Locksmith

by Nicholas Maes

  Lewis was walking down a corridor. The walls were lined with newspaper clippings. Ahead of him were two chained doors — behind them he could hear the splash of water — only the padlock was gone and they were starting to open. Someone called, “Lewis! Lewis!”

  Before he could answer, however, three armed figures burst out. “Don’t shoot!” he yelled. “I’m here for my father!”

  The figures only laughed and bore down on their triggers.

  Lewis awoke with a start. The sky was black and there was silence. For a moment he couldn’t place where he was until he felt Atara’s wings beating beside him. Feeling Lewis stir, the bat began cheeping.

  The Stranger yawned. “He says we’ve been asleep a long time. And we’re also getting close to the city.”

  By now the rest of the group was awake. Gazing ahead of them, they gasped and sat up straight. They were still twenty miles off, but the lights of New York City were impossible to miss. The illumination sprawled across the landscape like an enormous glowworm, soft and welcoming and full of possibilities. Strange to say, the city seemed vulnerable as the alien sped toward its centre, obedient to Grumpel’s beck and call.

  But where was the creature? Lewis scanned the darkness but couldn’t make much out. As he grew anxious, Atara cheeped beneath him.

  “He says not to worry,” the Stranger said. “He’s tracking our target.”

  “How? It’s way too dark to see.”

  “He’s using sonar,” Adelaide said. “He’s tracking it by sound, not sight.”

  “That’s right,” the Stranger agreed.

  “Eeek!” Atara added.

  Lewis squeezed the bat in thanks. They were now soaring above the city’s suburbs, passing cars and trucks and a slow-moving train. It was late at night, to judge by the traffic, and people were getting ready for bed. If they had known an alien was passing overhead, they might have been less … lackadaisical.

  A pang of dread struck Lewis. It was his fault the beast was visiting the city, and if buildings were damaged or people got killed, there would be no one else to blame except him. Sensing this serious turn in Lewis’s thoughts — bats were good at reading people — Atara wriggled and signalled his encouragement.

  The next hour would end this adventure, for better or worse.

  They streaked over water — the Hudson River. As bright and lively as the suburbs had been, they were nothing compared to the brilliance that now engulfed them. The creature and bats had been gradually descending, and by now they were just a thousand feet above the ground. Tower upon tower rose to embrace them, and the storefronts, streetlamps, and headlights on the streets, not to mention lights from the various buildings, had them all blinking and rubbing their eyes.

  Then there was an explosion of signs below — they were over Times Square. A snake of people exited a theatre. In the patrons’ anxiety to hail a cab, they failed to notice the “invaders.”

  The travellers’ bats grazed the Empire State Building. On its observation deck Lewis spied a guard with a metal flask in his hand. When the man looked up, their glances intersected. The guard’s jaw dropped, and he tossed his flask away, convinced the alcohol was making him woozy.

  They were following Broadway. The Flatiron Building passed in a flash, as well as Greenwich Village and Washington Square. Off to their left was the Brooklyn Bridge. Over to their right Ground Zero gaped, the site of the former World Trade Center, a hole in the city waiting to be filled. Ahead were Wall Street and the New York Stock Exchange.

  “It’s over by the river,” the Stranger said, translating the bats’ excited cheeping.

  “We’re nearing Grumpel’s headquarters,” Lewis said, “but how’s he going to hide the alien’s presence from the city?”

  “We’ll find out in a moment,” the Stranger told him. “We’re preparing to land.”

  The next thirty seconds passed in a blur. The bats were flying at breakneck speed, weaving between wires, billboards, and a thousand other obstacles. The bats’ passengers held on with all their strength.

  Lewis almost hooted — it was like riding the wildest of roller coasters. Near the tip of Manhattan, above Battery Park, he and the others had to shield their eyes as a carpet of lights flashed on without warning.

  The lights were set up on a warehouse roof, one that spanned three city blocks and that Lewis quickly recognized. They had left from here days earlier, though it seemed like years since they had last been in the city. In their absence the roof had been transformed. Besides the lights, huge panels had been erected that were high above the neighbouring buildings and concealed the roof’s activities from them. Its surface was crammed with uniformed workers and a line of miniature cranes. Over in a corner was a two-man helicopter. In the centre of the roof was a huge yellow G, which it was clear the alien was preparing to land on. It slowly lowered itself toward the roof, its wings fanning the air with such force that its backdraft caused the tarpaulins to wobble and almost tore a row of lights from their mountings.

  Grumpel and Elizabeth were present. They stood on a platform that would give them a view of the creature’s tail when it landed. The chemist held a device equipped with dials, buttons, and antennae. He watched as the beast flapped its wings one last time and touched down on the roof with its legs outstretched. A moment later it folded its wings, drew its head to its body, and didn’t move a muscle. Astonishingly, it again resembled a huge mound of earth.

  “Now what?” Todrus asked as the bats hovered above this scene.

  “We’ll land and talk to Grumpel,” Lewis said.

  “You don’t think we should try to ruin his plans?”

  “Not until he releases my father.”

  “But will he keep his promise?” Adelaide asked.

  “If he doesn’t free my father, we’ll think of something else. In the meantime …”

  Lewis tapped Atara. The bat plunged to the roof, with his family behind, and Lewis felt his stomach leap into his head. A moment later they braked within an inch of the roof’s surface. Lewis and his friends quickly dismounted in view of Grumpel and the army of henchmen. Before the guards could lift a finger, the bats barrelled off and settled on the panels thirty storeys above the proceedings. From here they could watch how matters developed.

  Until then the guards had been scurrying about and readying things for the creature’s landing. With the group’s appearance the bustle stopped. Grumpel himself was stunned, and the guards were taking their cue from him. For his part Lewis was steadying himself — he had been straddling Atara so long that his legs were stiff and wobbly.

  “Look who’s here,” Elizabeth sneered, fingering a Petriglobe gun.

  “Welcome!” Grumpel announced. “And congratulations on a job well done. I have to admit, I didn’t think you’d make it back.”

  “Well, we did,” Lewis said with his hands on his hips. “And now that we’re here, free my father like you promised.”

  Grumpel stared at him, then broke into laughter. It had been twelve years since he had cracked a smile, and another five since he had laughed outright. That explained why his chuckling had such a ghastly ring. “This is better than I’d hoped,” he wheezed. “It just so happens I’ll need a good locksmith in future, and that’s why our arrangement is going to continue. In other words, you Castormans aren’t going anywhere!”

  He motioned to a knot of workers wheeling a machine toward the creature’s tail. The device was equipped with a hose and nozzle attached to an oversize receptacle. It was exactly like a vacuum cleaner, only it was large enough to handle a fully grown adult.

  “That wasn’t the deal!” Lewis cried hotly. “You said you’d free my father!”

  “This isn’t fair!” the others also yelled. “You promised!”

  “Quiet!” Grumpel roared. “I’ll do as I please!”

  He signalled to a second group of workers. They approached the creature with a ladder in hand and a tool that looked like a circular saw. When the ladder was propped aga
inst the creature’s tail, a pair of workers climbed to the topmost rungs, balancing the heavy saw between them. A moment later the saw was on — the engine was silent but its blade spun viciously.

  Grumpel chuckled. “You have no idea how much power this alien will give me.”

  “We know all about the Alienus,” Lewis spat.

  “So you’ve figured it out, have you? Then you know I can bend the laws of chemistry to my will.”

  “And even conquer death,” Elizabeth chortled.

  Grumpel laughed again, a bit more maniacally this time. “That, too.”

  “In that case,” Lewis argued, “you can afford to release my father.”

  Instead of replying, Grumpel signalled to the workers with the saw, who touched the spinning blade to the creature’s tail. Instantly, it shrieked and stretched its head toward its rump — its neck was long enough to touch its rear with its snout — but Grumpel merely adjusted his controls. Forced to obey, the beast fell silent and nestled its head against its flank.

  “You’re hurting it!” the group cried out. “Leave it alone!”

  Grumpel sniffed. The workers had cut more than halfway around the tail and had traced an arc that was oozing yellow gel. When they were four-fifths around the base of the rump, they switched the saw off at a sign from Grumpel and descended the ladder.

  The creature rocked and groaned.

  Elizabeth waved to a third group of workers. They were seated in four mini-cranes, which they backed up to the tail, maintaining an eight-foot interval from one another. At the top of each crane was a long metal chain, which the drivers strapped to the length of tail before them. Once the chains were fastened, Elizabeth blew a whistle. The cranes rolled forward, causing the tail to pivot and twist away from the body like a door being opened on a well-oiled hinge.

  Again the alien reared its head as a hole was exposed at the start of its rump, a bleeding, gooey entrance that led straight into its vitals. With the flick of a switch Grumpel again stopped its squirming.

  Lewis studied the beast. Despite its size and frightening appearance, he pitied it greatly. It was alone, in pain, and had no one to protect it from the scheming chemist.

  “How awful,” Adelaide clucked from behind.

  “We’re almost there,” Grumpel announced, nodding at the team with the “vacuum cleaner.” “You’ll understand everything in just a minute.”

  The device was rolled to the creature’s rear. Stationing the machine at the start of its wound, two guards thrust the nozzle inside and explored its hollows. The alien was trembling so hard that the roof was shaking.

  “What do they think it’s hiding?” Alfonse whispered.

  “Not it,” Adelaide gasped, “but she. They’re looking for —”

  “Eggs!” Lewis cried.

  “That’s right,” Grumpel called from above. “This wretched beast has eggs inside her, and that’s the source of the Alienus. Better yet, I can plant more eggs in future and never have to worry that my supply will run out.”

  “And that’s where I come in,” Lewis said bitterly.

  “That’s where you come in,” Grumpel agreed. “You’ll repair your mother’s lock for me and open it again when yet another ‘chick’ is grown.”

  “We’ve got one, sir,” one of the guards with the nozzle announced. Lewis saw a silver orb emerge — it was six feet high and oval. The nozzle was about to suck it up.

  “Careful, you idiots!” Elizabeth cried. “We want that egg intact, remember!”

  The creature sensed her eggs were being stolen. She turned toward her gaping wound and moaned. Lewis felt sick with guilt. He desperately wanted to help the creature, to deliver her from Grumpel, but they were powerless.

  Or were they? As the beast writhed in agony, he spied the patch on her neck — the receiver that was channelling Grumpel’s signals to her brain. If the receiver was removed, the crazy chemist couldn’t control her, and the creature would be able to escape her captors. All he had to do was …

  “Todrus, Gibiwink,” he murmured to the frogs, “can you keep this crowd of salamanders busy? Especially the pair with the vacuum cleaner?”

  “Let us at them!” the frogs replied, hating to see the creature mistreated.

  “What about us?” Alfonse muttered. “I’m dying to teach those goons a lesson.”

  “Do whatever you can,” Lewis said. “Just wait for my signal.”

  Grumpel was pushing buttons again and forcing the creature to shy away from her wound. Her head was pointing forward and lay a hundred feet from Lewis. The guards, too, were back at work and about to suck the egg up with the nozzle. Grumpel and Elizabeth were eyeing them closely. In other words, it was now or never.

  “Go!” Lewis rasped, sprinting to the half-severed tail.

  There was a flurry of action. The frogs attacked the workers with the nozzle, while the Stranger and the Pangettis stormed the drivers on the cranes. For his part Lewis jumped onto the tail and climbed toward the creature’s back.

  “What are you up to?” Grumpel yelled. “You can’t possibly stop — hey! Hands off my extraction unit!”

  He was screaming at the frogs. Not only had they knocked several salamanders senseless, but Todrus had pushed the nozzle aside, while Gibiwink was rolling the egg into the creature, careful not to crack the shell.

  Alfonse’s group controlled three cranes.

  “Attack them!” Grumpel shouted.

  “With pleasure!” his daughter snarled, sliding down the platform and nodding to some guards, all of whom were armed with Petriglobe rifles.

  Lewis had reached the top of the creature’s tail, which ended abruptly at the start of her rump. There was a gap in front of him and a hideous drop — he might have been poised on the ledge of a building. Focusing all his energy, he jumped. He didn’t quite make it to the other side but managed to latch onto the top of her backside. After dangling for several seconds, he pulled himself up.

  He glanced down. The Pangettis were spinning the cranes in circles and bowling crowds of salamanders over. And the Stranger was ramming guards by the dozen.

  Plop. A yellow cloud erupted — it was a Petriglobe. Charging forward, he mounted the first crest and barrelled down its far side at breakneck speed.

  Plop! Plop! Two salamanders had him in their sights. One Petriglobe fell wide, while the other grazed — and froze — his ear. Heavy thuds rang out, and the firing stopped.

  “Keep going!” Todrus yelled, with the marksmen lying unconscious before him.

  Lewis rushed the second mound. He was panting heavily, and his legs were numb. He kept ducking, too, to avoid being hit. Ten feet to the top, five, three, one. There, he had cleared it. All he had to do was … No! In front of him stood a welcoming committee.

  “Hello, boyo,” the limousine driver called out at the head of a dozen guards. They had climbed the front of the creature to head him off. “Nice of yuhs tuh make it. Stick ’em up!”

  Lewis balled his fists in frustration. Behind the salamanders was the alien’s neck and, more important, the patch he was after.

  “I said stick ’em up!” the driver growled. With no choice in the matter Lewis slowly raised his arms.

  The bats appeared with the fury of a whirlwind. One moment Lewis was in the line of fire, the next the salamanders had been knocked out cold. Biff, biff, boff, the path was clear.

  The patch. Lewis ran five paces and pitched himself forward.

  Time seemed to slow. Petriglobes were exploding everywhere — Elizabeth’s crew was firing from below. Lewis was the intended target, but the bats caught the pellets and were frozen in his place. For his part, Lewis went hurtling through the air until he wound up colliding with the creature’s neck. Because its neck was satin smooth, he began sliding earthward and scrabbled madly to brake his fall. At the very last moment his nails caught hold of something. His fingers were nearly yanked from his palms, but he held on to the edge of this surface.

  He was hanging from the lip of the
receiver!

  Six feet long and six feet wide, it was soft to the touch and felt like skin. That made sense, he realized quickly, because this patch had expanded as the creature had grown. The material, too, was very strong. It wasn’t much thicker than a piece of cardboard, yet was managing to hold Lewis aloft. It had been glued to the creature’s side, however, and the adhesive was weakening beneath his weight. With a few brisk tugs …

  “Well, well, what have we here?”

  Elizabeth! She was standing in front of a crowd of henchmen some fifteen yards below. While some were pointing their rifles at Lewis, others were guarding the rest of the group. Alfonse’s and Adelaide’s hands were raised, four guards were pinning the frogs’ flippers behind them, and the Stranger’s tentacles were confined to its sides. And the bats were scattered all over the place, frozen in shells of orange, pink, and yellow.

  The patch was starting to peel away from the creature.

  “Get a ladder!” Adelaide cried. “Before he falls and hurts himself!”

  “We’ll save him,” Elizabeth sneered, “as soon as he agrees to work for us.”

  “I’ll never join you!” Lewis yelled. He swung his legs wildly to help the patch along. Six inches of it were dangling loose.

  “Only an idiot doesn’t know when he’s been beaten!” she cried.

  “Better an idiot than a thug!” Lewis gasped. A foot of the patch had peeled itself free.

  “I’ll give you one more chance!” she said. “Are you with us or against us?”

  “I’d rather be dead than work for you!” Lewis retorted, using the last of his strength to loosen the patch further.

  “Have it your way!” Elizabeth shrugged, lifted her rifle, and squeezed the trigger.

  Several things happened at once: Adelaide and the others screamed; Atara, who had been lying in wait, flew beside Lewis and intercepted the pellet; and the patch came away all at once, so that Lewis and Atara plunged earthward together. While the bat landed on a knot of henchmen, Lewis struck Elizabeth, who crumpled beneath him.

  “Get that boy!” Grumpel roared. “Riddle him with Petriglobes!”