Chapter Seventeen — Mechaniacal
“I’m listening,” Isaac said, tapping his fingers against Shay’s sapphire saddle as he looked out at Mechaniacal’s tower. He didn’t have high hopes for whatever offer the tinker was about to present, but it seemed a good idea to at least listen. It was one thing to deal with the drones as some kind of faceless, persistent adversary, and another to have the direct attention of a supervillain. Another supervillain, given that Sarah had miraculously managed to bamboozle Blacktime with her illusions. Ones that he’d put every last bit of power into, true, but it still was her doing.
He was pretty sure that wouldn’t work for Mechaniacal. The little stunt with the crystalline entity had made it clear that the old tinker was on a completely different level. Blacktime was terrifying personally, but he didn’t have the power to wipe away a near sovereign level threat like it was nothing. At the same time, Mechanical wasn’t issuing personal threats or even implying something sinister.
Of course, Isaac wasn’t naïve enough to think that Mechaniacal actually had Isaac’s interests at heart. Just like everyone else, he wanted something, but at least talking about fixing problems was an improvement. Probably a purposeful choice, given how often the tinker or genius type supervillains played mind games in comics, but still more reasonable than anyone else he’d run into of late.
The only reason he was even entertaining the supervillain was that he absolutely did not want to be responsible for some sort of civil war in the Deep Kingdoms. Not that he owed Great King Zys anything, or Iy for that matter, but his attempt to stop the catastrophic violence had only gone halfway. He’d stopped anything from going too far for now, but he had to stick the landing if he wanted to avoid a terrible tragedy. If he wanted to rub it in Zys’s face he’d point out that this was why he’d been circumspect with his power.
“Honesty is the best policy,” Mechaniacal’s voice boomed out over the surroundings. “My devices have noticed a very interesting adjust of probability hereabouts! I assumed that was you, but I haven’t any evidence. I’m sure that the Great Kings would be very interested to know their decisions were not entirely of their own accord. Perhaps not so great for you, but it would let them discount the pause.”
Isaac grimaced. There was an implicit threat there, a stick to go with the carrot, that without someone to shield him he’d have to account directly to the Great Kings. Which he probably wouldn’t enjoy.
“Aren’t they listening?” Sarah asked, half-rhetorically. “I’d say he’s outed you already.”
“Probably so,” Isaac agreed. “Gratin? Do they understand human tongue?”
“Great Kings understand all tongues,” Gratin claimed. “One of the many gifts they have engineered for themselves.”
“Then they ought to know. Can you, I dunno, doublecheck with them so if I pull back this inertial investment they’re ready for it? Assuming they haven’t broken it already.” He knew they could, since he’d seen it before, but likely not if they didn’t realize what was going on.
“Gratin can do this!” The little lizard-man hopped from Lia’s mount and straight down off the branch. Strange, colored energies cloaked him as he dove downward and accelerated faster than sight, vanishing into the foliage.
“I take it, then, you are amenable to being my guest for a little bit?” Mechaniacal’s cheerful baritone echoed off the trees and hills of the wilderness.
“I would advise against it.” A new voice cut in, that of Administrator Ike. Isaac had only heard the precise, clipped tones in a few broadcasts, but there was no mistaking the amplified voice coming from Endymion’s mech. Of course, he could have guessed who it was by simple logic.
“Surely you have better judgement than to align yourself with a supervillain,” Ike continued. “And Star Central has need of your services regardless. Your role in the diplomatic relationship between the Five City Alliance is a delicate one, considering everything that has happened. Mister Miller can elaborate further.”
“It’s true, you’re of interest to them now,” James’s voice came next, and Sarah noticeably brightened as she heard her brother speak. “Important, considering what you can do.”
“Under the circumstances, it seems only reasonable that Star Central sponsor you properly,” Ike’s voice continued, as Isaac listened sourly. He didn’t much like having this kind of thing aired in the open, shouted across the interior of the Deep Kingdoms rather than discussed privately. But that was the situation, and as he’d been warned it was the ultimate outcome of trying to run from these people.
“Direct sponsorship would skip the usual process of becoming a superhero,” Lia muttered, which was genuinely helpful because Isaac just didn’t know these things. He’d stayed away from actual superhero circles, absorbing knowledge mostly through what was on the radio and in comics, which might or might not be accurate.
“—certain duties,” Ike was saying. “And of course you will have access to your friend Machine Head. Something that is difficult otherwise.”
“Oh, for—” Isaac growled. Trying to use Cayleb against him just felt dirty. A logical part of him knew that Ike was just telling the truth. The supers that stayed deep in Star Central’s protection weren’t really public figures, nor did they openly emerge too often. The tinkers, analysts, and – so it was rumored – clairvoyants and reality-benders stayed within the building, not needing to venture out for supplies or furnishings. Anything could be delivered if it wasn’t outright manufactured on site.
At the same time, it just felt like blackmail. Or coercion. Something to try and push him into signing on with Star Central — as if he were being given a test and had to select a multiple-choice question. Any uncertainty he had vanished in a snap, leaving a crystal clarity about what he was going to do.
“I’m not going to be a superhero. Or villain,” Isaac said, as Ike droned on. “I don’t want to be recruited. What I want is just to break outside of that whole idea. There’s plenty of things I can do without getting into super fights. Right now, the only way I can see to get there is to go with Mechaniacal.”
“For heaven’s sake, Director,” Mechaniacal chided, interrupting Ike mid-pitch. “Don’t try to trap the boy. You ought to know better — you supplied his file yourself! Sometimes you need a lighter touch.”
“You should probably go see James,” Isaac said, chewing his lip as he nudged Shay down from the tree. His raptor leapt off the branch with eager glee, bouncing downward toward the forest floor. Astoria followed, as did Lia’s mount, followed by Savage.
“Are you trying to get rid of me?” Sarah’s illusions were still in place, but something about her voice was just a shade too tight, so Isaac hastily raised his hands.
“No,” Isaac sighed. “I just don’t know if what I’m doing is a good idea. James definitely would want to see you, and I don’t want to get on his bad side. Or your mom’s. Since I plan to take Mechaniacal up on his offer…” Isaac gestured helplessly. It wasn’t just that he couldn’t ensure either of them were at all safe, it was also that he didn’t want to speak for Sarah and get her involved with a supervillain once again.
“Just knowing James is okay is enough for me,” Sarah said, waving her kiseru at him. “I’ll stick with you for this. Lia and Savage, though…” She looked at them significantly. “Lemme write a note for James.”
“Surely you can’t be serious,” Savage protested. “You trust Mechaniacal?”
“It’s more that I’d bet he doesn’t really care all that much about me,” Isaac said, waving at one of the hovering drones. “You saw what he did with that crystalline entity. It’s not like he needs to lock me up in the way that Star Central or Blacktime might want to. Or Zys already did.”
Savage grunted, a vocalization that went untranslated, and made an oddly human gesture of exasperation with his forelegs. Lia pursed her lips and cocked her head as she regarded Isaac, but said nothing. Sarah missed the byplay, scribbling away in one of her notebooks, braced against Astoria’s saddle.
“Okay,” she said, tearing off the sheet and folding it before holding it out to Savage. “If you could take this to James?” Nonplussed, one of Savage’s mechanical arms extended from a slot in his armor and plucked the folded paper from Sarah’s fingers. “Now, we can go,” she said to Isaac, offering him her hand. He took it with a wry smile, not entirely certain it was a good idea but glad to have her along anyway.
“Before we do anything, let me try this,” Isaac said, focusing on his power again. This time, he focused solely on his own ontological inertia, his own self. If he could almost become some other person when he’d done it with Ravdia, then surely it would grant some degree of protection from whatever trickery Mechaniacal had in mind. Or just some buffer against a silver tongue.
“Try what?” Sarah asked.
“Going to try and reinforce us in general. I’m not sure what it’ll help, but it shouldn’t hurt.” He hoped.
“Go ahead,” she said, and he went through the process again, making sure to do it for Sarah and not for Scheherazade. The last thing he wanted to do was leave her stuck in a newly-created super identity in case they got separated or something. He didn’t feel particularly different, but that was the point of reinforcing himself. The experimentation he’d done over the past week showed that he probably didn’t want to stay reinforced, since any changes he made had broader effects than he could predict, but he wasn’t going to take chances.
“Everything okay, Sarah?” He used her name to doublecheck he’d gotten the right target. “Gave us both a bit of a boost to hopefully keep us safe.”
“I feel fine,” she said, spinning her kiseru with one hand and flashing through a couple of different illusions, including her old goth Smokeshow guise for a moment before settling back on the more mature look, with the black and white robes and broad-brimmed hat.
“Then get ready, I’m going to wind back what I put into the fight. Or the lack of it, I guess,” Isaac warned, reaching for the ephemeral resistance he’d put into the standoff. The feedback was still barely there, but he was learning to interpret some things, at least. It helped that Mechaniacal’s proclamation had firmly tied him to what was happening, keeping him in metaphorical contact so he could use his power.
The atmosphere noticeably changed as the effective suppression of any tensions vanished, and a sudden burst of noise came from the mountain behind them as fire resumed from guns and artillery. A much louder rumble came from the distance where the two Great Kings lunged at each other, grappling in something that reminded Isaac of wrestling, but writ so large that each step and swivel crushed acres of jungle and sent tons of rock flying into the air. He winced, hoping that Gratin had gotten there in time and could smooth over any misunderstandings.
“Do you want me to undo your inertial changes before you go?” Isaac turned to Savage and Lia, since there was no telling how long it’d be until he could revert them to normal. On the other hand, neither of them were much inconvenienced by the merely physical changes and they’d certainly help in traversing the jungle between where they’d fetched up and Endymion’s enormous mech.
“I will retain them,” Lia said promptly, and while Isaac still couldn’t read the lunarian too well, something about it seemed a little suspicious. But maybe it was just the strain of the situation wearing on them all.
“Same,” Savage said, voice flat. “It makes things easier on me anyway.”
“Alright. If you’re listening, Mechaniacal, we’re headed your way,” Isaac said. He was all but certain the supervillain tinker was listening in, since his drones were still around.
“Splendid!” The baritone came from one of the nearby hovering orbs, rather than booming from the tower, which was a mercy. “You won’t regret it.”
“Yeah, I doubt that,” Isaac said under his breath, but he was figuring that if he managed to get back out, he’d at least have somewhere to go thanks to the Deep Kingdom diplomatic interest. James had made it clear that was a civilian project, and while Ike had more authority over supers, Isaac was pretty sure the civilian government would weigh in on Isaac’s side. Especially since he was sure Sarah’s mom would have no issue putting some extra pressure there — but only if he was free and clear to begin with. Possession being nine-tenths of the law, and all that.
“Savage, Lia, hopefully I’ll see you in a little bit,” he told them. He was fairly fond of the Brute Squad, and rather hoped that they wouldn’t run into so much trouble in the future. A fruitless wish, since they were supers and trouble always found supers, but at least back in Star City they’d be in familiar territory.
“Be safe,” Lia said, tapping her comm pin by way of reminder. Isaac figured it was unlikely they’d be close enough to use the comm pins, but if Mechaniacal returned to Star City, it was vaguely possible they’d be able to communicate.
“I’ll do my best,” Isaac said, and watched them head off with some degree of trepidation. He was pretty well used to running from the big powers at this point, but he couldn’t do that anymore. Strictly speaking, that might not be true; he bet he could disappear into Lou The Janitor and nobody would ever find him, but that would mean giving up on Sarah, on figuring out his power, and all of that.
He wasn’t the kind of person to do that any longer. Great King Zys, and for that matter Sarah, were right that he had to address things head on. To use his power and show that he wouldn’t be pushed around by others, though threading the needle between that and outright supervillainy might be difficult. He had to try, though, or else he’d lose everything he still had.
He patted Shay’s neck and sent his intentions through the psionic link, resulting in his riding raptor happily bolting through the dense jungle with Astoria and Sarah close behind. With the reduced inertia, they bounced through the tangle of road-sized roots and car-sized flowers with breakneck glee. For all the speed and rapid changes, it was a smooth ride. Either because he was more used to the saddle, or because he had been able to change the shape and texture of his seat now that he knew how. Or just because of the reduced inertia.
Shay might not have been a sports car, but running flat-out and with her crystaltech augments and wings to aid in maneuvering, she managed the mile and a bit to the skyscraper in under a minute. Astoria and Sarah were at their side the entire way, perfectly able to keep up with the bounding acrobatics. Isaac couldn’t help but imagine how much better Shay would be than a car in the dense traffic of downtown Star City, a brief bit of whimsy perhaps brought on by the sight of the industrial slab of building in front of them.
They came to a sudden halt at the sheer wall of flat metal, but they didn’t have to search for a door. With the hum of hydraulics and the clicking of gears, a portion of the building split open, seams appearing from nowhere as it folded backward and inward like some magician’s trick. It revealed a small, carpeted vestibule that looked strangely like the one in the ground floor of the Humbert Building where Sarah’s mom lived, along with an ornately decorated elevator. Inlaid gears under glass and silver plating made it look like something out a mad scientist’s lair — which, of course, it was.
“Welcome to my lair!” Mechaniacal’s jovial voice came from several speakers as they stepped over the threshold, bearing the odd tone of radio broadcasts from ages past. A certain flatness that seemed strangely appropriate for the almost vaudevillian nature of his exclamation.
“The belly of the beast,” Sarah muttered, shifting her kiseru from one side of her mouth to the other. Shay rumbled deep in her throat, sounding like a car revving as she pawed at the plush, completely out-of-place carpet curiously.
“I suppose the only way out is through,” Isaac said, half-familiar with what she was quoting. A cartoon series from ages ago, that had aired on public access when he was a kid. Sarah shot him a pleased smile that let him know he’d remembered correctly, and nudged Astoria toward the elevator. Shay kept pace, the door opening for the two of them with a distinctly mundane chime. By coincidence or, more likely, by design, it was more than large enough to fit them both atop their raptors, though Shay clearly wasn’t a fan of the enclosed space.
A lattice-grate door slid across the elevator before it started upward, tinny music playing through an overhead speaker that Isaac recognized after a moment as a muzak rendition of the old jazz song The Girl From The Sunken City. He almost laughed at the aggressively banal normalcy of the choice, as if they were in some old ‘870’s corporate block rather than the lair of a tinker inside the hollow earth.
“Mom hates this song,” Sarah confided in an undertone. “I think she banned it from all her offices.”
“It’s a little overdone,” Isaac agreed with a laugh, actually glad of the distraction as the lift clicked smoothly upward. “I think the hospital waiting room played it five times a day.”
“In Mom’s case, I think it was actually something to do with an ex? I never got the full story, but before she met Dad — whoops, tell you later.” The chime sounded again as the latticework slid back, revealing a large suite that wouldn’t have been out of place in the Humbert building. Long-pile blue carpet with matching furniture, silver décor, even paintings on the walls and sculptures in alcoves.
“Give me a moment.” Mechaniacal’s voice sounded from hidden speakers somewhere in the walls. “I hadn’t anticipated raptor mounts.” There was a clicking and whirring from one side of the suite as the walls folded back in a similar manner to the front entrance, exposing a glimpse of a dizzying array of interlocked gears and panels, springs and cogs, as an extra side-room appeared. Windows opened in the walls, a water trough extruded from the floor, and then finally a set of mechanical armatures extended with a thick roll of carpet and extended it across the floor.
“At least he’s a good host,” Isaac muttered, though the reminder that they were surrounded by a raw mass of machinery was a little bit disturbing. On the other hand, he was pretty sure that he could wreck its ability to move just by a little bit of inertial investment. It all looked fairly delicate. Then he shook his head, throwing away that entire chain of thought. The point was not to fight, but try and maneuver through in other ways. His ability to influence metaphysical things, up to maybe even the push and pull of an argument, was far more useful especially against a sovereign like Mechaniacal.
He hopped down off of Shay’s back, nudging her over toward the side area that Mechaniacal had made for them. Given that he could feel her intense interest in the carpeting, she didn’t protest too much before joining Astoria in prowling over and flopping like an enormous scaled cat. The sight made him wince in anticipation of the wings banging against the floor, but somehow the floating crystalline panels remained out of the way.
Exchanging glances with Sarah, he made his way over toward the blue-and-silver couch at the far end of the room, but felt too ill at ease to sit. Instead, the two of them silently regarded the odd pieces that Mechaniacal had used to decorate the room. They seemed to be landscapes and places that were not quite of this Earth, judging by the colors of the sky and the alien architectures or, in some cases, the sprawling ruins of landmarks he recognized. The Walter Tower, from the Southern Kingdoms, or Great Cherry Pier from the Isle of Leaves.
“If he’s not actually from another reality, he makes a really good pretense at it,” Sarah muttered, leaning forward to look at the details on one of the sculptures that seemed to be crafted by something other than human hands. A strange radiance seemed to cling to it, one that failed to illuminate anything else. “Mom would love this stuff. I bet it’s worth millions if it’s real.”
“Oh, it’s quite real, but not for sale.” Mechaniacal’s voice didn’t come from a speaker for once, as the man himself strode in through a door that hadn’t been there a moment ago. He was tall, thin, narrow of face and shoulder, dressed smartly in a dark three-piece suit complete with a vanity cane, and his dark grey eyes fairly sparkled with mischief. He could have been someone’s eccentric uncle, save for the faint air of menace that clung to him despite his jovial expression. “I’m glad you recognize the quality, though.”
“Mechaniacal,” Isaac said, as Sarah’s hand captured his once again. He squeezed it reassuringly as he regarded the villain. “I do wonder exactly why you’re interested in me, though. Blacktime I understand, he’s got a criminal empire to run.” He’d seen more than a few complaints about the lack of qualified personnel in the files he’d retrieved from Crash’s computer. Not that Isaac had any sympathy.
“I have found that honesty serves my purposes best,” Mechaniacal said, crossing to one of the plush armchairs and seating himself, gesturing to the couch with his cane to indicate they should follow suit. “My chief interest these days is preventing the spiral of world-ending problems, and I have a suspicion that you could become one, handled incorrectly.”
“That sounds more like a hero thing,” Isaac pointed out as he sat, finding the couch to be unreasonably comfortable, enough to distract him from the fact that Mechaniacal was worried about him somehow becoming a terrifying supervillain.
“Less than you’d think. Heroes are not immune to world-ending mistakes, after all, and I am rather more pragmatic than most heroes would be about such things. If that weren’t enough, I simply have too many inclinations toward approaches that benefit me.” Mechaniacal shook his head. “No, if heroes were like me, the world would fall into a life are-ending spiral.”
“Which you think I could cause,” Isaac said skeptically.
“It’s a matter of incentives.” Mechaniacal leaned back in the armchair, totally at ease. “Many supers don’t develop their powers in new ways because they are never put under the proper duress, with the proper incentives and the proper inspiration. But when pressured, people become desperate. Every action creates an opposite reaction, and a minor power can become a major one under pressure. According to your files, you have taken every effort to avoid being acquired by Star Central or by any of the gangs or, as we have seen today, Blacktime himself.” The supervillain paused his monologue, apparently inviting response.
“I don’t have any interest in what they do,” Isaac said at last. “I’ve tried the superheroing thing with Justice for Hire, and it just wasn’t for me. And I’m not much for villainy, either. With what I can do, I know that the major powers are going to want me to join them, if not outright need me to. I’ve only just started really working with the metaphysical, and by the time I get really good at it, I’m afraid they’ll see me as more of a threat than a resource.”
“Yes, exactly!” Mechaniacal exclaimed pointing at Isaac. “Treat someone like a threat, and they’ll become one. On the other hand, sometimes they are a threat. It’s a tricky balance.” He made a gesture with two hands, weighing things on an invisible scale. “Blacktime, for example, is a threat, but the more he is pressed the more dangerous he becomes. Glorybeam cancels him exactly, however, so I am very much interested in restoring her.”
“Yeah…” Isaac shifted uncomfortably, following where Mechaniacal was going. “It’s on my list. Apparently it was my power that, well, Greg used to make things permanent.” Isaac didn’t much like to think about Greg, but the circumstances forced it. “I’ve managed to undo it somewhat for Sarah, but she said it’s not the same as it was.” He glanced sideways at his girlfriend, not really wanting to speak for her, and she nodded confirmation.
“Some ways, it’s not back to what it was. Other ways, it’s better,” she said shortly, clearly uncomfortable.
“In life, it is not always possible to undo what has been done,” Mechaniacal agreed. “The power suppressor is a delicate piece of machinery, certainly never meant to be altered the way it was. I am hoping that I can independently derive what precisely was done if you assist with some very basic demonstrations of your talent. Note that I did not use the words experiment or study. For some reason people tend to get rather twitchy when those are invoked.”
“Can’t imagine why,” Isaac muttered, and for a moment he wondered why he was being so flippant. But then, he’d given himself an immense resistance to change by outside forces. Such as a supervillain’s imposing presence.
“It is a mystery,” Mechaniacal agreed with amusement, clearly unbothered by Isaac’s attitude. “I imagine that once we’re done, you’ll prefer to return to Star City, as well. The Deep Kingdoms are fine so far as they go, but they really aren’t for humans.”
“I think I’ve gotten all I can out of the Deep Kingdoms, yes,” Isaac agreed. “Though by the sounds of it I’ll have to come back anyway. The diplomacy stuff.”
“True, but I’ve always preferred to approach such things on my own terms.” Mechanical smiled, and it was more satisfied than happy. “I’ve never much liked trying to dance to someone else’s tune. Hypocritical, I know, but without establishing some degree of authority, then civilization would be merely an endless procession of vagaries.”
“Wait, you watch VillainS?” Sarah blurted. “I recognize that quote.” She trailed off at the end of her sentence as Mechaniacal’s gaze shifted to hers, but he merely inclined his head.
“It’s quite good,” he said, entirely willing to jump topics. “I actually knew the real Omega Gaze. The man was obsessed with sleight-of-hand, which is something they always leave out. I suppose doing party tricks doesn’t fit the image of a hard-bitten supervillain.” He flipped his hand, setting the topic aside. “We can binge the newest season later. For now, I merely wish for you to cooperate with a few exercises and hopefully I can get everything I need.”
“That sounds a lot simpler than I imagined,” Isaac said, eying Mechaniacal doubtfully. He talked a good game, but that meant nothing considering how much power the villain truly held. “What’s the catch?”
“Well, the main catch is you’ll be assisting the most dangerous supervillain in the world. I will allow myself that accolade,” Mechaniacal said, clearly pleased with himself. “You can’t trust those types, you know, and the heroes will not be happy. But I’m sure they’ll get over it.”
“And if I refuse?” Isaac asked, hating to do so but knowing he had to bring it up.
“I suspect you won’t,” Mechaniacal said. “I’m hardly asking much of you and you don’t strike me as the type to be recalcitrant for no reason. If you insist on it I could certainly let you loose in Star City, but I suspect without any means or plans to defend against the insistence of Blacktime or Star Central, you would regret such a decision.”
Isaac didn’t like it. He didn’t trust Mechaniacal, and the man had as much as said that he had ulterior motives, but at the same time there wasn’t anything intrinsically objectionable. It would, in fact, be best if something existed that could undo his powers outside his own self, should it ever be necessary. While he knew that there would be some price to pay eventually, for the moment Mechaniacal’s admittedly straightforward offer seemed perfectly reasonable.
“Alright,” he said. “I’ll help.”