, which was a signal to Vincent to raise the stakes up to sixes.
Vincent complied, “Five sixes.”
The man with spectacles took a moment and begrudgingly continued, “Six sixes.”
The professor then quickly upped it again, “Seven sixes.”
Benedict decided that it had gone too far, “I challenge, sir!” He revealed his hand, which consisted of three threes and two twos.
The woman revealed hers next, showing one six, two fours, one three and one two. Vincent showed one five, two threes, and two twos. The man with the spectacles showed one six, two fives, and two threes.
Rowland finally revealed his three sixes and two ones, making the total number of sixes at exactly seven when wild ones were added to the count. As he pulled the cup off his dice, the professor commented to the bank worker, “Better luck next time.”
The professor pulled in his winnings, and Benedict eyed the coins despondently. They all rolled their next hands under the cups and continued with the next round.
“Three twos,” the professor began.
“Four twos,” the bank manager continued.
“Five fours,” the woman said tilting her head to the side a small amount. The man with spectacles raised one eyebrow and the bank manager scratched his chin. Rowland took a drink and eyed Vincent.
“Challenge,” the bounty hunter simply said and revealed a hand without any fours or ones.
Around the table, more hands were similarly shown, with only a total of three fours having been rolled. Vincent pulled in his winnings and prepared to continue, but Rowland stood up from his chair.
“You will have to excuse me for a round,” he said.
The bounty hunter gave the professor a strange look, but Rowland didn’t stick around for him to say anything. From inside his gauntlet a cold pain had crept up his hand and into his arm. He stepped just outside the casino, where he began pilfering through his pocket. He pulled out a syringe of biojunk that he had concocted and injected it straight into his arm. The cold sensation dissipated quickly, replaced with a spreading fuzziness throughout his whole body.
Rowland returned to the table and waited for the next hand to continue. The woman had won the round he missed, and they all prepared to roll the next one.
Benedict started this round, “Two twos.”
The woman added, “Four fours.”
“Four fives,” Vincent said next.
The man with spectacles said, “Six fives.”
“Hmm,” the professor began studying the expressions on his opponents’ faces. “I say that’s exactly right.”
The group showed their dice. Rowland revealed zero fives, the bank manager one, the woman two, Vincent had zero, and the man with spectacles showing two more. Rowland again pulled in his winnings.
“Bah,” Benedict said aloud. “That seems to be it for me. You appear to have stolen all my funds for the evening.”
He began to stand up when Vincent stopped him and said, “Hold on now, buddy. I got a proposition for you.”
“Oh?” Benedict asked remaining seated. “And what is that?”
“I’ll spot you enough coins to continue playing,” he began. “But anything you make from here on is half mine.”
“That seems pretty steep, mister.”
“I’m giving you a chance to make your money back, that’s all,” Vincent said smiling.
“Yeah and what if I lose?” Benedict asked.
“Well,” the bounty hunter said, eyeing him piercingly, “then you’ll owe me. Obviously.”
“Hmm,” the bank manager pondered to himself for a moment. Rowland saw him eye the coins on the table greedily before finally answering. “Alright, mister. You’ve got yourself an arrangement.”
The game continued as before with the man with spectacles winning the next hand, followed by the woman. Both losses causing Benedict to squirm as the dice were revealed. Two more hands, one victory to Vincent and another to the woman. Rowland eyed Benedict, as he once again had run out of coins, and he looked nervously up at Vincent.
“I’ll spot you one more time,” the bounty hunter said generously.
The next hand went to Rowland, followed by Vincent in the next round. The professor was then able to win two in a row, and Benedict slammed his fist against the table, shaking the coins and dice.
“I really have to stop now,” he exclaimed.
“Perhaps you are right,” Rowland told him. “This clearly is not your game. Perhaps you would like to go outside and play hopscotch with the schoolgirls instead.”
“Fine. One more,” he held up a finger to Vincent asking for more funding.
Vincent nodded graciously and threw him some more coins. The next several hands were particularly good for Rowland. He managed to win all four, each time the bank manager calling him out with a challenge and each time being wrong.
Rowland stood after making these winnings and told the others, “I think that is enough for me. It was an extreme pleasure.” He nodded to them all and headed out of the casino. As he left, he saw Vincent smile viciously to the bank manager, causing Benedict to take a large gulp.
The professor waited outside in an alleyway, until Vincent came outside with the bank manager in tow.
“I promise you, mister, I’ll find a way to pay you back,” Benedict said.
Vincent pointed over to the alleyway where the professor waited. “Maybe you can pay me back right now, partner,” the bounty hunter said.
Rowland moved further into the alley and the bank manager reluctantly walked over to where the professor had been. Surrounded on both sides by the men, Benedict began to noticeably shake.
“How do you mean I can pay you back?” he asked.
“You are the manager of Ash Cloud’s Bank of Cultwick, Benedict Boothe, correct?” Rowland questioned him.
“Uh... yeah,” the man answered warily.
“Well, Mr. Boothe,” Rowland declared. “We are interested in knowing everything about that bank.”
“I can’t tell you anything,” Benedict stated. “Cultwick owns the bank. If anything were to happen to it, who knows what they would do to me.”
“They’re really not your biggest concern right now, friend,” Vincent added.
Rowland took off his spectacles and carefully cleaned each of the many lenses with his shirttail, letting the man anticipate what would come next. The professor continued, “If you do not want my associate to begin hurting you in what I can only assume would be a myriad of unpleasant ways, you will change your mind and decide it best to acquiesce whatever requests we make of you. Tell us about the vault security.”
“You don’t understand. They’ll kill me just for talking to you!” the man warned them.
The professor nodded to Vincent, and the bounty hunter pulled out a long serrated knife from his belt. He held it where Benedict could clearly see it and allowed the moonlight to gleam off the sharp metal.
“I assure you. You do not want my acquaintance to give you more reason to assist us, good sir,” the professor stated. “Now, if you just tell us what we need to know, you will be free to go. The vault.”
The bank manager took one more look at the blade, perspiri
ng quite heavily, and began to speak, “The vault, right. The vault is behind two locked doors. Very technically and mechanically advanced, but they also have a biometric scanner. It will only open to the registered bank employees.”
“What about the first door?” the professor asked. “Tell us about that.”
“Right, it opens up to the safe deposit boxes,” he explained. “If you have access to a box, you can get an employee to open it for you.”
“The second door?” Rowland inquired.
Still giving occasional glances to the sharp knife Benedict continued, “That’s where you need an employee’s genes. But it also requires a six-digit pin number that changes every three hours.”
The professor pulled out a small glass tube and a needle. He pricked the man’s finger, letting it bleed and dripped it into the vial.
“How do you know what this number is?” Rowland asked.
The bank manager slowly slid a hand into his pocket and carefully pulled out a small mechanical contraption. It looked similar to a flip clock, but in miniaturized form. It showed six numbers and ticked as Benedict handed it to the professor.
“This,” he explained.
“It will give us the code?” Rowland asked.
“Yes... the numbers change every few hours.”
“What other kinds of security does your system have?” Vincent asked. “Some sort of red button that your cashiers press when someone with masks comes charging in?”
“Yes,” Benedict answered. “If someone presses a button under the counter, it will alert local authorities. Also, it will close and seal both vault doors.”
“You have any armed men stationed in or around the bank?” asked Vincent.
“There are two uniformed men inside the bank,” the manager said.
“We will also need three safe deposit box numbers,” Rowland explained.
“It’s not like I have them all memorized,” Benedict answered frantically.
“But a man like you surely keeps a ledger of this information at home, yes?” Rowland asked.
Benedict slit his eyes over to the professor and then quickly looked away again.
“That is a yes, then.” Turning his attention to Vincent the professor continued, “Let us take Mr. Boothe here home, shall we?”
Despite the darkness of the evening, the town of Ash Cloud was still brightly lit with wires that stretched from building to building with illuminated bulbs. Of all the towns they had visited thus far in the west, Rowland noted that Ash Cloud was by far the most advanced and progressive. The other cities were largely ramshackle buildings raised near important resources, but Ash Cloud seemed to be an earnest attempt at building a civilized town. It was nowhere near the marvel of Cultwick City, but in time, he thought, it could rival it.
The three slowly made their way through the dark streets. Rowland lead the way, with Benedict behind him, and Vincent in the back, keeping an eye on the bank manager. They soon arrived at the man’s home, where he was allowed to dig through his pockets to get the keys to the house. Opening the creaking door, revealed a home completely shrouded in darkness.
“Where?” Vincent asked prodding him in the back.
“My office... this way,” the man said, as he pointed to an adjoining room.
Rowland lit a candle in the hallway to give them some light, as Vincent and Benedict walked to the nearby room. The bank manager began pilfering through a desk drawer with Vincent eyeing him warily.
“You’d better be very careful about what you pull out of there, buddy,” the bounty hunter told him.
Benedict eyed the bounty hunter, still brandishing the blade, before pulling out a leather-bound ledger. He placed it on the table and then backed away from it. Rowland walked over and began flipping through the contents of the ledger trying to find the names they needed.
The first he found was Markus Morrissey, the owner of the munitions factory in town. Box 103. Next, he found the postmaster, Hollis Porter, who owned box 672. Finally Dr. Garland Webber‘s name was listed with box 894.
“Well, I think that gives us everything that we need, Mr. Boothe,” the professor explained.
“Doc,” Vincent began. “Why don’t you go on back to the others and fill ‘em in. Me and the bank manager here still have some things to discuss.”
“Wait!” Benedict wailed. “Don’t leave me with him! You know what he’ll do to me! Please!”
Rowland placed the code device into his pocket and then casually walked away, but before he exited the home, he turned and said to the man, “Thank you for your cooperation. It was most helpful.”
Chapter 13. Alice the Ardent
Alice found herself recounting the story of how Erynn had escaped custody and caused such discord in Cultwick City. She was in a large, poorly lit, circular room on the twentieth floor of the capital building, the Sovereign Tower. In front of her were five individuals seated at a round table whose faces were partially concealed under the shadow produced by the hoods they each wore. The Cultwick Council answered only to the empress herself, Mary Elizabeth Arkmast IV.
Their leader, Councilor Desmond Crowley, was known to be a particularly vicious and religious man. For years, Crowley carefully straddled the three pillars of Cultwick – religion, politics, and science. He even worked out of the Center for Empirical Research for several years before joining the council. He then became the council’s leader after the previous two council members died under suspicious circumstances.
The other four members of the council were Grace Murphy, Martin Lynch, Sophia Rhinehart, and Spencer Price. Rhinehart had been brought on board the council at Crowley’s behest. The appointment had surprised many, as she wasn’t a prominent member of the church as Crowley was. Instead, she was a war hero, earning much fame for her efforts overseas, conquering the nation of Ankalara. The others had, in their time on the council, induced less notoriety, but no less respect and fear from the citizens of Cultwick City.
“Erynn Clover escaped from the containment unit in the Center for Empirical Research after being selected by the lottery,” Alice began. “She was brought in by two members of the Cultwick Corps, and by their account she didn’t resist.
“At approximately fifteen till midnight, two corpsmen were killed in the slums district. Their bodies were found dumped into a pile of plague victims, naked. One of their heads had been decapitated and left with the body. The other had a wound to his chest. Both injuries appear to have been inflicted by the same weapon - a chrome blade.”
One of the council members, Councilor Murphy, leaned forward and asked, “Do you know yet who the attacker was?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Alice responded. “I believe that the assailant was the heretic’s automaton, whom she calls Tern. The construct, aided by Professor Maxwell Rowland and his overgrown lab rat, Germ, proceeded to murder and take these upstanding citizen’s clothes.
“They next infiltrated the C.E.R. The automaton and the rat disguised themselves as corpsmen, and the professor posed as their prisoner. They made their way into the containment area and proceeded to attack the guards posted there.”
“Were there any survivors?” Councilor Lynch asked.
Alice nodded and continued, “Yes, but only one guard survived the encounter. He identified the assailants as the Professor, the rat, and the automaton. Professor Rowland and his accomplices proceeded to undo the locks to not just Erynn Clover’s cell, but to all of the cells in the room. There was only one subject that didn’t attempt to escape, Fiona Newton, who I will come back to in a moment.
“The heretic and her accomplices then used a sewage drain to escape the center. A search of both their home as well as the professor’s place of employment didn’t lead to many clues to their location.”
The council leader, Crowley, asked, “Were you able to discern who these people were on a base level, Operative Page?”
“I believe so,” she answered. “The woman, Erynn Clover worked as a freelance chromesmith, operating out
of Professor Rowland’s university laboratory. She lost her parents to the Sweeper Bot Plague when she was very young. Not long after her brother was selected by the lottery.”
Councilor Crowley nodded, stating, “Yes, I remember the boy. He was one of my specimens during my time at the C.E.R.”
“The professor then took her in,” Alice continued. “He allowed her to work on mechanical contraptions, despite his participation in gene transcription. Neither one of them, however have ever showed any true dissent towards the empire.
“It is possible that the heretic harbored some sort of resentment toward the government for being unable to save her family from the horrors of the plague, but that is uncertain. In addition, Professor Rowland has expressed some anti-church sentiments in some of his teachings.”
“I see, Operative,” Crowley said. “Have you any idea where they would go now?”
“My expectation, Councilor Crowley, is that they used the sewers to flee Cultwick City,” she explained. “They likely headed west, to the frontier lands, but still within the Cultwick Empire’s boundaries.”
“Why do you think they would go to the west?” Councilor Lynch asked.
Alice continued, “This belief is the result of two comments spoken by two different individuals.
“First - a student of the professor made a comment about how he wished to flee to an area uncivilized with our religion. He wished to escape the... and I quote, ‘brainwashing’ from the church.
“Second - the test subject I mentioned previously, Fiona Newton. Ms. Newton and the heretic, Erynn Clover underwent an experiment with the goal of sharing consciousness. Ms. Newton made a comment about the heretic being in the ‘western’ sun.”
Crowley scratched at his beard before asking her, “Do you expect the heretic has any ties to that rebellion group forming up in that region?”
“I have no reason to suspect that at this time,” Alice answered, “but I will endeavor to discover that for certain, sir.”
“What do you intend to do now, Operative Page?” asked Councilor Rhinehart.
