17
Osbert and the Psychlotron
“I hope they catch that little punk,” Nuncio said as he kicked the door of his cell. “After I watched out for him too.”
“That smells, like, so grody,” Jennifer said, eying the puke pile on the floor. “Nuncio, quit whining and make us some rad laser mop handle. I’ll make the mop head, comprende?”
“Check it out,” Axle said, as he approached the bars between his and Nuncio’s cells. “You guys should use your powers together. Nuncio can change gadgets into other gadgets. Jenn, you can make clothes do all kinds of things. What if you meet up somewhere in the middle?”
Nuncio grabbed two iron bars separating him from his cousin. “What the heck? Let’s both think of something real soft. How ‘bout it, cuz?”
Jennifer nodded as she grabbed the bars, placing her hands over Nuncio’s. They closed their eyes. The black metal shook, twisting in the air, breaking apart into tesseracts that linked together like fourth-dimensional chain mail. They collapsed in on themselves, growing brittle and rusted. Metal turned to dust then drifted to the floor like embers from a kiln.
“Holy crap,” Nuncio said, slipping between the new opening into his cousin’s cell.
“See? I got brains like trains,” Axle said. “Here’s another idea: try the locks this time.” Jennifer and Nuncio dissolved the lock in a similar manner then did the same to Axle’s cell.
Footsteps out in the hallway. Hot John swung the door open, dropping a small table by the door. When he noticed the children outside their cages, he ran at them swinging.
Axle pulled his hand back to zap Hot John with a bolt, but the big bruiser picked up Nuncio before he could get a clear shot.
“Uh, you kids better get back in your cells or else Osbert is gonna be real mad,” Hot John said, ticking his head toward the door. “I bet he’d make me take it out on your runt pal here.”
Jennifer and Axle did as the man asked. Hot John set Nuncio on the ground while keeping a tight grip on the boy’s wrist. “Ya’ better not try nothing, electric boy. You zap me, this one’s gonna feel it too.”
“You let him go,” Mr. Horum said. He chucked his shoe through the bars at Hot John, who smacked it out of the air. “What sort of man threatens kids, hmmb?”
“You got it all wrong. I like kids,” Hot John said as he smiled at Nuncio. “Same reason I like ladybugs. They crunch when you squish ‘em.”
Hot John twisted Nuncio’s wrist. A sickening crack as the joint fractured. Nuncio screamed. Hot John laughed.
Mr. Horum spat at Hot John. “You… you bad, bad man. You wait. Bad things you do come back to you one day.”
“What in Andrus’s name is going on here, Jonathan?” Osbert said. He stomped into the room, putting a tray with four long syringes on the table near the door. “Where’s the little one?”
Hot John looked around then pointed at Nuncio.
“No, no. The little blond boy you brought in with him.”
Hot John furrowed his brow, doing his best to come up with a thought on the controversy. After a moment, Osbert sighed and left John to his thinking while he prepared the first syringe. He flicked the juice off the end of the needle then knelt down next to Nuncio.
“Nah, man. You ain’t sticking that in me,” Nuncio said, wincing as he pulled away from Hot John’s hold.
Osbert took off his glasses, staring down the boy. He grabbed his arm, laid it flat against the ground, then flicked the inner part of the boy’s elbow to find a vein.
“Yo, that hurts like hell, man. Quit it,” Nuncio said. He kicked his legs around until Hot John stepped on them.
“You might want to look away,” Osbert said, then did the thing. A small drop of blood slid down Nuncio’s arm.
“Yo, you forgot the Band-Aid,” Nuncio said. He chuckled as his head hit the ground. The snoring started, but his milky eyes stayed wide open.
Osbert tossed the used syringe across the room and retrieved the next one from the tray. “Don’t worry, children,” he said. “Nobody will perish before I’ve extracted your powers. Jonathan, the next child please.”
Jonathan balanced Nuncio on his shoulder when he entered Axle’s cell. He grabbed Axle by his belt, hoisted him over his head, then carried him to Osbert like a server bringing the appetizers.
“You better hope this crap works,” Axle said.
Osbert (that squat, sniveling turtle of a man) giggled then took Axle’s arm in his hand. “Take your medicine, child. We have a lot of work to do before morning.”
Jennifer sagged against her bonds on the wall across from him. Was she breathing? He couldn’t tell. Nuncio was to his right, his head rolling around on his neck in a figure eight.
A door built into the curved wall creaked open. Hot John carried Jesse through then started tying him up across from Nuncio. The boy was more alert than Axle and his friends so he fought as John pulled the coarse hemp rope tight against his chest then wound it around the metal hook in the wall.
“Jonathan, can you double check the Osbextractor? Make sure it’s secure?” said Osbert over the intercom. Axle rolled his eyes up to see their rotund captor looking down from a small metal catwalk that poked out over the lower room.
Hot John tightened a bolt holding a plastic drum to the floor in the middle of the room. A prism mounted on top cast a rainbow flare across his face when the sign lit up.
“Let’s give it a quick spin at its customary speed,” Osbert said, turning a dial on the control panel. Hot John stepped back against the wall as the room spun round and round, faster and faster until anything outside the room became colored swirls streaking past them. A buzzer sounded. The room shook as the finished floor fell six feet into the ground.
The centrifugal force pulled them against the wall. Hot John pulled up his legs then twisted his body forty-five degrees and pretended he was sleeping.
The room shook again. The hydraulics screamed as the floor rose up to its original position. The spinning slowed until the room came to a full stop.
“That thing’ll spin the guts right out of you,” Hot John said as he wobbled around on his toned jelly legs. He tottered over toward the door. Jesse reached out, grabbing Hot John’s shirt as he passed.
“Please, mister,” he said, his face greenish and droopy. “I can’t go again. I’ll be sick.”
Hot John pulled away from the boy, inspecting his shirt for smudges. “Long as Osbert gets that gunk he wants, I don’t think he cares if you make a mess of the place. What was that stuff called again?”
“Humors, Jonathan,” Osbert said. “These children all have perfectly balanced humors. Those are what activated the device I gave you to track Dogboy. My Osbextractor will remove the humors then infuse them into the distilled water in the drum. From there I should be able to develop a serum to give us the same supernatural abilities as these whelps. Can you imagine? The Guild imbued with the power of gods.”
Hot John joined Osbert on the platform as he examined the control panel.
“Did you disable the voltage limiter like I asked?” Osbert said. Hot John nodded. “Excellent. With any luck, this rickety old amusement will hold together long enough to complete the process.”
Osbert pressed the big red button again. The room went from still to violent spinning in a second. The vertebrae in Axle’s neck stretched and cracked as it whipped around.
“We’re at two hundred rotations per minute, Osbert screamed over the ride’s rumble. “Now, Jonathan. Send current into the Osbextrator now.”
Hot John turned a dial on the wall. The plastic tub in the middle sparked, lightning crackling out through the prism. The room rocked back and forth like a washing machine with an unbalanced load. The metal walls screamed when they banged against the concrete foundation around them.
“Slow it down or it’s gonna break,” Hot John said. He ducked behind the control panel.
“Let it,” Osbert said, turning the dial up even farther. “We can’t stop until we’ve got what we need. We’ll bring this whole park down if we have to.”
“Like heck you will,” Zeph said, suddenly standing on the platform behind them. He pressed the emergency shut off on the wall. The room below rasped to a stop. “I don’t care how helpful you fellas been. This horse pucky stops right now, ya’ here? Shoot. Ain’t like your plan’ll work anyhow.”
“Oh, dear me,” Osbert said, wringing his hands raw. “You’ve misunderstood, with all due respect. I was engaging in a bit of hyperbole to motivate my companion. We’re running some stress tests on the equipment in advance of tomorrow’s grand opening.”
“Quit your yapping, fancy pants,” Zeph said. He smacked Osbert across the side of his head. “I know what yous pulling with these kids, and it don’t make me happy. Best I put a stop to it afore you do more harm than you mean to.”
Osbert rubbed his bruised ear, locking eyes with the old hillbilly. “I’m sorry to hear that, Zeph, but I can’t let you stop us. Jonathan?”
Hot John jumped at Zeph, his mallet hand pulled back to strike. Zeph smashed his mop into the ground. White energy wave exploded out across the ground, lapping over itself like waves on a choppy sea until it reached the bruiser’s feet. He let out a cry like an agitated bear. The wave exploded, sending Hot John flying off the platform.
Zeph waved his mop around like a staff, forcing Osbert back against the railing. “I call upon the powers of the land of Nod in the midnight hour. Open wide your walls and damn these varmints what tried to betray your servant.”
Osbert blanched, falling down to his knees. “What are you?” he screamed. Dark smoke swirled around Zeph, forming a black mountainous cloud that lifted him off the ground.
“Reckon I’m nothing but an old swamp witch. The kind you ain’t meant to make angry. What you done to these kids… the filth you brung to my park… I’m powerful angry.” Zeph jabbed the mop head at Osbert. The gray cotton strings glowed red, as did the old man’s eyes.
“Please. You’ve no idea what we’ve been through,” Osbert said, clasping his hands together and offering them to the man floating above him. “What I did, I did for Andrus. I am a loyal servant to Andrus, but without him I’m all but rudderless. I can serve any master. Let me serve you instead.”
The red light in Zeph’s eyes faded, the dark cloud dissipated, and he alighted on the ground. “The Koledari’s voices is talking. They’s telling me you aim to capture that Dogboy fella. Been waiting on him since I was heel-high to a horny toad. You catch ‘im and I figure we’ll be square. But don’t hurt ‘im none. I got plans for that boy.”
“Thank you, sir,” Osbert said, standing to shake Zeph’s hand. “You and these— Koledari? You shan’t regret it.”
A blue beam reached out from the mop head, hitting Osbert in the chest. He froze where he stood, still as a statue. The color drained out of him then from the world around him.
“You’re right about that,” Zeph said. “I aim to make sure you fellas do what I say when I say it without spouting off about humors and the like. I’m gonna let ya’ go and round up all your men. Bring ‘em over to Carnival Town. We got lots of training to do if’n we means to open the front gates tomorrow morning. Do it quick and I won’t do to you what I’m fixing to do to them.”
A blue flash, and Osbert stood alone on the platform. Axle watched him as he scurried away.
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