The Final Gambit

by Christopher Healy

  “So you were looking for us while we were looking for you?” Molly said. “Why didn’t you try to send us a message or something?”

  “Who do you think put that article in the paper about Forrest?” Nellie said. “I tried putting all sorts of hidden messages into news articles. Most of them were just trying to let you know I was alive, but I realized that even if you saw those, you’d have no way of responding or finding me. So I decided to put something out there that would draw you to Rector, knowing that if you found Rector, you’d also find me. I knew there’d be a risk of you getting captured, but I also knew I’d be here to get you out if that happened.”

  Molly beamed.

  “This is all quite interesting and I’ll adore reading more about it in a bestselling book someday,” said Josephine. “But right now, I think we’d all rather see you pull a key ring from one of those skirt pockets.”

  “Oh, I don’t have keys,” Nellie said.

  “That seems like a flaw in the escape plan,” said Cassandra.

  “There are no keys,” Nellie explained. “The locking mechanisms on these cells are electronically operated. They’re opened by flipping those switches on the wall in a specific pattern. That’s why he’s been calling his prison ‘unbreakoutable.’ Well, that and his disregard for the English language.”

  “All righty, then,” said Mary. “Get flipping!”

  “Oh, I don’t know the combination either,” said Nellie.

  “I stand by my previous comment about this escape plan,” said Cassandra.

  “But you have some way of opening these cells, right?” Molly said.

  “Of course,” said Nellie. “Go to it, Robot.”

  Robot leaned over and whispered to Nellie, “I do not know the combination either.”

  “No, you big goof,” Nellie said. “Use your magnet powers. Rip those bars open like you ripped open Bell’s ship.”

  “Oh. I see,” Robot said slowly. He raised his hands tentatively.

  “Robot, don’t!” Molly warned.

  “The bars are iron,” Nellie said. “They should be no trouble for—”

  “Nellie, you don’t understand,” Emmett said. “Robot can’t use any of his special powers. It eats away his Ambrosium every time he does.”

  “And he’s only got like a grain of rice’s worth left!” Molly added.

  Nellie winced. “I—oh, I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

  A solemn silence followed.

  “No one wants Robot to die,” Hertha finally said, but her disappointment was evident. “We’ll find another way out.”

  “I sincerely doubt that,” Rector said, throwing open the door. He, Grimsby, and Oogie MacDougal surged into the room. “I knew you’d turn on me eventually, Miss Bly. That’s why I’ve had Bumbles keeping tabs on you.”

  “You know, they know my true identity now,” said Grimsby. “You got no reason to keep callin’ me—”

  “Quiet, Bumbles!” Rector snapped. He returned his attention to Nellie, who slowly backed away while struggling to keep a brave face. “I’ve been aware of your treachery for quite some time, Miss Bly,” Rector continued. “Like the underpaid carnival worker who can’t afford a home of his own and needs to live in the house of mirrors, nothing happens behind my back without me knowing about it. Believe me, you would never have gotten that little piece about Forrest into the papers if it hadn’t suited my purposes and helped bring more of my enemies to me. And do you think you could have gotten that Morse code message out to Clark through my telegraph lines if I hadn’t allowed it? But I knew that, for these fools behind you, it would help further the idea that Rector and Edison were two different people, so I didn’t stop you. You’ve been working for me all along, Nellie, whether you knew it or not.”

  “Okay,” said Nellie. “But did you know that I secretly told Robot to play dead?”

  “No, that one’s on Bumbles,” said Rector.

  “Me?” blurted Grimsby. “Why is it my fault?”

  “Cuz yer a scabby auld walloper,” Oogie chuckled.

  “No, because you were supposed to be keeping an eye on Nellie, Bumbles,” Rector said. “Or is that what you just said, MacDougal? Doesn’t matter. But speaking of Robot . . .” He drew his Sizzle-Stick from a slot on his belt and handed it to Oogie. “Shut him down for real, won’t you?”

  Oogie grinned wickedly as sparks flickered from the tip of the metal rod.

  “No!” Molly screamed. “Robot, defend yourself!”

  Oogie raised the baton, but Robot caught his arm.

  “Let gae, ye boxy bampot!” Oogie snarled. But Robot twisted the gangster’s hand back upon itself. The Sizzle-Stick made contact with Oogie’s chest, shocking him. The gangster yowled and stumbled into Rector. More crackling sounds rippled through the air, and Rector howled in pain as well. Both men fell in a heap and the baton clattered to the ground.

  “Two down!” Molly cheered.

  Grimsby was the only villain left standing. He and Nellie both dove for the Sizzle-Stick, but the reporter’s hand scooped it up first. The white-haired henchman grinned awkwardly. “Ah. Yeah, so . . . I ain’t never ’ad nothin’ against you personally,” Grimsby said. “In point of fact, I, uh . . .” He dove for the door, but Robot slammed it shut in front of him.

  “I do not revel in violence,” Nellie said, closing in on her former captor. “But you—you nasty, garlic-reeking old git—you kept me locked in a stable until your boss showed up to offer me a job, so . . .” She jabbed the baton into his belly. He sizzled and fell.

  Nellie threw the stick down on the table and crouched by Oogie’s fallen body. “Robot, help me search him,” she said with urgency. “He’s got the switch positions written down—I’ve seen him check the paper while he—”

  Everybody in the cells started yelling.

  “Hush up,” Nellie said. “I’m going as fast as I can!”

  As Robot bent to search Oogie, an electric zapping sound echoed through the room, and the metal man toppled over, thumping across the unconscious gangster. Rector stood behind him with the Sizzle-Stick still smoking. “Acting!” the villain said with a flourish.

  Nellie stood. “Ah, good,” she said. “So, you know I was, uh, faking on these prisoners, right? Pretending to be a traitor to you so I could—”

  Zzzap!

  Nellie collapsed.

  “I’d say ‘good try,’” said Rector. “But honestly, it wasn’t very good.” The people in the cells stood in silent shock as the villain, whistling cheerily, began flicking a series of switches on the wall. “And to think MacDougal told me I was building too many cells. At least I think that’s what he told me. It was more like, ‘tae minny soles!’ So, who knows—maybe he was saying his boots were too small. Doesn’t matter. I’ve proven myself right yet again: it is always better to have more than not enough. That’s also true for appetizers at cocktail parties.” He continued flicking switches until the doors to two of the unused cells swung open. “See? Room for everybody.”

  23

  An Inescapable Dilemma

  THIS LATEST DEFEAT sucked all the life and energy from the room. All the manic attempts at lock-picking and intense searches for ways to dismantle their cells had come to an end. All the prisoners simply sat and stared. Not even Margaret was tinkering. Save for a brief moment of relief when Robot blinked back to consciousness again, the atmosphere was one of utter despair.

  “This is all my fault again, isn’t it?” Molly said eventually. She assumed it was almost morning, but there was no way of knowing in the windowless chamber. “Everyone was hiding out safely and happily. But I couldn’t leave well enough alone. And now look . . .”

  “If it’s your fault, then it’s my fault too,” said Emmett. After everything, he was still quick to jump to Molly’s defense. “You and I both decided to run off after Rector.”

  “As did I,” added Robot.

  “I appreciate the solidarity, guys,” Molly said. “But we all know that neither of you would
have done something as rash and risky as this on your own. I’m the bad influence.”

  “I do what I want,” Robot retorted.

  “And I’m perfectly capable of making my own terrible choices,” Emmett said. “Just ask my father.”

  “It’s true,” said Captain Lee. “Sometimes I think I wouldn’t even need Rector’s machine to melt my brain; all I need to do is listen to my boy tell me about the crazy things he has done. But I’ve made mistakes too, Emmett—things I thought were for the best, but which only served to drive a wedge between us.” He dabbed the corner of his eye. “In case we truly don’t have much time left, I want you to know that my deepest regret is not being there for you, to see you become the person you are today. What I have learned of you in the past year has astonished me and amazed me. You are brave and clever and loyal. You have accomplished things I would never have dreamed of attempting. Even when you make choices I don’t agree with, I can’t help but admire the reasons for which you make them. You listen to your brain and your heart. And most of the time, you even manage to figure out which is giving the better advice. It’s a remarkable talent. But I’ve never just come out and told you. So, before it’s too late: Emmett Lee, I am proud to be your father.”

  Emmett wiped his eye.

  “And I would like to add that as far as we’re concerned, the both of you, Emmett and Molly, have been tremendously good influences on us,” said Hertha. “The entire reason we got together as a group was to fight the establishment, to play against their rules and pave a more promising path for future inventors who might not be born into the privilege the Guildsmen enjoy. You two have repeatedly shown us that the future is worth fighting for.”

  “Hear, hear!” Sarah cheered, and the other members of the MOI nodded and applauded.

  Cassandra stood. “Well, Molls, I need no more inspiration than this.” She reached into the collar of her dress and pulled out her “World’s Greatest Inventor” pickle-lid medallion. Molly smiled. Then Cassandra flipped the medal over and held it out for Molly to read the new inscription she’d etched into the opposite side: “World’s Greatest Rector-Stopper.”

  Molly suddenly felt warm all over. That’s the despair melting away, she thought.

  Thomas Edison cleared his throat. “So, um, do Bell and I have to say something nice about the kids now? That seems to be what’s happening . . .”

  “Oh, uh . . . yes,” said Bell. “The children are . . . very . . . challenging. But that’s good, I suppose. Everyone needs to be challenged sometimes.”

  “Okay, people, I don’t know how much time we have, but probably not much,” Molly said, putting the men out of their misery. “So, let’s put our talented heads together and figure a way out of here.”

  Nellie pointed to the panel of switches by the door. “I don’t suppose any of you happened to see the switch pattern when Rector opened the cage to put me in?”

  Josephine shook her head. “The brute purposely stood in the way to block our view.”

  “And I believe each cell has a different combination anyway,” added Mary. “He clicked those switches twice—once for your cell and once for Robot’s.”

  “Well, there are only twelve switches and a limited number of up-and-down combinations to set them in,” said Sarah. “So, we should eventually be able to figure out at least one of the patterns. If we can free even one of us, that person could get out a call for help.”

  “Righto!” Cassandra said with excitement. “Let’s start with up-down-up—”

  “Excuse me, but aren’t we getting ahead of ourselves?” Bell asked. “Unless one of you can stretch your arm a good fifteen feet, we’ve no way to reach that panel.”

  “Robot can!” Emmett said.

  Robot extended his right arm between the bars and launched his hand at the panel. It flew through the air, punched at the switches, and then fell to the ground. He reeled it back in. “I do not suppose we can place a little pedestal in front of those switches, so my hand has someplace to sit while it does the flicking?”

  “I’m afraid not,” said Mary.

  “If I use my magnet powers—”

  “No.”

  “Molly’s cell is closest. What if we built a really long stick that could reach the switches from there?” Cassandra asked.

  “Build a stick out of what?” asked Edison.

  “Whatever we can find,” said Cassandra.

  “There’s nothing in these cells with us,” Edison continued. “Literally nothing.”

  “Except everything on our bodies,” said Hertha. “Cass, that’s a brilliant idea.”

  “Of course it is,” said Cassandra. “Ooh! Course it is . . . course it . . . corsets! Ladies, you know what to do!”

  Hertha smiled. “Gentlemen, put your jackets over your heads.”

  “What? Why?” grumped Edison.

  “Common decency,” Josephine scolded.

  “Just do it,” Captain Lee urged the other men. And when they all had their faces covered, Cassandra, Hertha, Josephine, and Mary began digging down into their underclothing to tear free the long stiff wires that gave shape to their corsets.

  “This is the first time I’ve ever been glad to be wearing one of these torture devices,” Mary said, ripping free a long strand of wire.

  “Society forces us to squeeze into these things,” said Hertha. “It’s about time we got something out of the deal.”

  Within a minute’s time, they had harvested several handfuls of sturdy, bendable wire. But just then, there was a click at the chamber door. The ladies quickly shoved the wire bits under their skirts. “What in my name is going on here?” Rector asked. He was dressed in his Thomas Edison disguise again.

  “Excuse us!” Josephine snapped as she and the others speedily rebuttoned their dresses. “Can we please have some privacy?”

  “No,” said Rector. “You’re my prisoners. Now, explain. What’s with the guys under the coats? Are they dead?”

  “Just showing some discretion while the ladies adjust their garments,” Captain Lee said from beneath his jacket.

  “Womenswear is not designed for lengthy imprisonments,” said Hertha.

  “Or anything, really,” added Molly.

  “Fine, pretty yourselves up for doomsday,” said Rector. “And men, stop playing ostrich. I’m about to go to the Washington Monument and I want all ears uncovered to hear the screaming.”

  “Hurry up and do what he says,” Molly urged, not because she wanted to obey the madman but because she was eager to get him out of the room so the women could assemble their switch-flipping pole.

  Captain Lee’s head turned back and forth between their captor and the real Edison. “The resemblance is uncanny,” he muttered.

  “There’s a reason he’s managed to fool us so many times,” said Emmett.

  “No shame in being tricked by the best,” Rector said proudly. “In fact, you should feel privileged. It’s not just any so-and-so who gets to be gulled by the greatest actor to have ever walked the face of the Earth.”

  “You are quite good,” said Cassandra. “Have you given any thought to, oh, I don’t know, returning to acting? Say, instead of violent conquest?”

  “Never,” said Rector. “Blame society; I’ve chosen the path that is far more socially acceptable.” As he fiddled with knobs on his big gray Empowernator box, his henchmen strolled into the room.

  “Morning, ye doaty dobbers,” Oogie said with a wicked grin as he menacingly twirled the gleaming Sizzle-Stick. Behind him, Grimsby grumbled something unintelligible.

  Rector cleared his throat and tapped the strange black egglike device that was now pinned to his lapel. “Testing, testing.” His voice came from both his mouth and the Empowernator’s speaker. “Perfect!” He smoothed the wrinkles on his coat and straightened his bow tie. “Well, ta-ta, nemeses! Enjoy the program. I hope you’re all adequately traumatized by the time I come back to kill you.” And with that, he left.

  Sighing, Grimsby shut the door a
nd sat in one of the rickety chairs by the wall. Oogie set the stun baton down on the table and took a seat next to the old man—directly in front of the cells’ control panel.

  “Bother beans.” Molly frowned. How were they supposed to break out with these two goons chaperoning them?

  Rector’s voice suddenly crackled through the Empowernator. “As you’ve probably noticed by now, I am not leaving you unattended. I learn from my mistakes. In fact, they’re the only things I learn from. No one else has anything to teach me that I don’t already know, so if I’m to learn anything else for the remainder of my life, I have to rely on myself to teach me. Ah, the perils of being a super-genius. Are you grousing and grumbling? I bet there’s all sorts of grousing going on right now. Drat, I should have made this a two-way talking and listening thingie.”

  “That’s called a telephone!” Bell cried. “I already invented it!”

  “But that would be too much like Alec’s silly telephonic whatsit,” Rector continued. “As if those are ever going to catch on. Am I right?”

  Edison chuckled. “Heh. Totally.”

  “Anyway, I can’t keep talking the entire trip,” Rector went on. “Well, I’m sure I could—but I won’t. I’ve got a country to take over. I will, however, be updating you from time to time. And, of course, you’ll hear when I start my speech at the ceremony. In the meantime, you will be properly supervised by those two fine fellows before you. Well, one fine fellow and one pungent scarecrow. Ta-ta!”

  Oogie glanced at Grimsby. “Ah’m the fine fella,” he said.

  Grimsby rolled his eyes.

  Molly’s mind was reeling. They might have collected enough wire to construct a reaching arm, but how could they put it together without being seen? And even if they could, there was now a criminal maniac sitting in front of the switches. Molly looked across the room to Emmett and made a flicking motion with her finger. Emmett shrugged. Running his fingers through his hair—a sure sign that he was devolving into panic—he began looking around the room. A bit too frantically.

  “Havin’ a fit there, boy?” Grimsby asked. “It’s best none of you try fakin’ any medical ailments. I seen enough of that pish-posh from captives in my day and I won’t be fallin’ for it.”