Curioddity (36 page)

“What are you doing?” hissed Lucy again. “You're going to give us away.”

“I think that particular ship has sailed,” admitted Wil. “I'm just being careful.” The periscope's weight caused him to stagger slightly.

“How careful can you be holding a hundred pounds of metal over your head in the middle of a penthouse lobby with a bunch of robots trying to kill you?”

“Not very! Just bear with me!”

Wil peered into the periscope to look at the floors below. Nothing doing but for a few frantic little gnome creatures piling into the back of a forklift truck, and the occasional errant ninja-bot rushing past in flames. Wil swiveled the periscope until it alighted on the elevator shaft. The elevator moved up to the floor directly below them. And standing in it was a very smug looking (not to mention nefarious) Marcus James. Next to him stood a heretofore-unseen ninja-bot armed with a military-grade machine-gun cannon. Wil gasped.

“What is it?”

“It's Marcus! He's in the elevator!” Wil tried not to look self-conscious as the secretary scowled at him. “He's in the elevator with another one of those robots, and this one doesn't look at all pleasant,” he hissed.

“What do we do?”

“I don't know.”

Just at that moment, the Whatsit beeped inside Wil's pocket.

*   *   *

T
O SAY
that Marcus James never knew what hit him as the elevator doors slowly opened was somewhat of an understatement. He was only briefly aware of the distinctive hollow
thwack
of an Air-Max 4000, and a short beeping sound flying directly toward his face. Moments later, his world (and legacy) would change in an incredibly dramatic fashion.

In those same moments, the weapons-grade ninja-bot would also endure a reorganization of its intended function. As it emerged from the elevator with its machine-gun cannons firing at full blast, its robotic sensors were rather confused to discover that instead of discharging hollow-point cannon shells capable of ripping human flesh to shreds, it had suddenly begun to shoot bright red tulips instead. The tulips seemed less of the “flesh shredding” variety and more of a benign and fragrant variety as they fell harmlessly to the floor, carpeting the place with vibrant color.

The ninja-bot looked around the upstairs lobby, confused, as three human flesh targets made their polite excuses and stepped past it into the elevator shaft. It tried valiantly to pepper them with heat-seeking thermo-grenades and was startled to find itself lobbing small orchids in their direction. As the doors to the elevator closed, the poor, confused machine set off down the hallway in search of someone who might be willing to reprogram it.

Had it looked up at one of the two huge HD screens dominating the lobby, it would have been perplexed to find its master key holder, Marcus James, standing completely naked in the middle of his broadcast studio amid a pile of discarded clipboards, with a single tulip in one hand, a small orchid in the other, and a very sheepish grin on his face indeed.

*   *   *

A
ND HAD
Marcus been aware at that very moment that Wil and Lucy had made their way out of the Castle Towers and were now staring up at events unfolding above in the penthouse, flushed with success, his grin would have been of the upside-down variety.

 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

D
URING WHAT
Lucy described as the “car ride” back to the museum (but which Wil would later describe as a “series of terror-filled near-accidents in the passenger seat of a rusted death trap driven by a crazy woman”), Wil allowed himself a brief moment of self-congratulation in between longer moments of sheer panic.

Genghis screeched away from the Castle Towers, leaving behind a pillar of rubberized smoke. Wil gripped the sides of his passenger seat with both hands, resolving never to go back to his former office building. This put him in a better mood than he might have expected. As he looked up into the night sky, he was astounded to see the upper levels of the building flashing intermittently with virtually every color of the rainbow. Wil could only imagine how many Air-Max 4000 golf clubs were being broken over someone's knee right at that very moment.

Next door to the Castle Towers, the Swiss clock was undergoing a transformation: the laser beam springing from the top of the building was growing in intensity, so much so that it had plowed a huge hole through the angry clouds above. The beam glowed with an unnatural blue light as red pulses upward flew along its length and into empty space above. No doubt, Marcus James's producers—acting in accordance with their kind—were rapidly deserting the failing production below. The pulses grew stronger and stronger until with a final flourish they lit up the night sky like an errant nuclear detonation … and then there was simply silence, and the black of the night sky. Wil listened intently for any concussive episode that might follow and was amused to hear instead the resonant (and satisfying) sound of the Swiss clock's
KLONNG,
as if the awful edifice were saying a final goodbye.

Suddenly, the top of the Castle Towers erupted in a flash of brilliant colors, ranging from a glowing magenta to a deep neon green. Orange fireworks seemed to blow out every window on the top floor, and a giant blue ball popped out of the roof and hurtled into the night sky. Despite his understandable terror, Wil couldn't help but be impressed by the pyrotechnics—this was just the sort of effect he'd always been going for when any of his childhood experiments had arbitrarily exploded.

His amazement was to be short-lived, however (though his terror would increase exponentially just to even things out). The giant blue ball described a huge, impressive arc against the pitch-black night and—despite Genghis the Pinto's own series of exotic maneuvers—began to grow bigger in size as it reached its apex and plummeted toward the ground.

“Lucy,” said Wil, rather meekly. His fight-or-flight response mechanism was making a mental toss-up between interacting with his temporarily deranged girlfriend or the rapidly enlarging giant blue ball. “Lucy!” he repeated, a little more forcefully.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” yelled Lucy in response as her demonic possession took full hold. As if to emphasize her annoyance, she swerved across a sidewalk and dislodged a fire hydrant that had previously been minding its own business. “I'm trying to escape here!”

“Up in the sky! Imminent death! Step on it!” screamed Wil, pointing to the rapidly descending giant blue ball.

Seeing the instrument of her impending demise hurtling toward her at a very high rate of speed, Lucy let out a half gargle/half sneer and swerved to the right, scraping the side of an innocent parked car. “Hold tight!” she screamed, clearly unaware that Wil was already holding very tightly indeed. Lucy aimed Genghis for a pile of discarded dirt that some unfortunate street workers had handily left earlier, and with an engine roar that sounded roughly as powerful as, say, an electric screwdriver, the Ford Pinto caught four feet of air and slammed into the main drag of the one-way system. The massive blue ball missed them by inches. It crashed into the workers' pile of dirt and bounced a couple of times, sending a shower of impressive blue sparks in every direction. The strange mass careened into a parked truck, which exploded in a manner suitable for a Hollywood action flick, and then set off across the street like a silver pinball, where it made a beeline for an advertising billboard for Gleemodent toothpaste. Wil watched with great satisfaction as the huge ball crashed through Marcus James's impossibly white teeth and embedded itself in the side of a concrete wall behind the billboard.

Leaving only destruction in its wake, the mighty Genghis careened around the one-way system and off into the night, narrowly missing Pan's extended farewell on the driver's side of the Pinto. Wil was vaguely aware of a mass of flashing blue lights headed in the opposite direction, some of which now converged at the base of the Castle Towers and some of which headed toward the still-sparking blue ball, like worker ants rushing to the aid of their queen. Despite Wil's utter dread, he allowed himself a smile at the notion that the arriving police and emergency vehicles might have been better occupied following Genghis and his insane mistress, as opposed to bringing Marcus James to the minimal justice he would no doubt endure. The rusted Pinto barreled across three lanes and scraped the side of a barrier before righting itself and jetting off toward the Curioddity Museum in an attempt to set a world land speed record.

Time now seemed to slow down for Wil. Inside his left pocket, the Whatsit beeped in such a fashion that Wil took to mean it was either pleased with itself, or it wanted more action. In his other pocket, SARA glowed. He pulled her out for a moment or two and was amazed to discover a hitherto-undiscovered function playing across her screen: somehow, SARA had tapped into the Shopping Network and was able to replay the greatest moments from Marcus James's evening of shame, which seemed to be already making its way across the World Wide Web. Marcus James was about to discover that “going viral” was much like being attacked by a large fleet of pillaging Vikings. Wil had no doubt Marcus would be out on bail by Friday afternoon. But he'd wake in his opulent satin sheets come Saturday morning and feel as though he had been overrun by metaphorical Swedes with a penchant for foul-smelling clothing and violent drinking games.

“
Greetings, Wil Morgan,
” intoned SARA. “
You have eighty-seven incoming messages from Lahore, Pakistan. Would you like to respond?
”

“No thank you, SARA,” replied Wil, happily. “Please just tell everyone over there I'll get back to them in a couple of years once the excitement has died down.”

“
Affirmative.
”

“And SARA?”

“
Yes, Wil Morgan?
”

“I'm glad we finally understand each other. Thank you.”

*   *   *

SARA
SWITCHED
off her screen and remained inert all the way back to Upside-Down Street—no mean feat considering the exotic set of maneuvers Lucy attempted to execute on the way there. At the museum, Genghis marauded across the recently replaced street sign and left his signature tire marks in the street outside the revolving door. Wil exited the vehicle quickly, and waited a few moments for the blood to rush out of Lucy's ears and back into her heart before attempting to make eye contact.

“Lucy,” he said, breathless, “I want you to know that was the most amazing, terrifying, exhilarating experience I have ever had in my entire life.”

“Really?” Lucy seemed both entranced at the notion and mildly concerned that he was referring only to her driving.

“Really. That was completely nuts.”

“And also completely groovy.”

“Exactly.” Wil moved to Lucy's side of the car and took her half of the caboodle pile gently away from her. He set the items down on the sidewalk, held both of Lucy's hands, and looked deeply into her eyes. “I wouldn't have said it if it wasn't true. That was utterly ridiculous. Especially for a first date.”

Lucy flashed the kind of smile that would sink ships, if she meant it to. “So does this mean you want to do it again?” she said, coyly.

“If it involves certain death, imminent danger, or just plain bubble tea, I'm your man.”

“Except ninja-bots?”

“Especially ninja-bots.”

“Groovy,” she said. “And awkward. I think we just took out the last of them.”

“Come on,” said Wil with a grin spreading across his face. He grabbed as much of the pile as he could, checked his inner pocket to make sure the electricity bill was secure, and headed for the revolving door. “We need to get this stuff back to its rightful owner.”

He had taken no more than two steps toward the revolving door before it whirled suddenly, and Mr. Dinsdale emerged with his hands in the air, looking for all the world like a psychotic evangelist.

“Wil!” yelled Mr. Dinsdale. “Lucy! Come quickly! Hurry!”

“Mr. Dinsdale! We got the piece of paper you were looking for!” cried Wil.

“Yes, yes! I know you did! SARA sent us an electronic copy from the cloud! Just hurry!”

As quickly as he had appeared, Dinsdale vaulted backward into the path of the revolving door and was whisked instantly inside. Wil and Lucy glanced at each other, impressed at the neatness by which he had managed the maneuver. They quickened their pace and, laden with a huge pile of unlikely items—all of which had proven unerringly useful in the evening's proceedings—they moved in on the revolving door and navigated it as easily as the Lord of the British Admiralty might navigate a bathtub.

*   *   *

I
NSIDE THE
museum lobby, Mr. Dinsdale clucked and fussed. “Ah! There you are!” he called as Wil and Lucy entered. “Upstairs! We don't have much time! Follow me!”

To one side, Mary Gold stood with her arms folded, smacking her gum loudly in an apparent attempt to set a world record at gum smacking. As Wil approached, she winked at him, and moved to the far side of the register to pretend she was annoyed about something. Wil resolved to keep this moment a secret between them.

Holding hands, he and Lucy followed Mr. Dinsdale toward the staircase. By the time they reached the base, he was standing at the top balcony and looking impatient. “Hurry!” he said again. “Both of you! Up here!”

“But Mr. Dinsdale—”

“Just hurry! They're going to be here within the hour!”

“Mr. Dinsdale!” yelled Wil at the top of his lungs. “We've just cracked a safe, been attacked by robots, attempted to communicate with a pair of no-legged conjoined twins from another dimension, and narrowly avoided being flattened by a giant globe that shot out of the top of the Castle Towers! So we've had a bit of a day!”