The Scarecrow of OZ (12 page)

She whistled, and a small black terrier dog came bounding into the room. It ignored Caleb and stopped right in front of the Southern Marshal, its tail wagging excitedly. She bent down, parted the fur along the back of his neck, and inspected the exposed section of skin. “Jack, switch your display to Toto 819-7532.”

“Yes ma’am,” Jack replied as he flipped several switches in front of him.

Caleb’s jaw dropped as the window showed himself standing in this very room. But it was not like when he looked in a mirror. The view on the window was of him, but from a different angle. He pointed a finger in the air and watched himself in the window as he slowly moved his hand around. He stopped his hand when he noticed he was pointing at himself from the window. He looked to where his hand was pointing, and his hair rose up along his back as he realized he was pointing right at the dog.

She smiled and placed the dog back on the floor. “Go on now. Shoo.”

The tiny dog skittered off and Caleb watched as the window on the table showed the room from the dog’s perspective as he ran out.

“Professor Gale called them tactical observers. Fully electric automatons that transmit everything they see back to these monitors. It was my idea to build them to look like household pets so they could blend in unnoticed all around OZ.

“Some of them were so indistinguishable from the real thing, using the name tactical observer just seemed so impersonal. The original builders start calling them Totos, and the name stuck.”

An unnerving thought suddenly struck Caleb.

“Did you get one of these into the casino?”

“You tell me?”

He thought back to a dog in particular who showed up one day when he was young. When he wasn’t looking directly at it, he always got the sense that it was watching him. He hadn’t really given it much thought at the time, but that dog outlived all the rest.

He glared at the Southern Marshal, the edge of his lip curling up in anger. “You spied on us? You spied on the hybrids?”

“Only to keep you safe until I could bring you home.”

“You snuck into our homes. Into our lives. You violated our privacy.”

“I was watching over you.”

“That makes it okay?!”

“Of course it was okay. I’m a hybrid, just like you.”

“You’re not like us!”

“Said the assassin who killed because his human master told him too.”

Caleb snapped his mouth shut and his temper boiled just below the surface. The Southern Marshal took a deep breath.

“I fear our conversation is getting off track. I did not show you this room to make you upset. I showed you so, when you leave here to collect the Brahmastra, you know you will not be alone. Even though I will not be with you physically, I will still be watching over you. I will keep you safe. I will keep Dorothy safe. And when the threat is over, I will keep my promise.”

He looked deep into her eyes and saw nothing but sincerity. His temper cooled to a low simmer. He didn’t dare let it dissipate completely or he might let his guard down. And if growing up in the hardest place in the world had taught him anything, it was to never let your guard down.

She turned back to the monitor station. “Show me Alpha Watch.”

“Yes ma’am.”

The monitor window shifted to show a dog’s point of view of a crowded marketplace. At the center of the view was a boy talking to a shop owner. When the boy finished talking to the owner, he moved on through the crowd and the dog followed him.

There was something very familiar about the boy, but so far Caleb had only seen the back of him. The boy pushed through the crowd without looking around, or glancing behind him. He acted as if he wasn’t worried about being followed, or most likely had no idea he was being followed. He stopped occasionally to talk with various shop owners as he made his way through the street market.

She tapped on the glass, indicating the boy. “Nero told us this is the boy who took the Brahmastra. I’ve had a Toto on him ever since we located him. We haven’t seen him with anything remotely like the large chest Nero described, but he’s pretty sure the boy knows where it is.”

The boy turned around and Caleb’s jaw slackened in recognition. He knew this kid, and his name escaped his lips before he could bite his tongue.

“Jasper.”

She tilted her head. “You know him?”

“More than I’d like to.”

“This will be even easier since you know him. Does he trust you?”

“To be honest, the last time we worked together, he had a hard time figuring out which side I was on. But in the end… Yes, I think he trusts me.”

“Excellent. We actually have the edge. Even though they took Nero, and given time, he will lead them to the boy, we don’t have to waste precious time looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack. We know exactly where the boy is right now. And we will know exactly where he is when you get there.”

“But they have a head start and will get there sooner. What if they find Jasper before we do?”

She indicated the hallway the little dog had run down.

“If you follow me, I can show you why that won’t matter.”

He let her lead him into another room where the Tin Man and Toto both stood against one wall. The Southern Marshall stopped in front of them.

“You’ve already seen what the Tin Man and Toto can do. Now let me show you what you can do.”

She opened a wardrobe and pointed to several pieces of an armored suit that hung from hooks inside the wardrobe.

“Another one of the Professor’s marvelous inventions. We currently have the two prototypes, but we should be able to iron out the final kinks and start ramping up for mass production within a year.”

Caleb stared at the two suits of armor in the wardrobe. Rather than being complete suits of armor, they were in individual pieces, designed to be strapped on to various parts of the body separately. A direct hit on the armor might provide some protection, but every joint would still be exposed. And he certainly didn’t like hearing that they might not have worked out all the problems yet.

“Is everything we’re using a prototype?”

She smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry. The Professor’s designs rarely fail.”

She grabbed the chest piece off of its hook and spun it around to show Caleb the back. Excitement gleamed in the corner of her eye as she pointed out the two vents on the bottom of the cylinders mounted to the back of the armor.

“This right here is the most amazing bit on this armor. These are jump assist jets. I don’t profess to understand what makes them work, but these will help you jump a good eighty to a hundred meters in a single bound. While that’s not quite flying, it’s pretty damn close.”

“Cats were not meant to fly.”

She pointed to a unit mounted between the two jets.

“This internal gyrostabilizer here guarantees you will always land on your feet.”

He was about to say something he probably would’ve regretted when a door opened and one of the her guards interrupted them.

“Excuse me, ma’am, but you asked me to inform you when she was ready.”

The Southern Marshal pushed the armor into Caleb’s hands while addressing her guard.

“Excellent. I will be right there.”

The guard bowed low and closed the door as he left. Caleb was still staring at the armored jet pack in his hands when the Southern Marshal pointed to the rest of the armor in the wardrobe.

“Put the armor on and be ready to leave in an hour.”

She rushed out of the room leaving him standing there, holding what had to be the most terrifying articles of protective clothing known to man, and animal alike. Toto growled quietly as the Tin Man turned to face Caleb. His modulated, metallic voice echoed from a speaker mounted on the front of his chest.

“Don’t just stand there, put it on.”

Caleb inspected the jet pack in his hands and looked up into the single amber eye of the Tin Man. It was like staring into the eye of some hideous metallic Cyclops, but he wasn’t going to let that deter him from pleading his case.

“I don’t think you fully understand the risk…”

With a whir of gears, the Tin Man pointed his mounted machine gun directly at Caleb. “Please.”

Reluctantly, Caleb donned the suit of armor. It was much lighter, and thinner, than he had expected. It was also a lot more flexible than he thought the armor should be. Even the helmet molded its shape to fit comfortably on his head. The suit covered most of him, but he did not feel protected. It was too light and flexible. He pressed on the chest plate with a finger and the armor depressed enough he could feel the pressure of his finger directly on his chest. What was this? The armor looked impressive from a distance, but this wasn’t even going to stop a rock thrown at him by a small child from leaving a bruise. “I’d be better off wearing a thick leather coat than this deceptive piece of pig excrement.”

The sound of gears whirring and metal crunching drew his eyes to the Tin Man who had stepped away from the wall, turned to face him, and pointed the large machine gun directly at his chest. He barely had time to raise his hands and protest when the Tin Man shot him.

The world around him slowed to a snail’s crawl as his brain went into overdrive. He had seen what a bullet from this gun could do to a man. The soldiers earlier had been nearly cut in half from the kinetic force unleashed by this terrible weapon. Now, a bullet from that same machine gun had slammed into him at full velocity before he had time to reflect on his past sins.

He was knocked off his feet and skidded across the room on his back until he collided with the far wall. If he hadn’t been wearing the helmet, his head would’ve cracked open upon impact.

He took a sudden breath of air, surprised he wasn’t dead. In fact, despite being knocked off his feet and hitting his head on the wall, he hadn’t really felt either impact. He must be in shock from the bullet ripping his heart and lungs to shreds. He realized he hadn’t felt the bullet pierce his body or his head crack into the wall.

He sat up; and found he could sit up. Not wanting to look, he quickly probed his chest and stomach area with a hand. Instead of feeling a gaping hole where his insides should be spilling out, his hand rubbed against the armor breastplate, and found it was still intact.

He glanced down, letting his eyes confirm that the bullet had not even left a scratch in the armor.

The Tin Man’s metallic voice echoed in the room. “Your armor is manufactured from a shear thickening material. The greater the force on the suit, the stronger it becomes. This material provides the maximum protection to the wearer, while still maintaining comfort and flexibility. Another brilliant invention from Professor Gale.”

Caleb started to stand up, and was in a half crouch, when the door burst open and guards flooded the room, drawn by the sound of gunfire. Some of them spotted Caleb against the far wall and pointed their rifles at him while shouting commands. He instinctively raised his hands and, at the same time, the Tin Man yelled, “No!”

The jets on his back erupted and he shot up into the air, slamming against the ceiling. Instead of falling back to the ground, the jets kept thrusting and dragged him across the ceiling until he smacked into the wall above the door; and the guards.

The jets cut out and he fell like a stone onto the stunned guards, scattering them in all directions. The guards were back on their feet just as quickly as he was and, in a panic, began firing at him. He was knocked around in what seemed like every direction at once under the barrage of gunfire, his body jerking uncontrollably.

A mechanical voice, amplified louder than the gunfire, shouted, “Cease fire!”

The guards stopped firing and Caleb collapsed forward to his hands and knees. By all rights, he should be dead. He leaned forward on his knees, unharmed, and vomited.

The Tin Man gripped Caleb’s arm in a three-fingered claw and lifted him to his feet. “The suit’s jet pack is activated by crouching and raising your arms above your head. I suggest waiting until you’re outside to do that again.”

Caleb wiped the bile from his lips. “I thought the whatzit rejiggering bopper in the suit was supposed to land me on my feet.”

“It’s physics, not magic. The room was too small to give the gyrostabilizer time to correct. Like I said, try that again outside and I’m sure you’ll have a much better experience.”

“What the devil happened in here?”

They turned to see the Southern Marshal gawking at the damage to the room. “I can’t leave you two alone for five minutes?”

The Tin Man stepped forward before anybody else could speak. “I was showing Caleb the properties of his new suit. Your guards were assisting me in demonstrating the suit’s anti-ballistics effectiveness.”

A piece of wall, damaged by the numerous rounds that had pelted it, took that precise moment to collapse to the floor in a cloud of dust. The Southern Marshal shook her head. “Next time, take it outside.”

She motioned to Caleb. “Come with me.”

The suit stiffened when he tried to run, almost as if it resisted him. The same thing that gave the suit its hardness must also get activated when he moved too quickly. He soon developed a smooth rhythm, and was able to catch up with the Southern Marshal. “What magical gift are you going to bestow upon me next?”

“Nothing. I’m presenting you before the Council of Elders.”

“The Council of Elders? Why?”

She continued walking at a fast pace. “Despite what it looks like, I’m not in charge here. I use my status as the Marshal over the Southern Territories to do what the Council tells me.”

“They told you to dress me up in this monkey suit and parade me around in front of them?”

She stopped sharply. “No. That was my idea. They told me to pack my things and be ready to run with the rest of the hybrids.”

“Run?”

She slammed a balled fist on his chest plate, the suit absorbing the impact so well, he didn’t feel the slightest vibration.

“We have a chance, actually have a chance, to change our destiny. And do you know what those idiots want us to do? They want us to run with our tails firmly between our legs. I’m taking you in front of them to prove we don’t have to run anymore. This suit, the Tin Man, even Toto, gives us a fighting chance to get the Brahmastra before the humans do. And I say we take that chance.”