by Sean Allen
Otto drew his revolver and gripped it by the barrel. He walked steadily toward Blink, who continued to claw feverishly at the sediment, casting loose debris behind him without a backward glance. Otto raised the butt of the gun over his head and prepared to strike. His mind protested for an instant, but he shook off the guilt with a steady dose of proficient, military logic. “He’s going to get us killed! There’s no way Malo survived the cave-in—Berzerkers’ll be here any second!” He raised his arm, then swung it down toward the back of Blink’s head. But he never made it through the full range of his motion. Something else in Otto’s mind had interrupted his movements—something he couldn’t believe.
Just as his arm curved down to strike, Otto’s reflexes sent him diving out of the way of a massive chunk of crag. In an amazing display of strength, Blink had snatched up, turned and heaved the boulder behind him and it had missed crushing Otto’s lower half by inches. Otto sprang back to his feet and readjusted his revolver so the business end was pointed toward danger. Otto was awestruck. He was roughly three feet taller than Blink, and he was almost certain that even without years of military training, he would have been much stronger than the doctor. But even he would have found it nearly impossible to move that boulder, let alone heave it out of the way. “Did he just throw that at me? How did he lift the damn thing in the first place? What the shit’s gotten into this guy?!” Otto thought as he slowly moved toward Blink’s right side, his revolver leading the way. He wasn’t quite sure what to do. Blink was acting out of character, and as Otto watched the little doctor work he had an uneasy feeling that something else had taken over Blink’s body.
“Artie?” Otto spoke as evenly as he could, but he couldn’t hide the slight hint of confusion and fear in his voice. “Artie, I’m gonna ask you to stop what you’re doing and turn around. Artie?” He hesitated. “I’m only gonna ask you one more time.” He pulled on the big hammer of his revolver and it clicked into place. As Otto inched closer he could see streams of perspiration gliding down twisted paths of the doctor’s grimacing visage as he jerked and scratched at the fallen rocks of the cave. From this angle, it didn’t look entirely like Blink’s face. It looked half like his face and half…something else.
Otto reached out his left hand and guided it cautiously toward Blink’s right shoulder as he steadily increased pressure on the trigger of the gun. Otto’s hand quivered as his fingertips hovered over the torn fabric of Blink’s lab coat. Something was not right and his stomach twisted into knots as the tension that separated the two of them charged the air with feral energy. Otto clasped his hand down and Blink spun around with animal ferocity.
“MALO!” the doctor screamed.
The hammer on Otto’s revolver crept slightly back and balanced perfectly on its fulcrum; a hair’s breadth between its resting place and the explosive primer on the bullet waiting within the cold, dark chamber.
CRACK!
As he struggled to understand what had just happened, Otto’s left hand fumbled with the hammer of the gun while diverting the barrel down and away from Blink.
“What was that?!” he said while side-stepping carefully past the doctor and eyeing the small hole.
“It’s Malo!” Blink said deliriously.
“Don’t be a fool, man!” barked Otto, his frustration accentuating each word. “How the hell could he have survived the cave-in, huh? He wasn’t anywhere near our position when the tunnel collapsed and we barely made it out—think about it!”
“I’m telling you, it’s Malo, dammit!” Blinks eyes were wild with defiance.
“Goddamit, Artie! I’m not going to sit here and argue with you out in the open and wait for a Berzerker patrol to kill us or worse! Now I’m telling you, there’s no way he could’ve surv—”
Otto stopped his rant and leaned closer as more of the ruin crumbled. “Malo?” He questioned the hole and the voice inside his head questioned his own sanity as he stood there waiting for the darkness to reply. The chiding of the little voice grew in volume and intensity as stark silence floated out of the opening like a gut-turning vapor. His arms sagged to his sides as he let out a sigh of frustration, and he slumped against the rubble in defeat. Otto sat in silence with his service revolver resting on his thigh as he shook his head from side to side; and then the collapsed vent gave out a rumbling sound from somewhere deep within its throat.
“Mmmmm….”
The sound echoed faintly below in the chasm and wafted delicately upward, barely escaping through the tiny hole Blink had clawed open. It was an indistinct grumble and it sounded like the cave was shifting into its new position, settling into its final resting place for all eternity.
“M-m-m-m-m-a-a-a…”
Otto’s small ears perked at the distant sound. He cupped his hands around his temples as he pressed his face to the hole. The inside of the cave was pure darkness and he couldn’t see anything.
“Major!” the tunnel echoed.
“Malo? Are you there!”
“Snort! Malo here!”
“It’s Malo! Artie, you were right—haha! It’s Malo!” Otto pulled his face out of the cave, gripped Blink by the shoulders, and gave him an enthusiastic shake before ducking back into the hole.
“Malo, give me a sit-rep!” Otto said.
“Malo hanging. Can’t touch floor. Malo see light above.”
“Can you hold on while we figure out how to get you outta there?” Otto said, trying to hide his concern. He could feel the blanking affects of anxiety erase his smile and he was thankful the Moxen couldn’t see his face.
“Malo losing grip.”
Otto turned from the hole once more to face Blink and form a plan, but he found himself standing alone in the crater. Blink was gone, and for an instant, he thought the doctor had made for the ship and left him and Malo to their fate. But before the thought could solidify into more than a morbid notion, Blink reappeared at the top of the crater with a battered Bertie in tow. Otto noticed that Bertie was not only badly dented and gouged, but he was leaking a dark fluid from all four of his arm joints as well as from the main cog on his right tread, and a steady stream of smoke was rising from somewhere beneath him. He moved slowly behind Blink, clanking and pinging, in an off-kilter wobble, and his lower left arm hung lifeless at the side of his table. He halted at the rim of the indentation and immediately hoisted a shaky right hand into a salute for Otto.
“At ease, soldier,” Otto said admiringly. “You saved us all, Bertie, and I’m damn proud of you!”
Bertie straightened as much as his damaged chassis would allow at the compliment and, unlike in the infirmary, Otto was sure this time that the machine was responding to the praise.
“I’m going to ask you to do your duty one more time, Bertie. I know you’re hurt and your power is low, but Malo is alive and he’s down in this hole right now and we need to get him out. I’m going to have to ask you to help us and then, I promise, I’ll get you all fixed up. How’s that sound?”
Bertie raised a slightly sharper salute in acknowledgment as fluid continued to slowly seep from his damaged chassis and stain the dirt around him.
Otto studied the jumble of craggy rocks and boulders that meshed together like a giant puzzle and sealed off the opening of the vent shaft. He stood in the cool pit of the crater as his friend dangled precariously on the edge of life and death just a few feet below. He knew that Bertie had barely enough power for one shot at this—he knew they would have to get it right the first time or Malo would die.
“What’re you waiting for?” The crazed look was still burning behind the little half-moon spectacles on Blink’s snout. “Bertie, move the boulders and get Malo out!”
This time, Bertie was either too tired to listen to Blink or he knew that Otto would have the final word as the commanding military officer—either way, he didn’t move.
“Bertie, dammit—I gave you an order!”
“We can’t move any of the boulders.” The authority in Otto’s voice was unmistakab
le. “They’re meshed together and held in place by gravity. Malo is suspended in a pocket created in part by Bertie’s exit, and any one of these rocks could be the keystone holding this entire cap together. If we move the wrong one, we could collapse the whole thing and kill him.”
Blink stood in irreverent silence. He sucked in the cool air and expelled the humid exhaust—saturated and dripping with anger—in loud hissing sounds between his clenched teeth.
“There’s no other way! If we don’t get him out soon, we’re going to be captured or killed—we’ll just have to risk it! Bertie!”
“NO!” Otto barked. He had had enough. He no longer cared what the battle with the Berzerkers had done to Blink’s mind or that he had been wrong and Blink had been right about Malo. All that mattered now was getting everyone out alive, and if Artemus Blink was going to endanger that plan, Otto would take any action necessary to subdue him—any action necessary.
“I don’t know what’s gotten in to you, you sonofabitch, and I really don’t give a flying Berzerker shit! We’re gonna do this thing my way, and if you have a problem with that, you better be prepared to come down in this hole and kill me ‘cause that’s the only way you or Bertie or anything else is gonna move another one of these goddam boulders without my say so—you got that, doctor?!”
Otto’s breathing was charged with adrenaline, and his senses were sharp as he prepared for Blink to make a move. Blink stood on the precipice of the crater and glared down at him. Otto stepped slowly backward toward the hole while keeping his keen eyes fixed on the doctor. He knelt down, turned his head slightly, and talked over his shoulder.
“Malo, we can’t move any of these boulders because that might cave in the roof and crush you.”
“What we do?” Malo responded calmly.
“Do you still have The Guardian?
Otto saw the hatred burn out of Blink’s eyes and a slight smirk of comprehension crease the corner of his lips.
“Malo has cannon.”
“Thank god for that,” Otto sighed under his breath. “Malo, can you get into position to fire at the cave entrance?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, Malo, count down from twenty and then shoot the roof. The cannon will clear most of the rubble from the entrance, and the blast should break the big chunks up so they don’t fall back down and hit you. Got it?”
“Say when Malo start counting.”
“On my mark, Malo. Three, two, one, mark!”
Otto could hear deep grunts issue from the small opening as he jogged to the wall of the crater and Malo began the countdown. Bertie had already turned and was wobbling steadily away from the vent shaft opening. Otto dug his claws into the rocky wall, and he had only hoisted his weight up the incline a few feet when he caught a glimpse of Blink peering inhospitably down at him. He didn’t move and Otto could swear that his face distorted somehow. It flashed from the soft, round features of the doctor to something harder, something more dangerous. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw a subtle, cruel smile flicker on the doctor’s mouth for an instant and then vanish. Before Otto could give it another thought, the portion of the wall that he was holding crumbled in his grip, and he slipped toward the bottom of the crater only to be stopped by a tight pinching feeling around his wrist. His right hand had slid down the crevice he was holding onto and lodged itself into the wall. He was stuck. He could barely hear the rhythmic cadence of Malo counting the seconds until he blasted the rocks into oblivion over the panic pounding in his head.
“Ten.”
“Ten seconds—you should be a hundred yards from here!” he thought.
“Malo!” He cried out to stop the countdown, but Malo couldn’t hear him over the echo of his own voice. The Moxen’s deep intonation continued in the darkness. Otto clawed desperately at the smooth rock with his feet—trying to find enough traction to propel himself to any safe distance, but it was no use. Even if he could break free from the iron grip of the crater wall, releasing and attempting another approach was a death sentence now.
“Seven.” Malo’s words floated up from the chasm and beat into Otto’s heart like a hammer.
“Six.”
“Bertie! Artie! HELP!”
Otto cursed to himself and wondered what he had truly seen in Blink’s last look. He wasn’t sure what Blink would tell Malo about how Otto had died or whether the Moxen would be safe with him. He could certainly trust Bertie, but if Otto died, the medical machine would no doubt revert to taking orders from the deranged doctor. “What in the hell is going on here?” he thought, and he was sure it would be the last question he would ever ask himself. But instead of feeling the blistering, explosive force of The Guardian blow him to pieces, he felt a strong hand grip his free arm around the wrist and hoist him from his stationary spot on the crater wall. His pinned arm pulled momentarily against the rest of his body and then broke loose, scraping against the jagged crack.
“Four.”
Otto was running all out from the vent shaft opening. It felt like his heart was pounding in his throat and pumping acid through his veins as he wrung every muscle in his body for maximum output.
“Two. One.”
The blast from The Guardian shook the ridge and sent a stream of rock, fire, and billowing smoke arcing across the pale, blue sky. Chunks of boulder and debris, angry at being dislodged from their resting places, rained down and pelted the soft ridge dirt in a violent storm. Otto was half-pulled and half-dove onto his side behind a large mass deposited by their first escape from the jaws of the vent shaft. He cupped his hands over his ears and closed his eyes, half expecting the blast to disintegrate his body and scatter his ashes to the wind. It wasn’t until the shockwave passed and the sounds of falling debris softened from heavy thuds and crashes to light taps that Otto dared to look out onto the ridge again. He expected Bertie’s battered treads and gouged arms to greet him and pull him to his feet. Instead, he found himself almost nose to nose with the jovial, smiling face of Doctor Blink.
“Artie? Where’s Bertie?” said Otto, more confused than ever.
“I didn’t know if he’d have enough power to come back for you and hoist Malo out of the cave. I hope you don’t mind, but I sent him away as quickly as possible to minimize the risk of damaging him during the blast.” The soft, round features had returned to Blink’s face and he was talking like a calculating scientist again.
“How on earth did you lift me out of that hole…and—and—the boulder?” Otto was stuttering and trying to make sense of the doctor’s odd behavior.
“The body and the mind,” Blink said, waggling his forefinger in the air, “are capable of amazing things in extreme situations. Countless acts of strength and heroism have been attributed to the adrenal response to fear or danger.” Blink was back to his usual educational lecturing style of dialogue, and his renowned enthusiasm for all things scientific danced in his voice once again.
“For a second, I thought you’d gone off the deep end,” Otto said hesitantly, still not ready to completely buy into Blink’s turnaround.
“Yes, I admit that almost being shot, squashed into jelly, crushed by rocks, and the very real possibility of being eaten alive had a negative effect on me. I’m sorry about that. As long as I can remember I’ve dedicated myself to saving lives. I suppose I can get a little carried away about it.” Blink looked away for a second and Otto noticed a look of remorse crinkle the features on his face.
“It’s okay, Artie. Sometimes I forget that not everybody is trained to handle combat.” Otto felt the need to express not only his gratitude for being saved but also an apology for very seriously considering hitting Blink over the head. He didn’t want to admit that he also had considered shooting the doctor, so he brushed that thought aside as complete nonsense and jumped to his feet as Bertie came rolling into view from behind another large stone off to their right. “Thank you for coming back and saving me,” he said, placing his hand on Blink’s shoulder. “Now, let’s get Malo and get o
ut of here!”
Otto bounded back to the rim of the crater and peered down the newly excavated opening. A smile graced his lips as he shook his head from side to side in utter astonishment.
“Lieutenant Schunkari, you never cease to amaze.” He chuckled and shot a wink at Malo. The Moxen was hanging from his enormous battle hammer, which was wedged horizontally between the walls of the collapsed vent shaft. Malo was gripping the handle of the hammer with his left hand, and The Guardian, its smoldering barrel pointing down the shaft, was clutched in his right. The soft light of the sun shone on the gray coat of dust that covered Malo and illuminated streams of Banzium particles that swirled around him before drifting into the bottomless black that loomed just below his hooves.
“How’re you doing, big man?” Otto said.
“Malo can’t hold much longer. Like to go now. Promised fish man.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” said Otto as he nervously looked around the ridge.
Bertie pulled up on Otto’s left at the rim of the crater and Blink flanked the medical machine. The doctor let out a squeak of joy, and Bertie wiggled the scraped fingers on his lower right hand in greeting.
“It’s good to see you, Malo!” Blink said happily. “We’ll have you out in a jiffy!”
“Artie, we’re only going to get one shot at this,” Otto said, turning to Blink and speaking in a grave tone. “Malo can’t hold on long enough for us to get the ship to hoist him out, and I’m afraid that if Bertie tries to dislodge the hammer by pulling on both ends, he might waste all of his energy and the hammer may not even budge.”
“What are you suggesting?” Blink questioned intently, rubbing his spectacles on his tattered lab coat and studying Otto through squinted eyes.
“Well, Malo is hanging by his left hand. If Bertie can concentrate on moving one end of the hammer—say, the right side—it might move more easily, and he’ll still have enough strength to help Malo out of the hole.”
Blink studied Otto for a second and considered the plan.
“I think you’re right,” Blink said. “It maximizes his chances of getting out of the shaft if they split the work.”
