by S. D. Stuart
“I am the East Marshal; doesn’t that give me some protection?”
“Not even your predecessor would venture into the gambling district after dark.”
“Then why are we going there?”
“You want to teach your automaton to fight, don’t you?”
“Of course.”
“The arena is the best place to learn.”
“I don’t have any money. How will I pay for the training?”
Jasper smiled. “I know the owner. I’m sure we can work out some sort of arrangement.”
They emerged from the tunnel through Munch’s wall. Colorful streamers and confetti filled the street. In the distance, she could hear festive music that was occasionally drowned out by shouting. No, not shouting. More like a large crowd of people cheering.
She followed Jasper through several back alleyways. At the other end of some cross passages, she caught a glimpse of throngs of people dressed up in colorful costumes all dancing in the street.
“Stay close to me. You’re lucky to have come during Carnival. It should help us hide you and your automaton’s identity better.”
“What’s Carnival?”
Jasper ignored her question and reached over to tug her cloak closed. “And keep that marshal star hidden. We don’t want anybody seeing who you are or we won’t get very far.”
She caught up to Jasper and yelled in his ear. “Why are they all dancing?”
“They are dancing for you.”
“What do you mean me?”
“Word has spread about the death of the old Marshal and how the new Marshal brought soldiers and weapons to free us from the tyranny of the existing rulers. Munch told me one of your soldiers survived the crash. I know this doesn’t say much about the previous Marshal, but the general consensus is relief and excitement. Everyone hopes you will be a better Marshal than the last one.”
She wondered how they would all feel if they knew she didn’t want the job but was instead trying to get out of OZ as fast as she could.
“I thought you said I arrived during Carnival. This can’t all be just for me.”
“No, of course not. We celebrate Carnival with the change of the seasons. It is an added bonus that we have a new Marshal.”
“You have Carnival four times a year?”
“Yes.”
“Is it always this big?”
“This time is bigger than most because of you, but it can still get very big.”
“Do any of these people realize they are all in a prison?”
“OZ is only a prison to those on the outside. To us, it is home.”
They darted through more back alleys.
“Why are we avoiding the crowds?”
“We would never make it through the city trying to move through the crowds. And if anyone saw you, we wouldn’t get anywhere. You are our biggest celebrity. Everyone would want a picture with you.”
“You’re not going gaga over me?”
“I don’t want to be outside the casino when the sun drops below the horizon. I can go gaga over you later.”
She didn’t know what to think about this boy who was born here and lived his entire life within the confines of the world’s largest prison. Of course, nothing she had experienced thus far felt like a prison. It was more like any other city she visited when shopping for new farming equipment with Uncle Henry.
She thought of Uncle Henry and Aunt Em and wondered if they would welcome her back when she got out of OZ.
As they passed an open courtyard area between several buildings, her eye caught the glimpse of tarnished metal and she stopped short. Several young children were climbing on a massive statue. Only it wasn’t a statue at all.
Dorothy moved closer and saw that it was a tree cutter automaton. Only now it served as an impromptu play structure for children. Two of them took turns hitting it on the leg with a metal pipe and laughing at the echoing sound that reverberated throughout the armored metal body.
Scarecrow stopped and looked at the rusted automaton with children climbing all over it. Scarecrow stared at it only because she had been staring at it.
Dorothy smiled and pointed to the large machine. “It’s a Woodsman model. Now I get it. They re-purposed forest clearing automatons into the local police of OZ.”
Jasper ran up to her, out of breath.
“I turned around and you were gone. Why did you stop?”
“Just how dangerous is this city at night?
“Very. If we keep moving we can just make it to the casino.”
She regarded the large automaton.
“I want to see if I can get that thing fired up.”
“That’s been there forever. It doesn’t work.”
“But if it does, we will be that much safer.”
“We don’t have time for this.”
Dorothy watched the sun dip below the edge of the city skyline in the distance. It would be dark within the hour. “We’ve already run out of time.”
Chapter 11
Dorothy spent the better part of that hour working on the Woodsman. Jasper paced back and forth, muttering to himself while the children gathered around and closely watched her progress.
She wondered if they secretly hoped she couldn’t fix it. Otherwise, their playground would, literally, walk away.
Despite the risk of losing their favorite toy, the children were very helpful in collecting tools and even a gallon of oil from the surrounding houses. One of them retrieved some coal for the furnace that powered the Woodsman.
She wanted to believe that they helped because they were curious if she could really fix the Woodsman, but Jasper reminded her that if the Marshal asked for the shirts off their back, they would give them to her.
As long as she wore that shield on her chest, they would obey her.
She tucked in the worn copper wiring, screwed the cover plate closed, and stood back to admire her work.
“Anybody got a match?”
“Yeah,” Jasper muttered a little too loudly. “Your face and my butt.”
Dorothy shot him a bitter glance.
“Here you are Marshal.” One of the little boys, who had taken turns beating the Woodsman with a metal pipe, offered her flint and steel.
She took them and scraped them over the charcloth. The sparks ignited it immediately. She cupped the smoldering cloth in her hands to keep the light breeze from blowing it out and placed it into the Woodsman’s firebox.
Everyone took a careful step backward as the firebox began creating the steam that would drive the Woodsman’s gears.
There was a loud boom and black smoke engulfed everyone. She gathered the children together and peered through the smoke.
“Is everyone okay?”
She could still hear the huffing sound of the Woodsman’s boiler coming from somewhere inside the smoke.
The Woodsman suddenly emerged and everyone reflexively took a step backward as he slowly scanned the group. He focused on two of the boys to her left and approached them. A speaker mounted on the front of the Woodsman crackled and his mechanically modulated voice addressed the group.
“Court is now in session.”
She observed the unexpected trial as the Woodsman played back a recorded sound of metal striking metal.
His deep metallic voice echoed throughout the entire courtyard. “The evidence has been presented. How do you plead?”
The two boys knelt in the corner and cried in terror.
“Your plea has been logged. You have been found guilty of attempted destruction of city property and are hereby sentenced to death.”
The chainsaws mounted at the end of each of the Woodsman’s arms spun to life with a piercing whine.
Dorothy witnessed enough and stepped forward, she wasn’t about to let the Woodsman harm these children.
Jasper grabbed her arm. “He’ll kill you for interfering.”
She stared at his hand.
Jasper released her and held his hand up. “Don’t say
I didn’t warn you.”
She moved closer to the Woodsman.
Jasper called out to her. “Can I have your Scarecrow when you are chopped to itty bitty bits?”
She ignored him and stepped in front of the twin spinning chainsaws and stood as tall as she could, but her five foot four frame would never come close to matching the nine and a half feet of welded steel that the Woodsman commanded.
“What do you think you are doing Woodsman?”
The chainsaws continued to spin, but he stopped moving closer.
“I am programmed to uphold the law.”
She pointed to the shield on her leather corset. “I am the law here.”
“Your shield is a symbol. You are the spirit of the law. I uphold the letter of the law. The two felons behind you have been found guilty of attempted destruction of city property.”
She looked around her at the dilapidated and crumbling buildings of this depressed part of the city. How could anyone tell if these kids are destroying anything?
She focused her attention back on the Woodsman. “What destruction?”
“They were beating on me with a metal pipe,” said the Woodsman as he stood up straighter, as if filled with a sudden pride. “I am city property.”
“How long were you standing there before I repaired you?”
“Two years, nine months, five days, four hours and two minutes.”
“They had no idea you were still functioning.”
“Ignorance is no excuse.”
“They are just kids.”
“They are guilty.”
“I will not allow you to kill these boys.”
“Are you ordering me to commute their sentence?”
“I am asking you to have a heart. Show some empathy for these children.”
Dorothy stared at the single unblinking eye of the Woodsman. She tried not to focus on the chainsaws. The sharp blades spinning so close and so fast, the wind they generated wafted at the edges of her hair.
The seconds stretched into minutes while the Woodsman appeared to consider her request. It stood there doing nothing. Nevertheless, nothing was better than anything the Woodsman was capable of doing. She hoped the Marshal shield would keep the Woodsman from cutting her in half.
The chainsaws ground to a stop and the Woodsman lowered his arms.
She let out the breath she wasn’t aware she had been holding. It was time to start making some changes around here, and as the new Marshal, that job seemed to fall on her.
She looked up at the nine and a half foot tall behemoth and smiled.
“I am changing your primary function, Woodsman.”
Dorothy watched from the shadows as Jasper talked to a man who held his shotgun casually against one shoulder. He obviously did not consider Jasper a threat. It seemed odd that an armed guard stood in front of the rusted door of an abandoned warehouse. Then again, Dorothy was moving around inside the world’s largest prison. These people probably hung onto every piece of scrap as if it were pure gold.
Jasper finished and ran back across the street to meet up with Dorothy.
“He said for a hundred, we can spend the night inside.”
“I don’t have any money.”
“Don’t look at me, I’m twelve.”
Dorothy stared across the street.
She started to cross the street. Jasper caught her arm and stopped her. “What are you doing?”
“You keep telling me it’s not safe out here at night.”
“It’s not.”
“We need to get inside somewhere now, right?”
He let her arm go and followed behind as she approached the man standing in front of the door.
He was much taller up close than she expected.
He stepped forward and put a hand up.
“I already told your friend, no money, no room.”
She smiled her warmest smile. “I’m afraid I am new around here and am not familiar with your customs. I don’t even really belong here.”
The guard laughed. “None of us do missy. But the world decided it was better to forget about us than to deal with us.”
“I’m just looking for a place to spend the night.”
“Then you best keep looking. As soon as that sky gets a shade darker, I’m going to be on the other side of that door and won’t be responsible for what happens out here.”
Dorothy looked around at the deserted street. She had spent several hours in OZ outside of Munch’s compound, and so far, everyone behaved like people in any city.
She turned back to the guard. “Everyone keeps talking about how dangerous this place becomes when the sun goes down. What happens?”
The guard leaned in close as if to disclose some big secret. “That’s when the people who deserve to be in here come out to play.”
The guard stepped back to the door and knocked twice. “It’s been fun chatting with you, but my dinner is getting cold.”
The door opened and he started inside.
Dorothy stepped up the first step. The guard spun around, racked his shotgun and pointed it at her.
“Stay back missy. Don’t make me do something I’m just going to have to clean up in the morning.”
“Eckert!” A woman emerged from the open door. “What are you doing?”
Eckert immediately lowered the shotgun and bowed slightly to the woman.
“My job ma’am.”
“Your job is not to turn away strangers when the sun has already gone down.”
She turned to Dorothy and opened the door wider. “You will have to excuse him. Manners are not something that comes naturally in OZ. Please, come inside.”
Dorothy and Jasper followed her into the warehouse. Eckert locked the door from the inside and joined them in the abandoned warehouse.
Dorothy fell alongside the woman as they walked. “I don’t mean to be any trouble.”
The woman laughed. It was the first genuine laugh Dorothy had heard since crashing in the Outcast Zone. “It’s no trouble at all. Eckert’s best quality is his ability to follow orders without question. It is what got him sent here in the first place. He listened to the wrong people. Fortunately, he found his way to us before he could get into any more trouble. A lot like the two of you. My name is Mary.”
“I’m Dor …”
Jasper interrupted her before she could finish. “She’s the new East Marshal.”
Mary glanced sideways at her as they continued to walk through the empty warehouse. “I gathered that from the star poking its way out of her cloak.”
Dorothy pinched her cloak closed with one hand as if ashamed of her new-found status in OZ.
Mary stopped in the middle of the warehouse at a cast iron grate in the floor. Eckert grabbed one side of the grate and lifted. It swung upward to reveal stairs leading down. The stench from below overpowered Dorothy’s senses. She stumbled back as if physically hit. How could people live under such conditions?
Mary looked down the hole. “Home sweet home.”
Dorothy followed Mary to the bottom of the stairs. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness as they descended and she saw the rotting animal carcasses nailed to the wall.
Once at the bottom, Mary retrieved an oil lamp from its hook. They were at the end of a long tunnel that faded off into blackness beyond the weak reach of Mary’s lamp. She heard Eckert shut and lock the grate above them. It sealed in the smell of death and despair. She had to suppress the overwhelming urge to vomit.
Despite Mary’s warm smile and easy manner, Dorothy could not help but feel trapped. OZ was more than just a prison. It was a prison, inside a prison, inside another prison. Mary moved on ahead and turned the corner. Her light faded quickly.
Jasper and Dorothy looked at each other. He shrugged his shoulders and took his hand away from his mouth momentarily. “If they planned to eat us, they would have killed us outside.”
Eckert arrived at the bottom of the stairs. “What are you waiting for?”
He shoulde
red past them and disappeared around the dark corner.
Jasper glanced at her and grimaced. “I hate the dark.”
He followed Eckert around the corner leaving her alone at the base of the stairs.
She suddenly wished she had brought Scarecrow with her. Even though he couldn’t do anything but follow her like a little lost puppy, just having him by her side would make someone think twice before doing anything.
No, she thought. Jasper was right. If anyone knew she had, not one, but two automatons in her possession, they would be used as currency to get food or a place to sleep for the night. Still she was uneasy about ordering them to stay put, covered in garbage in some back alley, until she returned.
They had not complained, but they deserved better.
Before all the light from Mary’s lamp faded away completely, Dorothy rushed to catch up.
The tunnel was composed of several turns, but no branches. There was no risk of getting lost down here. There was only one way to go. At the second turn, she heard the sound of rushing air. She looked up and saw a massive turbine pulling the foul smelling air up and out of the tunnel. Just past the turbine, someone placed orange peels into mesh bags and hung them on the walls. The fragrant fruit, along with the turbine, eliminated the stench from the rotting flesh at the start of the tunnel. From this spot deep underground, OZ smelled better than ever. It even smelled better than Aunt Em’s farm in the springtime when everything was in bloom.
She heard the murmur of a multitude of voices talking over one another from around the corner and walked faster. She rounded the next corner and could see light up ahead at the next corner; the murmur of voices grew louder with each step.
She rounded the final corner and her mouth fell open at the sight before her.
The ceiling of the chamber that the tunnel emptied into stood fifty feet above them. The entire ten thousand square foot hollowed out space was well lit. Rows of tables lined the center of the chamber where at least a hundred people were all sitting, laughing, talking, and eating.
Dorothy’s stomach growled. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until the savory smells from the feast wafted toward her from the long tables.
Mary came up to her with a young girl at her side. “I’d like you to meet Mara, my daughter. She will show you where you can get cleaned up for dinner.”
