Chapter XV: Into the Fire
The President’s Palace, Washington, December 13, 1792 (Infini Calendar), 11:12 a.m.
Farahilde finally stirred from her deep slumber. After a particularly hard night, she had eventually managed to go to bed around 3:00 a.m. Leopold was released from confinement, and tomorrow they were planning to return to Austria.
There was a knock at her door. She got up to answer it. Leopold stood there, looking embarrassed.
“What is it?” she asked. She hadn’t even bothered to change out of her clothes since last night.
He couldn’t meet her gaze. “Well…that is…” He forced himself to look her in the eyes. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t say this: Thank you for fighting to clear our names. This isn’t easy to admit, but you have made me proud.”
It wasn’t exactly an apology for the things he had said to her, but considering his pride, it was still a hell of a lot more than she had ever expected from him. “You are welcome, Leo. But I didn’t do it for you.”
“No, of course not,” he conceded. “However, the fact remains that you have saved us all, and the French commander will receive a suitable punishment for her crimes.”
Farahilde, Frederick and Pierre had caught up with Jeanne and George Washington after awkwardly climbing out of the Minuit Solaire II. Jeanne relayed the story of what had happened with the imposter woman; how she had admitted her guilt and surrendered to Washington and his troops. Deschanel’s two subordinates were not to be charged with any crimes, but neither could they return to the President’s Palace. For the time being, they would have to either remain in the downed airship or find lodging within the city.
“I’m just glad this is over and soon we can go home,” she said.
“With some important pieces of technology, no less.”
“Like what?”
“Well, for instance, the President is giving us crates full of coralite and the specifications to build the machines that process it.”
“Wow—you mean this trip is actually going to pay off?”
“Thanks to your hard work,” he smiled. He turned to leave, but stopped abruptly. He turned around, adding, “And I’m glad you didn’t die last night.”
***
“Milady!” Celeste hugged Jeanne with all her petite might.
“It’s good to see you, too,” Jeanne said.
Celeste had requested a visit with Jeanne after the bespectacled engineer finished making critical repairs to the Minuit Solaire II, though she couldn’t stay long.
“I kept hoping that if I stayed on the ship, I would see you again.”
“I’m just sorry we crashed it,” Jeanne said. She then added, “Again.”
“No, no, no, that’s all right. Don’t worry about it. The important thing is, we got to meet again.”
Jeanne smiled. “That we have. So, tell me—how have you been?”
Celeste rolled her eyes. “Well, the Emperor isn’t so bad. I mean, he’s a tyrant, but I seldom see him. Our current Commander, on the other hand, is cold and demanding. Or was. I don’t know who’s going to replace her now. It just hasn’t been the same without the old crew.
Jeanne patted her on the shoulder. “It’s OK; the bond we share will never be broken.”
***
After lunch, the final Gnostagar stone arrived by boat from South America. Washington wasted no time taking it down to the basement.
He had strengthened security around the basement after the events of last night. No one but him was allowed down there now.
He found the basement as he had left it the previous night. The stones were once again in the shape of a door (after being retrieved from the French airship), save for the one he now held in his hand.
With no small amount of trepidation, he bent down and put the final stone into place.
Nothing happened.
He waited several agonizing moments, but to no avail. There was absolutely no change in the stones, and no doorway into another world was going to appear.
He was beyond frustrated. He was supremely disappointed and on the verge of tears. His legacy was to be denied him. All his work was in vain. The Gnostagar did not exist, after all.
He slammed a fist onto the stone floor. He cared little of the pain.
“Disappointed?”
He turned around. John Adams stood there, smiling condescendingly.
“How did you get down here, John? I left explicit instructions no one be allowed in this room.”
Despite Washington’s anger, the vice-president kept his smirk intact. “Yes, your men did try to stop me. That was foolish of them.”
An alarm went off in Washington’s mind. “What are you talking about?”
“I think it’s better if I show you.”
John Adam’s skin and clothes shifted, almost as if they were liquid. Within moments he re-solidified, but he wasn’t the vice-president anymore.
“Ben! Is it…really you?”
The shape-shifter laughed. “Yes, it is I: Benjamin Franklin. Or rather, I was after I killed him.”
To George Washington, this was too much. His sanity threatened to snap at any moment. Perhaps it already had. “I…I do not understand. How can you be here?”
“It should be perfectly clear to someone of your intelligence, George. My real name is Shabalesh. I am a Gnostagar. How do you think I knew so much about them?”
It suddenly fell into place for him. “You wanted me to collect the stones so you could open the door.” However, that didn’t necessarily mean Shabalesh’s intentions were sinister. It was entirely possible he simply wanted to go home. But no—that was simply what he wanted to believe. In his heart he knew the truth. “But the door won’t open.” He was now glad it had failed.
Washington stepped aside as the Gnostagar walked up to the stones. “That’s because you don’t have the key.” He placed a palm down in the center of the stones. A faint green light began radiating outward.
Washington knew what it meant. “Coralite is the catalyst!”
Shabalesh’s gaze did not leave the glowing floor. “That is why we came to this world and not the other one. The other one doesn’t have coralite.”
“But why come here at all? What do you want?”
The Gnostagar looked up at him and smiled. “There will be time enough for conversation later. For now, I think it is time we change this building into some more…presentable.”
Washington knew he had to stop this being from another world. The President didn’t have any weapons on him, so that only left one option. He rushed to attack Shabalesh with his bare hands.
But before he could lay his hands on the invader, his chest was pierced by a dark tendril. Shabalesh’s free hand had mutated into a fleshy weapon and had speared him.
He fell backwards onto the hard floor. “It can’t end this way,” he rasped.
“Don’t worry,” Shabalesh said. “It won’t. The real end will be so much worse.”
A blinding light engulfed Washington. And then…nothing.
***
Reality gradually returned to Farahilde. She awoke on the floor of an unfamiliar room.
The last thing she remembered was being in her room in the President’s Palace, and suddenly there was an ear-splitting whine, followed by a brilliant light.
But this was not the President’s Palace. It looked similar, yet there was something about it, something alien, as if it was an imitation created by someone from another world. The walls were covered by something that looked like wood, but felt slightly rubbery. Beneath her feet was plush carpeting, but her feet tingled just standing on it.
Furthermore, despite the window blinds being open, it was dark in the room, more appropriate for dusk than afternoon. She looked out it and saw a bizarre red fog which crackled with what she guessed was lightning—but no sound could be heard. Visibility was only a few feet.
She stood there in eerie silence, trying in vain to come to terms wi
th what was happening. Did Washington open the door? Are we now in the Gnostagar world? Son of a bitch—I thought it was a fairy tale. Yet unfortunately she could not deny that something incredible was taking place.
She made sure she was still wearing her gauntlet with the concealed blades—though she wasn’t sure how useful they would be if she came under attack by otherworldly forces—and decided to explore this strange place.
She exited the room into a finely decorated hallway. Paintings of unrecognizable things adorned the walls. Once again she felt the familiar clashing with the unfamiliar; it looked like the President’s Palace, yet it wasn’t.
She spent a while roaming the surreal environment. She didn’t see anyone else around and only heard the occasional far-away noise. If there was someone else in this place, they weren’t anywhere near her.
Eventually she realized a simple but unsettling truth: Not only was this not the President’s Palace, it was much bigger. She guessed that she had spent close to an hour wandering through the labyrinthine corridors, and she still couldn’t find an exit. If the outside was filled with that strange weather she saw in the windows, though, she wasn’t sure she wanted to.
After even more wandering around, she came to a two-story room. A flight of stairs led down to the lower floor. She went down the stairs and found three doors, one in front of her and one on either side of her.
Suddenly the doors flanking her opened. Jeanne and Frederick entered the room. Each looked just as surprised to finally encounter other people.
“Farahilde! Thank God you’re all right,” Frederick said.
He was a sight for sore eyes. “I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad to see you as well,” she replied.
“But what is going on here?” Jeanne asked.
Farahilde shrugged. “Hell if I know. At least we’re as prepared as we can be to deal with it.” She indicated Jeanne’s armor.
“The room I found myself in still had my equipment. I was so tired last night I didn’t feel like carrying it back to Pierre’s smithy, so I just left it in my room at the President’s Palace.”
Frederick held up his sword. “It would seem that our belongings got transported with us to…wherever we are.”
A sound resembling fingers on a chalkboard directed their attention to a wooden speaker on the wall above the middle door. “I would like to welcome you all to my new home. You are my first guests.”
“Sounds like the speaking tubes on the Minuit Solaire I and II,” Jeanne said.
“Who is this guy?” Farahilde asked.
Frederick just shrugged.
“You are probably wondering where you are,” the distorted voice continued. “Rest assured, you are still in Washington. You have not moved.”
“Oh, yes, that’s much better,” Farahilde said sarcastically.
Jeanne motioned for her to be quiet so they could hear their mysterious host. “I was hoping the French and Austrian delegations would kill each other before I activated the stones. Sadly, that did not happen, and after the stones were nearly lost to theft I decided not to waste any more time. Thus, I have begun the process of opening the door to my world.”
“He’s a Gnostagar,” Jeanne whispered in awe.
“You probably also want to know what will happened when the door is finally opened. Well, that is simple: my people will invade your world!”
“Just keeps getting better and better,” Farahilde said.
“You should feel honored. You will see the beginning of a new world. If you live long enough, that is.”
A nearby rumbling alerted them that something was coming. “What’s that?” Frederick asked. There was no point, of course; they had absolutely no idea as to the answer.
“It doesn’t matter,” Farahilde said. “We’re going to go stop this guy, even if it kills us. We’ve got to save everyone.” She didn’t mention that she wanted to save Leopold as well. She was too embarrassed to admit she was actually starting to like the man.
Jeanne nodded. “That’s right. Last time, the fate of two countries was at stake. This time, it could be the world.” She hung her head in shame. “I was a fool to think the Gnostagar might be benevolent.”
“Don’t go getting depressed on me again, fräulein. We don’t have time to fight each other until our moods improve.” She was, of course, referring to that day at Jeanne’s dilapidated shack in the woods of southern France.”
Soon the sound coalesced into a rhythmic shuffling. “I think it’s coming beyond there,” Frederick said, indicating the door in front of them that none of them had opened yet.
Farahilde slowly put her hand on the knob—she didn’t want to admit just how much anxiety she was feeling at that particular moment—and opened the door. None of them were quite prepared for what awaited them on the other side.
At the end of a hallway, a large group of figures were marching toward them in perfect unity. These beings were obviously not human. They were beige-colored and wore tuxedos, but they had no faces. Their movements were stiff and mechanical.
“Say hello to the Clockworkx. They are servants created by my people.”
Farahilde limbered up her knuckles. “Say goodbye to the Clockworkx,” she said.
“Farahilde, wait,” Jeanne said. “We have no idea as to their capabilities.”
“She’s right,” Frederick added.
Farahilde shrugged. “Only one way to find out.”
She felt a surge of adrenaline, and she was afraid if it wore off she would hesitate to attack these strange enemies. She figured that Gnostagar bastard must lie beyond them, so they would have to go through them anyway.
So she ran at them, Jeanne following behind her and muttering curses. She wanted to keep herself between the enemy and Frederick; he had battle experience, but not nearly as much as she herself had.
The hallway was just wide enough for two of the automatons to stand side-by-side. She stabbed the first clockwork man with the blades of her gauntlet, but to no effect. The thing just stood there, staring at her even though it had no eyes. After a moment it casually took hold of her wrist. She was surprised by its strength. It effortlessly pulled her hand out of its chest. It then punched her in the chest, sending her flying into Frederick. They both went down.
“Farahilde! Are you all right? Talk to me!” Frederick yelled.
She couldn’t respond. All the wind had been knocked out of her. She struggled to take in breaths.
The Clockworkx at the head of the murderous procession raised their arms. Their four hands flipped down, revealing dark chambers. Jeanne seemed to sense what was coming, because she shielded Farahilde and Frederick as the automatons opened fire. She held up an arm to shield her head from the deadly barrage, but it obviously hurt like hell. She collapsed as soon as the attack ended.
“Fräulein!” This is the end, she thought. We’re going to die here, thousands of miles from home.
Suddenly there was a commotion behind the Clockworkx. There was yelling and grunting. “Listen to me!” someone yelled. “Their heads are their weakest part. Slash them at the neck!”
She got to her feet. “Understood!” She didn’t know who was helping them or why, but her course was clear. Payback time. “Watch over her,” she said to Frederick. He looked conflicted, but nodded anyway.
She strode up to the Clockworkx who had just sent her sailing. Its hands flipped back into place. Perhaps it was out of ammunition. She didn’t have time to think about it as the mechanical man attempted to backhand her. It may have been incredibly strong, but her finely honed instincts were not to be underestimated. She ducked the attack and slashed at the glorified doll’s neck per the instructions of her mysterious new allies. The thing’s head separated from its body, leaving only sparking wires and a smelly black liquid in its wake.
She did the same to its friend before it could react, and the one behind it, and so on. She dispatched mechanical man after mechanical man in a decapitation ballet until she reached the end o
f the queue. There she discovered more broken automatons and the identity of her mysterious allies.
“You sure love takin’ your sweet time,” Jean-Louis said. He and Emil stood over the broken bodies of their inhuman enemies in the room beyond the hallway.
“Watch your tongue, you bumpkin,” Farahilde said. She may have been grateful for the assist, but she wasn’t about to be disrespected by some country lowlife, especially one that had so recently helped frame her for heinous crimes.
Jean-Louis moved to close the distance between them, but Emil held him back. “We don’t have time for this,” he told Jean-Louis.
“For once, we agree,” Farahilde said. She then remembered the two people she had left behind and went to go check on them. Frederick helped Jeanne to her feet. “Are you all right, fräulein?”
“I’ve been worse.”
“It’s a good thing you were wearing armor,” Frederick said.
Emil and Jean-Louis came over to join them. “Can you walk?” Emil asked.
“I’ll be fine,” Jeanne assured them. “The armor took the brunt of it. Still, those mechanical men were more dangerous than we expected. We need to be more cautious.”
“Kinda difficult when we don’t know what to expect,” Jean-Louis said.
“That’s a good point,” Frederick said. He then asked the Frenchmen, “Say, what are you two are doing here? I thought you weren’t allowed back in the President’s Palace.”
“In case ya haven’t noticed, this aint the President’s Palace,” Jean-Louis retorted.
Emil added, “Indeed. We don’t know how we got here. One minute we were on the Minuit Solaire II trying to make repairs, and suddenly there was a loud noise and a blinding light. The next thing we knew, we were in this strange house.”
“It was the same for us,” Frederick said.
“I have a theory,” Jeanne said.
Farahilde arched an eyebrow. “Do tell.”
“If the Gnostagar who taunted us over the speaker was telling the truth, then we’re still in the same general location in Washington. Add to that the fact that this building is much bigger than the President’s Palace, then perhaps this area has been painted over, as it were, the existing landmarks replaced with this mansion.”
Secrets of the New World (Infini Calendar) (Volume 2) Page 14
