Cultwick: The Science of Faith

by J. Stone

  He couldn’t ascertain whether the rat and its cage had been pulled back through this portal, because of the intense light pouring forth, so he had to take a chance and hope for the best. Mentally closing the window, Rowland waited as the light slowly dissipated and what had happened was revealed. There, sitting on the worktable, was the rat he’d previously sent through but its cage hadn’t survived the journey. The rodent looked rather bewildered by the trip but nonetheless healthy.

  The professor allowed himself a gleeful smile and a brief chuckle in his success. He had indeed harnessed a way of opening the gateway through dimensions in both directions. He still needed a way to locate Germ on the other side though. Otherwise, there was no telling what he might pull through. The professor grabbed the rat and placed him inside another cage that still remained within his plane of existence.

  Curious what all he could do with his newfound ability to interact with the Pocket, Rowland thought about simply seeing into the other side. He wondered if he might open a simple viewing into that dimension rather than a portal that could be traveled through. With this in mind, he once again raised his hand and focused the power of the gauntlet on such a task.

  Out in front of him, something began to come together. Taking the form of what looked somewhat like a glossy bubble, the images visible through it refracted and distorted, but regardless, Rowland was able to see through to the other side. The Pocket wasn’t quite what he had always imagined it to be. Everything seemed somehow fake through the lens he was projecting. Illustrated. Nevertheless, he set forth on his next task of locating Germ.

  One thing that immediately caught his attention, aside from the spectacular comets covering the sky above, was a pool of blood on the floor of the Pocket’s version of his lab. Following one direction of the blood smear, Rowland found himself at the entryway of the mansion and another, larger pool of blood. With no answer to be had there, he turned back to follow it in the other direction. This one led down to the basement through the stairs at the back of the house. Descending down them, he was right near Erynn’s workshop, and that was exactly where the blood continued to lead him.

  Walking in with his hand raised and the strange bubble hovering out in front of him, Rowland entered her work area. She was seated near the far wall, tinkering with one of her pistols, but when he joined her, Erynn looked up at him rather strangely.

  “What are you doing, Max?” she asked.

  “Obviously, I am trying to locate Germ,” Rowland replied.

  “Obviously,” she repeated, rolling her eyes.

  “And what’s that… thing?” Erynn asked nodding to the bubble window.

  “A view into the Pocket, of course,” he answered. “It will allow me to find Germ, so that I can return him here.”

  “I don’t even know why I ask these questions,” she said with a sigh. “But why are you looking in here?”

  “The blood trail,” he replied.

  Coming closer to him, Erynn peered through the portal and asked, “Why would there be a blood trail in there? I thought you always said that there wasn’t any death inside.”

  “Lack of death does not preclude the possibility of blood loss, my dear,” he said.

  “Are you saying that if something is in pain then it will never die?” she asked. “That it will just suffer forever?”

  “That is a possibility,” he coldly answered.

  “That’s horrible, Max,” she replied.

  Rowland nodded “Agreed, which is why I need to get Germ out of there sooner rather than later.”

  Following the blood trail and staring through the window, Rowland saw a series of cages lining the wall of Erynn’s workshop. Inside one cage was the creature that he had created previously inside the same tube that had birthed Germ. Something had grabbed it and dragged it to this custom made prison though. How cages could even exist in the world was confusing to him. His understanding was that only things that he sent into the Pocket would be inside. He and Brodie had built it to otherwise be a replica of the mansion, and there were certainly no cages like those he saw in his home. The creature itself was clearly still alive, as the rules of the Pocket demanded and looked to be in considerable distress. Putting it out of his mind, Rowland swiveled around the room, thinking that Germ might have suffered a similar fate of being imprisoned there. The bubble began to somewhat flicker and wane, but as he turned, Rowland could see the familiar rat huddled inside one of the cages.

  “There!” Rowland shouted. “I see him!”

  The professor rushed closer, but the image into the other world dissipated. During all the progress he had suddenly found himself having, he had not realized the intense headache that he had acquired. The pain was throbbing in his temples, pressing at the back of his eyes, and creeping down to his shoulders, as the control he had over the bubble vanished.

  “Can you get him out?” Erynn asked with great enthusiasm.

  “I shall try,” Rowland answered.

  Aiming the gauntlet up at where he had last seen Germ, Rowland focused his pain-addled mind on opening up another portal that would extract from the Pocket. The pressure on his head was too much, it turned out. He fell to his knees, as a small portal came into being and sputtered out of existence. Unfortunately, nothing came through as the mist cleared.

  Rushing to his side, Erynn asked, “Are you alright?”

  “I am fine,” he said, attempting to stand but failing. “I must help Germ.”

  “Just sit down for a minute,” she told him.

  “But he was inside a cage,” Rowland exclaimed. “I have to help him.”

  “That thing draws its power out of you,” Erynn replied, gesturing at the gauntlet. “You need to rest and gather your strength. It will kill you otherwise. When was the last time you got any sleep?”

  Thinking about it for a moment, the professor eventually answered, “What phase is the moon currently in?”

  “Max, if you’re judging your sleeping pattern by lunar cycles, I’m pretty sure you’re not getting enough sleep. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

  “But Germ…”

  “Germ can wait,” she interrupted. “I miss him too, but you won’t do anyone any good if you kill yourself trying to get him back.”

  Erynn helped Rowland to his feet, and escorted him to the second floor. He was reminded of how Germ had helped him to bed, when it was Erynn he was trying to save. Now that the reverse was true, she was doing the same as he had done. He realized that someone was always forced to take care of him, as he was too busy trying to help others. Erynn was right though. He was exhausted, both mentally and physically. The professor was asleep almost immediately after his head hit the pillow.

  Chapter 26. Vincent’s Bounty

  Vincent couldn’t imagine why the operative had let him and Cassie live. He didn’t question it though. Battered and bruised, they were at least able to walk away from the crash. They found a doctor who helped them get patched up without asking too many questions, and they had been trying to lie low ever since. Whatever her reason for keeping them alive had been, Vincent was certain that the operative was alone in deciding to spare them. If the empire truly wanted him dead, they would be sending more after him.

  Believing they could hide out in a quiet bar known as Clementine’s Cantina, Vincent and Cassie headed that way. The bar was a bit of an oasis for him in Cultwick. The bar served as a meet up location for bounty hunters and had postings for targets. Though, there was law in the city that could reliably catch any perpetrators, sometimes the criminals of the west would hide out in the city. Alternatively, sometimes the corpsmen and inspectors were just too busy or lazy to track down every last crook and thief. Over the years, he’d taken a few jobs that caused him to head into the city, though he had always preferred targets out west.

  He and Cassie entered the bar and sat down at a booth in the back that was situated next to a large pillar. He was exhausted from everything they’d been through since coming into Cultwick and
was in dire need of a rest. Waiting for a server to come by and get an order from them, Vincent’s eyes began to close, and he thought he might actually get some much needed sleep.

  “Vincent, look,” Cassie said in a hushed whisper, jarring him from his near slumber. Opening his eyes, he saw that she was staring straight over to the wall, where there were a series of bounty flyers.

  “Yeah, it’s a bounty hunter bar,” he replied only glancing over and then closing his eyes again.

  “No, look,” she repeated.

  “Hmm,” he said, turning his head again and looking at the wall. He finally caught what Cassie was so upset about. A large and recently printed poster had his and her picture on it. The flyer listed:

  WANTED

  Vincent Rourke and Cassandra Ellington

  DEAD OR ALIVE

  “Shit,” he groaned. Vincent looked around to see if anyone had noticed him or Cassie. No one appeared to have given them much attention, so he was cautiously optimistic that they could sneak out before anyone started to. “C’mon. Act natural, but we need to get outta here right quick.”

  “Yeah,” she replied, sliding out from the booth seat and standing.

  Their server finally arrived and asked, “What can I get you two?”

  “We’re actually just leaving,” Vincent answered.

  “Y’know, you look awfully familiar,” she said. “Have we met?”

  “Don’t think so,” he replied, trying to keep moving.

  She stepped in front of Vincent to stop him. “I know I know you…” She looked over at Cassie. “You both look familiar…” The realization dawned on her with a look of shock.

  “Don’t,” Vincent warned her.

  The server turned and ran the other way, shouting, “Bounty!” and pointing back at the pair of them.

  The bounty hunters spread throughout the room finally took notice of them. Given the exorbitant cash payout being offered for him and Cassie, it was no surprise that they all seemed to immediately recognize the pair. Vincent grabbed Cassie and pulled her down, taking cover behind the booth and pillar just as an onslaught of bullets was unleashed in their direction and intending to kill.

  Having lost one of his pistols in the attack by the operative, Vincent was left with only the powerful hand cannon for his mechanical arm to use. He drew it from the shoulder holster, and Cassie did the same with her pistol.

  Vincent was worried about their chances. There were bound to be some pretty good shooters in this lot. Cowering behind the booth wasn’t going to save them for long. He had to come up with something if they were to make it out of that bar. He had left almost all of his gadgets back in the hotel as well. One thing he still had was his eye patch. He flipped the settings to spot heat signatures and looked through the bar to see how many hunters were on the other side of the cover. He counted up to twenty before he stopped bothering to keep track.

  While he had been surveying the situation, one of the bounty hunters crept around the side of them and took a shot. Luckily, the bullet lodged inside the wood of the booth rather than either of them. Vincent quickly returned fire with his heavy pistol, knocking him back into a piano on the far wall. The case slammed shut on him, as he fell partway inside it. One less, but their odds were in no way improved.

  “What are we gonna do?” Cassie asked him.

  “Working on it,” he replied.

  Tracking the heat signatures, Vincent picked off a couple more that were trying to creep around on them. He simply didn’t have enough bullets to deal with everyone in the bar though. He looked around the room trying to find anything that might give him a better chance, but nothing good came to him. There was a back exit through the bar area, but to get to it, they would have to put themselves in the line of fire. He might be able to give Cassie some cover, while she ran for it, but that was the best he could come up with.

  “Just give yourself up!” one of the hunters shouted.

  The voice was familiar. The bounty hunter had to take a minute, but he soon placed it. “Gaston?” It was one of the men that had worked with his wife, Lucy, for years now. Vincent could only imagine that the other partner, Kirk, was there too. Whether Lucy was by their side was completely up in the air. He expected she might have moved on after the haul she made working for the confederacy.

  “That’s right, Vincent,” he yelled back. “Been wanting you dead for years. Now they’re finally gonna pay me for it.”

  “Probably gonna have to fight the others for it,” Vincent shouted. “Looks like you got some competition.” He peered through the cover of the pillar and the booth to try and find where Gaston was, waiting for him to respond.

  “I’ll gladly split--”

  Vincent raised and fired a shot at the target he best guessed was Gaston. He would have hit him too, but another hunter stood up to fire off a couple of bullets. The man that got in his way was knocked back, and Gaston was covered in his blood.

  “You son of a bitch!” the mercenary shouted.

  Vincent ducked back down and a hail of bullets assaulted their cover. Splintering wood, cushioning from the booth, and bits of metal scattered all over the place. Both he and Cassie tried to shield themselves as best they could, but things were not looking good for them.

  Over the gunfire, however, Vincent could hear Lucy’s voice shout, “That’s my husband, you bastards!”

  There was a momentary pause in the gunshots, and he couldn’t help but look over the booth to see Lucy standing there in the doorway defiantly. She held her brace of pistols, aimed out at the other bounty hunters and fired a series of shots at their group. Among those shot, were both her partners, Kirk and Gaston. She seemed to have no remorse, as she gunned down the men she’d worked with for years. After she had emptied both barrels, Lucy ran over towards Vincent and Cassie’s hiding spot to join them. Along the path to them, one of the other hunters bounced back up and aimed at Vincent’s wife.

  Raising his mechanical arm at the shooter, he tried to take him out before the man could fire on Lucy. He fired the bullet right into the man’s head, splattering its contents on a group of nearby hunters, but it had been too late. The other man had fired the shot. Lucy toppled forward, as the bullet pierced through her leg.

  “Cover me!” he told Cassie.

  His partner raised up and gave him some suppressing fire, while Vincent ran out and grabbed Lucy by the arm. He dragged her back behind the booth, and Cassie knelt down as well. He looked over his wife. He couldn’t help but admit that she looked good. That he missed her despite himself.

  Lucy took off her musty old top hat and ran a hand through her brown hair, brushing it back only to fall down toward her face once more. She still wore her usual brown jacket and even the tan bandana she always seemed to have was tied around her neck, though he couldn’t imagine it had much use in the city other than trying to avoid the smog. Slung low around her waist was her belt with a holster for one of her guns. Remembering how she tended to carry herself, he assumed she had a shoulder holster under her jacket for the other. Her jeans were faded, old, and beginning to wear at the knees. Lucy kicked off her boot in the leg she had been shot in and rolled up the hem of the jeans.

  Vincent tried to examine her wound, but Lucy pushed his hands away.

  “I’m fucking fine, jackass,” she said. Lucy pulled the bandana from her neck and wrapped it around the wound like it was nothing. Looking over, she continued, “Another woman, huh? Sounds like you.”

  Ignoring her, he asked, “What are you doing here?”

  “Supposed to be meeting those fucks Kirk and Gaston for a job,” she answered. “Guess I’ll need to fucking look elsewhere for means of employment now.”

  “Why are you helping me, Lucy?” he asked. “Not like you haven’t tried to kill me before yourself.”

  “Exactly. Fucking nobody but me gets to end you, honey,” Lucy informed him. “You’re mine.”

  “You always were such a sentimental,” he replied mockingly. “But here�
��s your chance. A bullet to my forehead. Save us all a lot of trouble.”

  “I’ve got to make you suffer a bit fucking longer, I think,” she said. “Now look, I’m not going anywhere with this bullet in my knee, but I can get you out of here at least.”

  “How’s that?” Vincent asked. “You bring along something that’ll clear the room?”

  “As a matter of fact…” she said. Lucy reached into a pocket in her jacket’s interior and pulled out a cylindrical can with a pin sticking out from it. The object was some kind of grenade.

  “What flavor is it?” he asked her.

  “Just smoke. But it should give you cover to get out the back way.”

  “And what? You just want I should leave you here?” Vincent asked.

  “Oh, don’t be so fucking melodramatic,” Lucy replied. “Not like this lot is going to kill me. I’m not worth a damn thing.”

  He didn’t like the idea, but he knew he wasn’t going to change his wife’s mind either. “You got an extra breather?” he asked her.

  Lucy pulled the small breathing device from another pocket and was about to hand it to Vincent, when she looked at Cassie and asked him, “This one worth it?”

  He paused for a moment before answering, “It’s not like that, but yeah.”

  Lucy let go of the breather, and Vincent handed it to Cassie. She slid the nozzle in her mouth, while Vincent grabbed and prepared his own from his jacket pocket.

  “Let’s go,” he told his partner.

  “You sure?” Cassie asked, momentarily removing the device.

  “Let’s go,” he sternly repeated.

  Lucy pulled the pin from the grenade and chunked it backward toward the other bounty hunters. Like a high pressure leak, smoke shot out from the canister, causing it to spin rapidly in circles and quickly filling the room with the grey gas. The bounty hunters began to cough and sputter, as the gunfire nearly ceased. Vincent raised up to verify the smoke would give them protection.

  “Move,” he told Cassie after seeing the smoke-filled room.