Act Two, Part Three

Back in the workroom of the bicycle shop, yet another fighter charged in. Jim leapt up to swing from the rafters, catching his latest attacker with a teeth-rattling kick to the jaw. And when Jim jumped down again, he had one of the smaller wheels in his hands.

"Ha!" One of his opponents grabbed hold of the wheel and the two grappled over it briefly, Jim twisting it this way and that. In a effort to keep hold of the wheel, the robed one seized the two protruding ends of the axle, one in each hand.

How could he know that Jim had been hoping he would do that? West abruptly let go and slapped the wheel hard, sending it spinning. The combatant, surprised at the force of the wheel's angular momentum, tried to drop it - only the find that, instead of falling straight down, it continued on its most recent trajectory and smacked into the fighter's chest.

A snarl alerted Jim that he was under attack from yet another robed figure. Someone snatched up a long heavy-duty wrench from the tool box and swung on Jim with it. Jim ducked, grabbed the tray of tools sitting next to the tool box, and flung the whole thing at the wrench-wielder's head. With a gasp, the fighter dropped the wrench and threw up both arms to shield his face.

Jim paused a split-second to send a piercing glance at that one; there was something odd about the way the man had gasped.

But there was no time to think about that now, for two more fighters rushed Jim, one from his left, the other from his right. He stepped out from between them, fully expecting the two to crash into each other. Which they did, but not exactly. Taking a page from Jim himself, the larger one caught the smaller and gave that one a boost into the air so that the smaller one grabbed one of the large wheels hanging in the rafters and swung it down sharply. It came close to clipping Jim's head; he just barely dodged. But then he grabbed the wheel and gave it a good hard yank, throwing both the combatants in the human tower off balance so that they tumbled to the floor.

At the sound of someone rushing him from behind, Jim whirled and used the huge wheel still in his hands to smack away yet another attack, sending that fighter to the floor as well. He wielded the unwieldy thing, now as a shield, now as a weapon, beating back his foes.

Someone snatched up the wrench yet again, thrusting it into the spokes of the giant wheel, then giving it a twist to set it firmly within that multitude of wires. The robed one yanked hard, trying to pull Jim off his feet. He instead simply let go, and that fighter too went sprawling.

But they just kept coming at him. None were hanging back in the shadows any longer, and with the exceptions of the show-off and the lurker from behind the door, everyone Jim had sent to the floor had scrambled back up again. They pressed in around him, once more falling into that eerie silence. He tried to keep track of them all, but inevitably someone - or perhaps it was three someones - sprang at his back and managed to knock him down, although not out.

But now they all swarmed him, some seizing his arms, others his legs. They bore him up even as he struggled to get loose. "There!" hissed a sibilant voice, and someone swept the workbench clear, shoving the tool box off over the side.

They flung Jim onto the table, two robed figures gripping each of his arms and legs. One of the remaining pair hovered over him, face unseen under the deep hood. And the last…

"Leo's hurt!"

Jim's head snapped to the side to see the final robed figure leaning over the still-downed show-off. There was the woman's voice! She was part of the robed crew!

She threw back her hood, her eyes glaring at their captive. "You'll pay for this!" she snarled and snatched up one of the bicycle frames, then charged at the supine man.

"Jim!" came a voice, and for a second James West expected to see his partner making one of his patented timely entrances. But no, that hadn't been Artie's voice; it too was the voice of a woman. What's more, she had continued on past that single syllable, saying not, "Jim" but "Gemini."

The figure that had been hovering over Jim stepped between him and her enraged companion, blocking her from bashing the prisoner with the metal frame. "You remember what our Lady said. We were to keep him busy. Nothing more."

"Tell that to Leo!" Gemini snarled back. "And Libra! He knocked her out with the door!" Gripping the metal frame in her hands, she added, "Please, Scorpio. Just give me five seconds at him. Or one! That's all I ask."

"Stand down, Gemini!" Scorpio barked, and now that figure flung her hood back as well. "He is not to be hurt! The Lady will be very angry."

As soon as the argument had commenced, Jim had ceased struggling, waiting for the rest of his captors to get good and distracted by the quarrel. Now he drew up his legs and kicked out, breaking the grip of the four holding his lower half down. In the resulting confusion he managed to kick sideways at Scorpio as well, sending her reeling into Gemini. He then yanked him arms inward, pulling the remaining four off-balance.

No longer were the robed figures silent. The shock of the quiescent prisoner's sudden activity elicited gasps and exclamations all around - all of them in the voices of women. Jim rolled off the worktable and bolted for the door as the robed women scrambled to cut him off. Four of them managed to head him off, blocking his way as the others charged after him to set up yet another circle surrounding him.

Girls! Now he understood what had seemed off about them while they had fought him. Jim wasn't fond of battling against women - or at least, not with fisticuffs. "Who are you?" he demanded. "And who is this Lady who sent you after me?"

"That would be me," came a cheerful voice from the doorway. Jim whirled to see Miss Diana Jones, her hazel eyes twinkling, her parasol on her shoulder. And standing just behind her, his face entirely blank, was Artemus Gordon.

"What have you done to Artie?" Jim demanded. He started toward his vacant-eyed partner, but the ten robed girls caught at him and held him back.

As Jim struggled, Miss Jones threw a glance at Artie. "Oh, him? Why, I've only done to him the same as I did to you. Don't you remember?" And in the face of Jim's ferocious glare, she laughed gaily. "Oh,but of course: you don't!" And to her girls she said, "Release him, my acolytes."

They did. Jim instantly started for Artie, not giving a thought to the fact that Miss Jones was lifting her frilly parasol from her shoulder. Just as Jim stepped past her, he walked straight into a sudden cloud of chartreuse powder.

"And you won't remember this time either," she added as Jim tried to cough the insidious stuff back out of his lungs. "Look at me!" she now ordered.

He did.

"Good. You will listen to me and do everything I tell you to do. You will go with my acolytes. They will lead you to a bed where you will lie down and sleep until I call you." And to the black-robed girls she said, "Take him downstairs. I have business yet with dear Artemus."

Most of the acolytes moved to obey; however, the one called Gemini pushed forward and complained, "But what about Leo and Libra, my Lady? He hurt them!"

"Let us see." Miss Jones checked them both. "Take them down and attend to them," she ordered the girls. "They should wake shortly - in pain, no doubt - but I'm sure they'll soon be fine."

Some of the acolytes joined Gemini and Scorpio in collecting their fallen comrades. Then they all gathered by the worktable. Someone touched a switch, and the table slid to one side, revealing a set of stairs leading down into the dark. The acolytes escorted their wounded and their prisoner down the stairs, and the table slid back into its place.

"Well, my dear Artemus," said Miss Jones in satisfaction, "now that all that is taken care of, I should so like to pay a visit to the museum this afternoon. You will introduce me to the curator, won't you? I'm just dying to meet Dr Welis!"

Slowly Artie nodded.

"Oh, you're such a dear!" Miss Jones exclaimed. "But there are a few things first: to start with, you simply must behave as your typical affable self; we mustn't have anyone getting suspicious over you looking so blank!"

Instantly his expression returned to some semblance of normal.

"Good. Next, when you introduce me, you are to tell Dr Welis that my name is Cynthia Jones."

He nodded.

"And finally, when I dismiss you, you are to go straight back home to your train and sleep. And when you wake, you will remember nothing of what transpired from the moment just before the obedience dust first made its appearance. Do you understand?"

Again he nodded. "Yes, Miss Jones."

"Perfect!" She slipped her hand through his arm once more, laid the parasol on her shoulder, and said, "Shall we go?"

End of Act Two