Dead Streets

SIXTEEN

Getting into the Underwalk was a simple matter of opening a hidden panel in the floor and climbing down a ladder. The panel was spelled so only people with tongue worms could open it and, though I didn't know for sure, I guessed there was a number of lethal security precautions in place in case someone without a tongue worm somehow managed to get into the tunnel.

Once we reached the bottom of the ladder a fluorescent light panel in the ceiling activated. Devona and I looked around, but we were alone and there were no Dominari trams in sight. Considering the latter were driven by vermen reanimated by Victor Baron, I decided that wasn't a bad thing.

Since there was no way the monsters pursuing us could get into the tunnel, I took a few moments to reload my. 45. Devona, unfortunately, had no extra ammunition for her 9mm, and she tucked it into the back waistband of her skirt. I used up the last of my own ammo refilling the. 45's clip, so I'd need to be stingy with my bullets from here on out since I wasn't likely to stumble across anymore boxes of ammo lying around in the Underwalk.

"Do you remember the way?" Devona asked.

"To Tenebrus, yes. But after that, your guess is as good as mine."

"Let's start heading in that direction," she said. "It'll at least get us halfway to the Foundry. After that, we'll play it by ear."

"Sounds like a plan," I said, and we started walking.

We hadn't walked for ten minutes before we saw the headlights of a tram heading toward us, the electric hum of the engine getting louder as it drew near.

"I think we may have just found ourselves a ride," I said.

I stepped into the middle of the tunnel, directly into the tram's path. Devona joined me, though I would've preferred her to keep close to the tunnel wall where it was safer. I didn't say anything, however. Devona is just as capable as I am in dangerous situations. Besides, I knew she wouldn't listen to me.

The light panels on the ceiling above the tram had trouble activating fast enough to illuminate the vehicle's progress and we could only catch glimpses of the vehicle and its driver as they moved from patches of light to patches of darkness, but those glimpses were enough to confirm that the tram was being driven my a reanimated verman and like all the other creations of Victor Baron's we'd seen, this one was caught in the grip of bloodlust.

The creature aimed the tram directly at me and from the bloodstains covering the vehicle's front I knew I wouldn't be the verman's first victim since Osseal began singing its song of death and destruction. But then, I didn't intend to just stand there and let the reanimated ratman run me down.

I still had a few surprises left, thanks to Shrike and I reached into my right side pocket with my left hand – I still held my. 45 with my right – and removed a small red-skinned lizard. Its eyes were closed and it appeared dead, though its body wasn't stiff and there was no sign of decay. I held the lizard out in front of me, pointed it headfirst at the oncoming tram, and gave its belly a gentle squeeze. The lizard woke in my hand, opened its mouth and released a thin stream of fire at the tram. My left hand still wasn't fully coordinated, thanks to Baron's sloppy reconnection of my brain to my central nervous system, and my aim was slightly off, but then I wasn't trying to hit the verman.

The salamander's flame was nowhere near as powerful as that produced by Carnage's flamethrower, but it was enough to frighten the reanimated verman. The creature roared in fear and anger and turned the wheel to get away from the deadly fire. At the speed the tram was going, the sudden change in direction caused it to swerve. I tried to get out of the way, but I was too slow, and the tram clipped my leg. The impact spun me around and flung me to the ground. I watched the tram topple and slide on its side for a dozen feet before finally crashing into the tunnel wall and coming to a stop.

I'd stopped squeezing the salamander when I fell, though I'd managed to hold on to it. Its flame extinguished, it fell back to sleep, and it would remain that way until I woke it again. Small salamanders like this one are used in Nekropolis the same way lighters are on Earth, and while they don't produce all that much flame, I'd counted on the intense fear Baron's creatures had of fire to make up for the salamander's feeble stream, and my gamble had paid off.

I got to my feet and was relieved to find my leg wasn't broken – or at least not broken severely enough to keep me from walking. I limped toward the wrecked tram, intending to put a couple bullets in the reanimated verman's brain before he could extricate himself and resume trying to kill us. But Devona beat me to him. Moving with supernatural swiftness, she reached the tram in a blur of motion, knelt, grabbed hold of the verman's head and gave it a savage twist. The sound of snapping bone cut through the air and the verman's body fell limp. I knew the creature was dead (again), but I kept my. 45 aimed at its head as I approached. In Nekropolis safe is always better than sorry. But the deanimated verman had the good grace to stay dead and Devona pulled his body free from the tram and left it lying next to the tunnel wall.

Together we righted the tram and quick examination revealed that while the vehicle was banged up pretty good, it was still functional. We climbed in, pushed a button to turn on the engine, and – with me driving – we headed down the tunnel in the direction of Tenebrus. Given my problems with my left hand, I would've preferred Devona drive, but since she was reared in Gothtown, the daughter of a Darklord, she'd always had drivers to take her wherever she wanted, so she'd never learned to drive herself. Since I needed both hands to drive, and since Devona's 9mm was out of ammo, I handed her my. 45 and we both kept a sharp lookout for other reanimated vermen, whether on trams or on foot, as we drove. We came across a couple wrecked trams and the mutilated bodies of regular vermen which we maneuvered around, but we saw no sign of the Victor Baron variety. Presumably they were off causing mayhem elsewhere in the Underwalk.

"I'm not sure what your problem with Overkill was," I said after we'd been driving for a bit. "She did help us out."

Devona's face scrunched into a truly impressive scowl at the mention of Overkill's name. "It's not her that I have a problem with. It's the way she was flirting with you."

"Um… what?"

"Don't play coy. The way she was acting, I'm surprised she didn't jump your bones right there in Carnage's front seat."

I admit to not always being the fastest on the uptake when it comes to emotional stuff, but I really didn't believe Overkill was flirting with me. There might've been a certain amount of mutual appreciation of each other's skills going on, but flirting?

"That's ridiculous," I said. "And even if it was true – and I don't think it is – it doesn't matter. You have absolutely no reason to be jealous of her."

"And you don't have any reason to be jealous of Bogdan," Devona countered, "but that doesn't stop you from feeling that way, does it?"

"Touche," I said, feeling more than a little embarrassed. I decided to change the subject. "How are you doing after…" I struggled to find a way to express what I was trying to say. "Being trapped in Orlock's dome," I finally said. It didn't come close to communicating everything I wanted to say, but it was the best I could do.

"I'm managing," Devona said. She gave me a weak smile. "It helps that we're busy fighting to save the city again."

I smiled back. "Yeah, life-and-death battles have a wonderful way of distracting one from personal problems."

Her smile fell away. "How about you? How are you doing?"

"Coping," I said. "Even though I know it was all an illusion, it felt so real. You know?"

"Yes."

She put her hand on my leg and squeezed once and that was the last we spoke until we drew near the section of the Underwalk where I'd escaped from Tenebrus. I'd paid close attention at the time, so even though there were no markers of any sort to indicate our location, I was fairly confident we were in the right spot. But I knew it for certain when I saw Gnasher running down the tunnel toward us, his red albino eyes wide with terror. An instant later I saw why. The silvery shape of an Overwatcher glided through the air behind him, the skull faced creature moving with silent, menacing grace, like some manner of airborn shark. The Overwatcher's eyesockets began to glow a bright crimson and I knew the reanimated brain inside – driven insane by Osseal's song – was powering up its optic energy blasters to take out Gnasher.

Devona and I exchanged glances and in that same instant we telepathically came up with a plan. I worked the tram's throttle and the engine whined as the vehicle picked up speed.

"Gnasher, your dire blade!" I shouted. "Throw it straight up into the air!"

The verman had no idea what we were planning, but his people were quick witted and had even swifter reflexes. In a single smooth motion he drew the dire blade, the same one I'd slain Lycanthropus Rex with, and tossed it into the air. Devona dropped the. 45 onto the floor of the tram then sprang out of her seat, adding the power of her half-vampire legs to the vehicle's forward momentum. As she sailed through the air, hands outstretched, I swerved the tram to avoid hitting Gnasher and gripped the wheel with my right hand which reaching out to the verman with my left. Gnasher reached back for me and I snagged his hand, swung him into the tram and he scurried into the back seat. At the same instant Devona's fingers wrapped around the dire blade's hilt and momentum carried her straight for the Overwatcher. She landed on the creature's smooth metal back right behind its skull, straddling it backward. Petite though she is, the sudden addition of her weight caused the Overwatcher to dip slightly, and when it unleashed its eye beams, the twin bolts of ruby energy missed Gnasher and me, striking the tunnel floor and melting a section of the organic looking substance.

The tunnel shuddered then and a low tone reverberated through the air, almost like a moan. I thought of the organic nature of so much of Nekropolis – the Underwalk, Tenebrus, much of the strange architecture in the Sprawl – and for the first time since I'd come to the city, I found myself wondering if the Darkfolk hadn't constructed their otherdimensional home so much as grown it. Was Nekropolis itself in some bizarre fashion alive?

As disturbing as the thought was I thankfully didn't have time to pursue it. I watched as Devona turned at the waist and slammed the dire blade into the Overwatcher's silver skull. Dire blades aren't just supernaturally deadly, they're supernaturally sharp as well. With Devona's strength to power it the blade easily pierced the Overwatcher's metallic hide and sank into the soft brain beneath. The effect was immediate. The crimson light in the Overwatcher's eyesockets winked out and the creature crashed to the tunnel floor. Devona managed to jump free in time, though she had to leave the dire blade embedded in the Overwatcher's skull. She landed with a fluid grace that I found incredibly sexy. I slowed down, intending to stop and pick her up, and she started running toward the downed Overwatcher in order to retrieve the dire blade, but Gnasher shouted, "Leave it! Those things are designed to explode once they're brought down!"

I gave the tram full power and it picked up speed again. Devona sprinted down the tunnel after us and managed to leap aboard just as the Overwatcher vanished in a burst of light and fire. I felt the pressure of the blast roll over us, though I didn't feel the heat. I turned back to look at Gnasher and Devona, and while both of them were a little singed around the edges, I knew they'd survive.

"Another of Keket's nasty little surprises," Gnasher said. "Any inmate who brings down an Overwatcher risks being destroyed."

"Always thinking, that woman," I said.

Devona climbed back into the front passenger seat and picked the . 45 up off the floor where she'd left it.

"Nicely done, my love," I said.

"Why thank you, sir." She then grimaced and arched her back. "Though I think I might've pulled a muscle on that one."

"I have no idea what the two of you are doing here," Gnasher said, "but I am exceptionally glad to see you. It's total chaos inside Tenebrus." He paused. "Well. It's always chaos in there, but it's even worse now. Something's happened to the Overwatchers. They went mad and began firing energy blasts at everyone, including the guards. Keket herself came down into the general population to stop them, and the prisoners saw that as their chance to get revenge on her for using them as entertainment. They attacked her en masse, and even though she's a demilord, between the Overwatchers and the prisoners, she was having a hard time of it. I decided it might be prudent of me to take my leave until the current situation sorts itself out, but one of the Overwatchers followed me into the Underwalk. If you hadn't arrived when you did…" The verman shuddered as he trailed off.

"Our pleasure," I said. "And since we saved your snowy white hide, you owe us one. And your people always pay their debts."

Gnasher's eyes narrowed. "What do you want?"

"Not much," I said. "Just directions to the Foundry."

Gnasher guided us to a Dominari owned building in the Boneyard – a falling-down ruin not far from the Foundry. Before saying goodbye to us, he asked, "Are you going to try to stop whatever's happening?"

"That's the idea," I said.

He nodded. "Good. Too much death and destruction is bad for business."

I considered asking him how much was good, but instead Devona and I thanked him for his help, climbed the ladder, and emerged aboveground in what was left of a stone building whose original purpose I could only guess at.

"Why would the Dominari have entrances to the Underwalk in the Boneyard?" Devona asked. "It's not like there's a lot of profit to be made here."

I shrugged. "Who knows? Even the dead have needs. Maybe the Dominari figured out ways to meet them."

We moved cautiously out of the ruined building and into the street. The normally sparse traffic was nonexistent. The living had managed to get off the streets by now, and as for the dead… well, there was no sign of them, neither motorists nor pedestrians. It appeared that Devona and I had the street to ourselves.

We talked softly as we made our way to the Foundry, me limping on my injured leg but moving well enough not to slow us down too much.

"Where is everyone?" Devona asked.

"I don't know. I'm usually sensitive to the presence of other dead beings, but I don't sense any close by. It's almost like they're hiding… waiting for the trouble to blow over."

"Maybe they sense Osseal's power, and it scares them," Devona said. "Even if it's only being used to control Baron's creations."

"Maybe." That theory was better than anything I could come up with.

"Now that we're closer to the Foundry, can you feel Osseal's magic?"

I shook my head. "I don't feel a thing. Maybe it's because of Papa's spell blocking necklace, or maybe it's because Osseal is only being focused on Baron's monsters. Either way, I'm not sensing anything."

"Good," she said. "Now that we've made it this far, the last thing we need is for you to fall under the flute's power."

"That would well and truly suck, wouldn't it?"

We continued on in silence for several more minutes until we could see the Foundry up ahead. It looked the same as always – tower lattice crackling with electricity, smokestacks belching black into the sky, the heavy thrum of power filling the air. But as we got closer, we saw there was one thing new: behind the main gate stood several dozen of Baron's creatures. I recognized some of them from our last visit, but most of them were unknown to me. I had no doubt they were all equally dangerous, though.

Devona and stepped across the street and regarded the assembled monsters. Unlike the creatures we'd seen rampaging on the streets of the Sprawl, these displayed no sign of aggression whatsoever. They made no move to open the gate and attack us. In fact, they didn't react to our presence in any way.

"It's almost as if they've been waiting for us," Devona said.

"Waiting for someone. Baron's not the kind of man to leave anything to chance. He figured someone would realize he was behind the rioting and he commanded his monsters to guard the main gate in case someone showed up to try and stop him."

"Someone like us," Devona said.

"Yep."

We looked at Baron's monsters some more. Somehow they seemed ever larger and more intimidating than they had a few moments ago.

"We're not going to be able to fight our way inside," Devona said.

She'd returned my. 45 to me when we'd stopped the tram, but it only had so many bullets left, and they weren't going to be enough. Same for the magic items we had left. None of them were particularly powerful, and with the exception of the salamander, I didn't see how they'd be of much use. And the salamander, small as it was, couldn't produce a strong enough flame to frighten all of the monsters gathered at Baron's gate.

"No, we are not," I agreed.

"So that only leaves us one option I can see."

I nodded. "The direct approach."

She sighed. "I hate the direct approach."

We headed across the street.

The monsters continued to show no reaction to our presence as we drew near, though it was obvious they were watching us closely. When we reached the gate, the skull sentry swiveled its organic eyes to regard us.

"You two have some serious cojones to show yourselves here, you know that?" the sentry said. "You do realize we're in the process of destroying the city, right?"

"We noticed," I said drily. "How about opening up and letting us in so we can tell your boss in person how much we admire his brilliant plan?"

"Seriously?" the sentry said. "Is that the best you can come up with?"

"I suppose I could've said 'Let us in so we can stop your boss,' but I thought that might be tipping our hand too much."

The sentry glared at me.

"Oh, I'll let you in all right, and when I do, my friends here will tear you into…" He trailed off, his gaze becoming unfocused as if he were listening to some inner voice. When his eyes refocused, he spoke in a monotone, as if mechanically repeating instructions he was being fed. "You've been granted safe passage. You'll be escorted to the Foundry. If you try anything even remotely suspicious, your escorts will kill you."

The gate swung slowly open and a pair of Baron's creatures – one male, one female – stepped forward. They continued to eye us dispassionately, but I had no doubt they'd do as the sentry warned if we didn't behave ourselves. Devona and I stepped inside, and with the monsters flanking us, we headed up the driveway to the Foundry. The sentry closed the gate behind us, and the other monsters continued their silent watch.

As we walked, I reached out to Devona's mind: Well, we're in.

Yeah, we have Baron right where he wants us.

I didn't have any witty rejoinder to that, especially since I was afraid she was right, so we continued the rest of the way to the Foundry in silence. The door opened as we approached to reveal a pair of men waiting for us.

"Didn't think we'd see you here again," Burke said.

"Took some slick detective work on his part to figure it out," Hare added.

"Too right," Burke agreed. "Guess he's got a good head on his shoulders, eh?"

"Has trouble keeping it attached, though," Hare said. He gave me a sly smile. "You really should pay more attention when you walk past dark alleys from now on."

"I'll keep that in mind," I said.

"Enough chit-chat," Burke said. He stepped back and motioned for us to enter. "His lordship is waiting."

We walked inside, our two monstrous escorts trailing along behind. I hooked a thumb over my shoulder toward them. "Don't you two think you can handle us by yourselves? Then again, it did take both of you to get my head. Guys like you probably need each other's help to wipe your asses."

Hare bared his teeth and took a step toward me, but Burke put a hand on his partner's shoulder to restrain him.

"Pay him no mind. He's just trying to rattle us." Burke smiled at me. "Shows that he's desperate is all."

I didn't reply, primarily because he was right.

Burke ordered the monsters to shut the door, one of them did, and we started down the corridor, Burke and Hare leading the way, Devona and I coming next, with our guard-monsters bringing up the rear. The halls of the Foundry were quiet and empty, the soundproofed corridors cutting out the omnipresent power hum that permeated the air outside the facility. We walked on in silence until we encountered a man coming toward us. I recognized him as one of the scientists Baron employed, the wild haired, wild eyed Dr. Fronkensteen. Only now his eyes were blank and staring, his features slack, mouth hanging partway open. Around his head was a metal band with thin rods jutting out, and it didn't take a great leap of deductive reasoning on my part to guess the crown's purpose. I had no doubt the rest of the Foundry's scientists wore similar devices.

"Looks like some of your boss's employees need a bit of technological coaxing to get with the new program," I said as the man passed us without the slightest sign that he was aware of our existence.

"You know how it goes," Burke said. "A motivated employee is a happy employee."

Both men laughed and continued leading us deeper into the Foundry. We soon passed the lab where Baron had reattached my head and still we continued onward, taking one turn after another, until Burke and Hare brought us to a stop outside a pair of doors with ornate woodwork and polished brass knobs.

"Welcome to the nerve center of the Foundry," Burke said. He nodded to Hare and the other man gripped both knobs, turned them, and pushed the doors open. He then stepped aside, gave us a mocking bow, and gestured for us to enter. Wishing I had anything even remotely approximating a plan, I did so, Devona at my side. Burke, Hare, and the guard-monsters followed, closing the door behind us.

The room was huge, easily three stories high, and a couple hundred feet across. The floor was tiled, but the walls and ceiling were flesh-tech, moist pink and shot through with swollen, pulsing veins, and I knew that Burke hadn't been joking. This was literally the nerve center – or perhaps more appropriately the heart – of Baron's factory. Flesh cables extended from the walls and stretched toward a high-backed fleshtech chair in the center of the room where they twined together to form a large cable bundle affixed to the chair back. Hanging down from the ceiling in front of the chair, dangling from a thick optic nerve, was a large Mind's Eye projector, the iris slate-gray, the white marred by threads of broken capillaries. The Mind's Eye was active, glowing with a sour yellow light, and before I could finish taking in the rest of the room, it snagged my attention. Images of monsters rioting in the streets of Nekropolis filled my head, and I heard Acantha's frantic voice.

"- can't begin to describe how devastating the attacks have been so far! Initial reports put the number of dead in the dozens, and that number is sure to rise if this situation isn't resolved soon! So far, there's been no sign of the Darklords, and all attempts to contact them have failed. I've personally been in contact with First Adjudicator Quillion, who says he's been attempting to get in touch with Victor Baron to discover what's caused his creations to go mad, but so far Quillion has had no luck reaching him. Meanwhile, the fighting in the streets continues unabated. Sentinels and citizens alike are doing what they can to combat the rampaging monsters, but there's simply too many to-"

Acantha broke off as a particularly hulking monster came stomping toward her. She screamed, turned to flee, and the transmission ended abruptly. I hoped her camera snakes had simply stopped filming in the confusion, but I feared the worst.

Now that the Mind's Eye was inactive, I could once more focus my attention on the chair in the center of the room. One person sat there, while a second stood by his side: Victor Baron and his assistant Henry. But something was wrong. Baron was the one standing, while Henry sat in the chair, still looking at the inactive Mind's Eye.

"Now that's what I call entertainment," Henry said. Smaller flesh cables extended from the chair near the head and at the arm rests, their ends attached to Henry's temples and wrists. They detached and retracted into the chair as he rose, moving with his characteristically stiff, spastic motions. He turned to look at us, and I saw that he'd thrown back the hood of his robe to fully reveal his misshapen features. The robe was also now open down the front, displaying Henry's bare chest. Embedded into the flesh, running vertically from the base of his throat to his belly button, was Osseal. The mouthpiece of the bone flute was covered with a flap of skin, and every time Henry breathed, a series of soft notes emerged from the ivory instrument.

Henry came toward us with his lurching walk, but Baron – dressed in his white lab coat and black pants – remained standing next to the chair. When Henry noticed, he paused and glanced back over his shoulder with an irritated expression.

"Heel, boy," he snarled.

Baron turned and walked over to join Henry, brow furrowed, jaw muscles tight, eyes blazing with anger, as if he were fighting an intense internal struggle. Once he reached Henry, the two of them continued walking toward us. Burke and Hare led Devona and me farther into the room, and we met Henry and Baron halfway.

"Believe it or not, I'm glad to see you," Henry said. "It's nice to have someone I can properly gloat in front of."

When he spoke, Osseal's song grew louder, and his words took on an almost musical lilt. The flute's tone was a sad, haunting one, and even though I was protected from its influence by the Loa necklace, this close I could feel a slight pull from the instrument, as if it were calling to me. I knew that Victor Baron heard its music clearly, and that meant he was under Henry's control.

Henry looked at Burke and Hare. "You two can go now – and take the creatures with you." He gestured at our monstrous escorts.

Burke frowned. "You sure?"

Henry smiled. "Your concern for my safety is appreciated, but as formidable of opponents as Mr. Richter and Ms. Kanti may be, I believe I can handle them. Besides, I have Victor to protect me." He patted Baron on the shoulder, and while Baron's mouth tightened in anger, he gave no other reaction to Henry's touch.

Henry went on. "I want you two outside to direct the creatures at the gate. It won't be long before Quillion sends his Sentinels to pay us a visit. We'll need to be ready for them."

"Righto," Burke said before turning to me. "Pleasure seeing you again," he said to me with a mocking grin.

"Likewise," Hare said. "Call us the next time you need a trim. We'll be glad to take a little off the top."

Laughing, the two men left the room, taking the guardmonsters with them.

"So," Henry said once the others had departed, "are you surprised to discover I'm the ultimate villain in this little drama? Please tell me you didn't guess it was me. I'd be so disappointed if you had."

"I can truthfully say we didn't see it coming," I said. "So Baron had absolutely nothing to do with Osseal's theft?"

"Depends on how you look at it," Henry said. "In one sense he's responsible for everything that's happened." His jovial mood vanished then, and his tone grew cold. "Do you know how he came by his name? Victor Baron? He decided to take the name of his father, Baron Victor Frankenstein. Of course, he was determined to be his own man, too." He turned to Baron. "Didn't want to live his life in Daddy's shadow, did you?"

Baron glared at Henry but otherwise didn't respond.

Henry continued. "So instead of taking the Frankenstein surname, he indulged in a bit of juvenile wordplay and become Victor Baron. Pathetic, really, and more than a bit disrespectful, don't you think?"

As I listened to Henry talk, a suspicion began to form in my mind. "When we first met, I thought you were Baron's assistant. But you're not, are you?"

Devona looked at me, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"When Henry rose from the chair and I saw he'd surgically grafted Osseal to himself, my first thought was that he was simply a disgruntled employee who was tired of being number two and wanted to take over his boss's business for himself." I turned to Henry. "But it's more than that, isn't it? A lot more."

Henry gave me a look so cold that, if he'd been Acantha, I'd have turned to stone on the spot.

Devona's eyes widened in sudden realization.

"You're Dr. Frankenstein!" she said.

Henry inclined his head. "At your service."

"If that's true, then why go by the name Henry?"

"It's my middle name. And I wasn't about to call myself Victor anymore. Not after he took the name."

I thought back to the interactions I'd observed between Baron and Henry. Henry had been more than a bit snarky toward Baron, but the latter had tolerantly accepted the other's behavior. At the time, I'd thought Baron had been simply too caught up in his work to care, but now I recognized his tolerance as that of an adult child good-naturedly putting up with the irritating behavior of an older relative.

"Why the resentment toward Baron?" I asked. "He seemed to treat you well enough. More like a partner than an assistant."

"That's what he wanted everyone to believe," Henry said. "But in truth he regards me as an inferior intellect, barely fit to wash out his test tubes."

A sorrowful look came into Baron's eyes, but he remained standing still at Henry's side.

"Is that what Baron thinks or what you think?" Devona asked gently, but Henry ignored her.

"When we met I told you that Shelley's novel got some of our story right, though many of the specific details are different. Suffice it to say that I'd attempted to create a perfect man, only to realize I'd fallen far short of that too-lofty goal and instead created a monster. I attempted to rectify that mistake and destroy the beast I'd made, and he in turn tried to destroy me. In the end I died and my monster lived and I went into the darkness with the consolation of knowing I was at least free of the grotesque abomination I'd brought into the world. But do you know what he did? He refused to let me stay dead! He claimed he did it out of love, because he didn't want to lose the only family he had in the world. But I knew the truth. He did it out of spite – for vengeance's sake! He brought my body to my lab and using my notes and equipment, he went to work. The result? He succeeded in returning me to life, but trapped inside this twisted joke of a body. He apologized for the crudity of his work, saying said it was because this was his first attempt at the reanimatory arts. He promised to continue, experimenting and learning, until he'd obtained the knowledge and skill to fully restore me. What a laugh! As if he ever had any intention of doing so!"

"Judging by how he looks, I'd say he succeeded in mastering his craft," I said. "Has he never offered to operate on you again?"

"Numerous times," Henry said. "But do you think I'd ever allow him to come near me with surgical tools again after what he did to me?"

I thought to Devona, Sounds to me like what Henry needs isn't a medical doctor as much as a really good psychiatrist.

No kidding, she replied.

He's already more unstable than a house of cards in a hurricane. Let's see if we can't push him the rest of the way over the edge, maybe get him to make a mistake.

Maybe get him to kill us, you mean, Devona thought.

What's life without a little risk? I countered.

Easy for you to say – you're already dead!

I had to keep from smiling at that. Aloud, I said, "It must've eaten away at you, coming to Nekropolis and working alongside Baron all these years, watching him improve himself physically while he became increasingly successful."

Henry nodded emphatically. "So successful that people started calling him the Sixth Lord? Can you believe it? What hubris!"

"And all the different refinements and applications he came up with were based on your original work," Devona added.

"That's right! And what's tattooed on everything that leaves the Foundry, on the laborers, voxes, Mind's Eye sets? Another Victor Baron Creation. As if I'd never existed!"

"Worst of all, Baron succeeded where you failed," I said. "Thanks to his efforts to continually improve himself over the years, he did become the perfect man. Or at least as close to perfect as possible."

Henry had become more and more agitated as we'd talked and now his face was red with fury and spittle flew from his mouth as he spoke.

Henry whirled on me. "Ye s, damn you, yes! " He practically screamed these words and beneath his voice Osseal's tone became a highpitched shrill.

Now! I thought to Devona.

With Henry's full attention focused on me, Devona seized the opportunity to make a lunge for Osseal. As strong as she was, if she could grab hold of the instrument and rip it free from Henry's chest -