Jake snorted as he continued. And some said those people who were touched by the glowing man were blessed. I suppose they were—they survived. But no, Spear was not in contact with Sakave. Spear called the being that had contacted him the “Electrizer,” and claimed that it gave him visions of a new world, and that world would need a messiah of its own. The Electrizer told Spear to build an Electrical Infant, one that would protect humanity and usher in a new age of industry and peace. We Caulborn were skeptical. After all, how many of our adversaries have first appeared in the guise of benevolent friends?
And yet, as I watched Spear work, watched him build his Infant, I began to hope. Not just that the Electrizer was really benevolent, but that Spear would succeed. It was a selfish hope, you see. I had been the only one of my kind for nearly four hundred years. I wanted a companion. Not a mate, not a child of my own, but a friend who would understand what it meant to be a construct in a world of living beings.
It took Spear two years to construct his Infant. Special parts and gears had to be forged, the metal had to be attuned to spiritual energies, and the construction was a delicate process. I found out later that the Electrizer had been teleporting celestial metal into our realm, and Spear wove that with common steel to build the Infant’s skeleton. He labored night and day, performing calculations, crafting parts, pouring his heart and soul into his synthetic child.
I blinked. Holy crap, Cynthia was made of celestial metal?
Jake continued his story. And Spear was successful. Mostly. The Infant drew her first breath on June 5, 1854. I remember the Infant’s creation had caught the attention of a local paper, which ran the headline: THE THING MOVES. Thing. Jake shook his head. Spear had created life, had brought something both miraculous and wondrous into an otherwise weary world, and they called it a thing.
It turned out the Electrizer had an ulterior motive, though. One that benefited us all. When the Infant drew her first breath, she activated a sort of reality stabilizing field. The celestial metal in her frame augmented that field, and some of the fractures in reality that Sakave had created suddenly sealed. Jake clenched and unclenched his hands. We thought our work was done at that point. However, the inquisitors neglected to mention that a sizable number of Sakave’s forces had already assembled in the Bridgewater Triangle. They felt that it was unnecessary to tell us, because they had people in the swamp.
“Guessing that didn’t go well?”
Jake shook his head. The nirrin were more than the inquisitors had bargained for and overran the swamp detail stationed in Bridgewater. Then they attacked Spear’s church, where the Infant was sleeping.
The official story is that the Infant only took a few breaths and then expired. The truth is that she was badly damaged during the fighting. Several Caulborn agents, including me, were there, and we fended off the nirrin and saved Cynthia’s life.
Afterward, we magically wiped the memories of the attack from Spear’s and his congregation’s minds. We told Spear that the Infant was dead and that we were confiscating the remains. His faith in the world was shaken by the Infant’s demise, and the Electrizer did not respond to his subsequent calls, so he felt abandoned and became despondent. He moved on, thinking he was a failure.
“Why’d you let him think she was destroyed?” I asked.
Jake sighed. That was the inquisitors’ call. They felt that it was safer for Spear and his congregation to believe the Infant was dead. That it would reduce the chances of another attack against them, and thus keep the paranormal world safely hidden from the masses. Spear was so passionate about what he’d created, I never felt right about the deception. He shrugged. But the decision was made, and we had to enforce it.
At that point, the Caulborn took in the Electrical Infant. We brought her here, to our then newly created headquarters. I volunteered to be her guardian, and Moses Brown, the leader of the Boston office at that time, agreed. I named her Cynthia. In the last hundred and fifty years, she’s grown to the size of a toddler, as you’ve seen, but her development, both physical and mental, has been stunted. She never recovered from injuries she took during the fight that night; repairing her would require a lot of celestial metal and other alchemical materials that aren’t on this plane.
She’s so weak she can’t even lift the books she loves to read so much, and her mind struggles to grasp abstract concepts. But she can still generate that reality reinforcement field.
“Did you ever find out what the Electrizer really was?” I asked.
It took a lot of divinations to work that out, Jake said. I worked with a dozen seers, and the only one who ever had any luck was Mrs. Rita. She said that the Electrizer was so far removed from our plane that all she was able to get was its name. Karlegon.
My mouth went dry. The same guy who had made and then lobotomized the Urisk was also responsible for Cynthia’s creation. He must’ve been trying to stop Sakave from conquering any more worlds. And he was doing it proactively, if he was giving out plans to beings on other planes of reality.
That brought up more questions, but I had others I needed to ask first. “Jake, can we trust Croatoan?”
Jake shrugged. Croatoan was instrumental in helping us last time. He was the one who alerted us to Sakave’s approaching forces. He personally killed five nirrin warriors, which was no small feat. And the wights he raised… Jake trailed off. Well, let’s just say those undead helped even the odds. If he hadn’t been there, I believe that things would have ended very differently.
Another question occurred to me. “Jake, when you spoke this afternoon, it rattled Xavier. Like, physically rattled him. What happened there?”
Jake’s lips compressed, then he shrugged. In for a pound, he said. My father animated me using an alchemical formula he called the breath of life. It’s what lets me look and move like a human, rather than, well, a skeleton of gears and cogs. The breath of life is a powerful force, and when I speak, that power is released. It is a force of creation all its own. When I speak, what I say has terrible power. Just the word ‘no’ can change a person’s entire course of action, or physically injure them.
I only have so much breath in me, and if I run out, I’ll stop. Just shut off. My body generates a small amount each day, enough to keep me functional, and I don’t use much if I don’t speak. Cynthia’s reality field also generates a tiny amount of breath for me each year, which is what lets me be the stunning conversationalist that I am now. I can manage thirty or forty words a year. Jake grinned as he sent that last.
“Wow, it doesn’t go very far, does it?” I asked.
Until Cynthia was born, I didn’t have any other sources of it. Being able to speak even a handful of words is most gratifying.
“And now we all have to go into the Bridgewater Triangle so Cynthia can square off against Sakave again. Jake, is she up for something like that?”
The big man considered. She has to be. It’s literally what she was made for. So long as we can get her to the weak spot in reality, she can reinforce the barrier between our world and Sakave.
“Oh, hey, one last thing. You said you fought upyr in Russia. A new clan of vamps calling themselves upyr just moved into the city, and Megan told me they act really old school. Any chance they might be connected?”
It’s unlikely, Jake said, but not impossible. Just the same, once we have dealt with Sakave, I will look into what Megan has encountered.
With that, he led me back into the living room, where Cynthia was slowly turning a page. I pulled out the metal detector that Mr. Albert had given me. A ghostly compass needle appeared on its surface and pointed straight at Cynthia. I slid open the tray on the side of the device that contained the celestial metal and dropped it into my palm. A hair’s breadth of elemental fire cut the metal splinter in two, and I telekinetically offered one of them to Cynthia.
“I know this isn’t
much,” I said to her, “but I’m hoping it will help.”
It took her nearly fifteen seconds to move her arm and open her hand so I could drop the splinter onto her palm. When it touched her skin, her palm rippled like when you throw a stone into a pond, and her eyes flickered. The gears in her head sped up again, and this time when they downshifted, the sound was smooth.
“Thank you, Vincent,” she said. Was it me, or did her voice have less of the synthesizer effect?
“You’re welcome,” I said. “How’s the new book?”
“The main character likes to read,” she said. “And she is small for her age. So she is relatable in that respect. Her home life seems unpleasant, though. I will require more time with the book to form a complete opinion.”
“I think you’ll like it,” I said. “It turns out there’s a lot more to Matilda than meets the eye. Kind of reminds me of you, actually. You’re small, and you like to read, but you’re one of a kind and can do things no one else can.”
The gears in her head whirred as she turned to Jake. “Jacob, could Vincent visit again? I think he would be an interesting conversationalist.”
Jake smiled. Of course, he sent.
I smiled back at both of them. “I need to head out now, Cynthia. But I’ll be seeing you around.”
Jake led me back to the elevator and keyed in a code to take me back to the lobby. Thank you for treating her like a person, Vincent, Jake sent. So many other agents over the years, even the ones I thought would be open-minded, looked at her like a freakish little robot. That, or they were obsessed with how she worked and saw her as a specimen.
“The agents here now would accept her, Jake,” I said.
He smiled. Galahad says the same thing. Perhaps I should make an effort to introduce her to more people.
“Whatever you decide, I’m happy to come back and visit,” I said.
Thank you again, Vincent. I need to prepare Cynthia for what is coming. Jake turned and went back to his chambers.
I checked my watch. Just after two. This had been a full day already, and there was, as always, still more work to do. Given both Herb’s and Cynthia’s situations, finding a new source of celestial metal had moved up on my priority list. The little device that Mr. Albert had given me was a good start, but I couldn’t just randomly wander the world or other realms hoping I’d get a ping. No, I’d need to get clever, and when you needed something clever with devices, there was only one person to go to. Or rather, one gremlin.
Chapter 3
Sakave’s trying to break back into this realm. Been a while since he’s tried that. My mental link with his nirrin still works, though, as they contacted me as soon as they regained consciousness. Going to meet with his emissary here to see what I can do to help him along. Who knows, if he succeeds in taking over this plane, he might go after the Chroniclers next, and finally get the Tempus off my back.
—From Treggen’s personal journal
I found Gearstripper in his workshop, the place a chaotic mess, as always. His latest project, a life-sized robot of Billy from the movie Gremlins sat in pieces on one of the workbenches. His plan was to cosplay as both Billy and Stripe so he could attend an upcoming comic convention. “How’s it coming, Gears?” I asked.
“Good, Vinnie, good,” Gears replied as he cut a strip of wire with his teeth. Standing at eighteen inches tall with neon-green skin and clad in dark blue coveralls, I can’t help but think of Gears as a Muppet gone horribly wrong. “I’m going to weld the skeleton together next, then start wiring up the servos. And then, once it’s done, I can finally meet Jewel Staite.” Gears looked longingly at the poster of Kaylee from Firefly that hung above his computer. Gears’s stomach rumbled and he grimaced. “Hmm. I wonder if I could talk Jake into getting me a cheeseburger or five.”
“Jake’s indisposed right now,” I said.
“Huh. Did he say when he’d be back?”
“You know Jake, Gears. He’s not one to talk much.”
“Yeah,” Gears said, “but you should hear him sing.”
“What?”
Over the next few minutes, Gears relayed a story about how he and Jake had rescued Santa Claus from Krampus the Christmas demon, and how Jake had sung a heart-tugging version of O Come All Ye Faithful when they’d succeeded.
“If this was any other line of work,” I said, “I wouldn’t believe you. You’re telling me you actually stopped time on Christmas Eve so you could rig up a weapon against Krampus?”
Gears’s oversized ears bobbed as he nodded. “Yep. Nik’s sleigh has a time drive. It’s how he gets to all the kids’ houses in a single night. He just jumps back in time five minutes every five minutes.”
I was amazed the Chroniclers would allow that. Then again, even an uptight asshole like the Tempus must have some Christmas spirit in him. “Okay, we’re off track,” I said.
“You’re right,” Gears replied. “If Jake’s unavailable, that means someone else needs to get me a cheeseburger. I nominate…” He looked around. “You.”
I snorted. “Fine, I’ll get you a cheeseburger, but only if you do something for me.” I produced the celestial metal detector and brought Gears up to speed.
Gears turned the device over in his tiny three-fingered hands. “Hmm. So, we’re looking for a way to boost its range, maybe give you more precise coordinates.” He pursed his lips. “Vinnie, I don’t know. If this thing were based exclusively on technology, I’d be all over it, but it’s using enchantments that I’m not familiar with. You need an artificer, not a tinkerer.”
“Guess I’ll need to call Thad, then,” I said, pulling out my phone.
“And my cheeseburger?”
I feigned indecision. “I don’t know, Gears. You didn’t actually help.”
“No, but I charge one cheeseburger for consulting fees.”
I laughed and went to McDonalds, where I picked up some cheeseburgers for Gears and a couple for myself, too. As I walked back to the office I phoned Thad.
“Vincent,” he said, replying to the caller ID, “Sweetie, how are you?”
“Peachy, Thad. Got a bit of a scenario I’d like to run by you.” I gave him the details of the celestial metal detector and the modifications I wanted made.
“I do love a challenge,” Thad said. “Bring the detector by and I’ll take a look.” After dropping off Gearstripper’s lunch, I portaled to the back room of Antiquated Treasures. Thad jumped out of his seat as I popped into being right in front of him.
Standing at over six feet tall, Thad’s so thin that I’ve often thought he’d disappear if he turned sideways. Then again, the neon orange dress shirt he was wearing wasn’t something you couldn’t notice. He took a few steps forward, his boat shoes scuffing on the bare concrete floor. “Since when can you do that?” he demanded. “And what happened to your hair?”
I absently rubbed at the silver at my temples. “Kobold alcohol-induced astral projection,” I said. “Gray hair is a side effect.”
“Right,” Thad said flatly. “And the portals?”
“Just learned how to do that a couple of days ago,” I said. “Neat, huh?”
“I’ll say, but you shouldn’t do that when you’re handling artifacts.”
“Why not?”
“Certain kinds of extradimensional energy can dispel the charge on an artifact,” Thad explained. “You take it through a gateway and poof, it’s out of power.”
“Like that diviner Miguel ordered a few months back,” I said. The late Miguel Gomez, a former co-worker, had procured an artifact from Thad that should have helped us track down some missing paranormals, but when I’d tried to use it, it had fizzled and died.
“Yes,” Thad replied. “Though I was never able to figure out why. It was delivered to me via mundane channels, but it certainly had the look of extr
adimensional discharge.”
“Okay, that just sounds raunchy.”
Thad jabbed me in the shoulder. “Grow up, will you? But the upshot is that it had the earmarks of having been exposed to extradimensional energy, when, best as I can tell, it hadn’t.”
“Do you think it might have happened because I touched it?”
Thad tipped his head to one side. “Let’s find out.” He opened his desk drawer and produced a glass sphere, about the size of a baseball. He tapped it twice with a fingertip, and the ball lit up with a warm yellow light and hovered a few inches above his palm. “Just a glow ball,” he said. “Nothing fancy, but it’ll go dark if you expose it to the wrong kind of extradimensional energy.” He held it out to me and I took it. The ball continued glowing cheerfully. I extended my other hand, Opened a portal on the surface of Thad’s desk, and placed the exit so it hovered a foot above my free hand. I dropped the glow ball through the portal, and when it dropped into my waiting palm, it was still glowing cheerfully.
“So if I’m not what did it, then what did?” I asked, returning the ball to Thad.
Thad shrugged. “It might’ve had a weak charge to begin with. But let’s focus on the metal detector you mentioned. Let me see it.” I handed the glass brick to him, and he looked it over. Thad produced a jeweler’s loupe from his breast pocket and fit it over his eye. Then he tapped the loupe, and the lens changed color from clear glass to blue.
“Hello,” he said. “Well now, this is rather clever. A scanning rune in the tray reads whatever’s atop it, and then there’s an enchantment on the exterior of the box that searches for matches in the surrounding area. Simple, but quite effective.”
“What’s the range on it, and can you make it bigger?”
Fractures Page 8
