Act Three, Part Three

"Are you sure this will work?" asked Jim.

"Ought to," replied Artie, busily cobbling something together at his small lab table in the baggage car. "Using these in tandem should increase the range either of them would have by itself." He continued working, tucking the tip of his tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he did so.

Jim folded his arms and leaned against the table, watching. "You realize what's going on here," he said.

"You mean, what Faustina's up to?"

"Yes. The change in her modus operandi. The previous time we ran up against her, she made a replica of me with a bomb in his chest and sent him out to blow up a group of the president's cabinet members, all to send a message to the president, insisting he fund her macabre, pseudoscientific projects."

Artie nodded. "Mm-hmm. And when he sent her a letter of refusal — I was there when she read the letter; the old general was his usual blunt self, even questioning her sanity — she then told me I was going to help her kill the president. Locked me up, made that bomb-boy replica of me, and sent him out with the task of blowing up the president at the New Orleans federal building."

"But we foiled her. Took care of the threat to the president."

"And would have locked her up too, except by the time we could return to her spooky ol' mansion…"

"Yeah," said Jim. "They'd absconded, she and her assistant Miklos, and made off for parts unknown."

"Said unknown parts turning out to be right here in San Francisc — ow!"

"You all right, Artie?"

"Yeah. Just nicked my finger, that's all." He slid open a drawer, took out a roll of gauze, and wound some of it around his finger. "But now that they're here, back in their old business of reanimating dead bodies with bombs tucked inside, instead of targeting federal buildings or government officials…"

"With the proviso that she's been sticking the faces of the mayor and such on her walking bombs," Jim put in.

"Yes, and Emperor Norton to boot! But she wasn't targeting anyone or anything. The bombs just marched themselves out into the bay and BOOM!"

"Right. Nobody targeted, nobody blown up — until we arrive."

"Yeah, and so far she's made two attempts to turn us into mincemeat in a single night!"

Jim caught his partner's eye. "So what would you say she's up to, Artie?"

He gave a small shrug. "Oh, the usual. Revenge for having thwarted her. Removing us out of her way so that she can… you know…" Again he shrugged.

"Go back to business as usual?"

"Something like that, yes. She didn't send the president any demand letters this time, but she could be saving that for when she thinks she's got a clear field again, having, ah, taken care of us."

"Sounds about right," said Jim.

"And… there!" said Artie.

"Finished?" Jim looked at the device Artie had been working on. It was familiar in a way, as it was made of their two sonic screwdrivers, Jim's and Artie's, linked together end to end. "And it will work?" he added.

"You keep asking that, oh ye of little faith! Yes, it will work. I would have preferred to have my TARDIS do the search, since obviously she would have been able to scan the entirety of San Francisco — not to mention, California and beyond — to locate the tracker button on Peaches' clothing. But with Rosalind missing, I have to go with the sonic instead — except that one sonic screwdriver hasn't enough range to check the whole city."

"And the two together should double that range," said Jim.

"Even better. You see this?" Artie pointed at the doohickey right in the middle, linking the ends of the sonics together.

Jim peered at it. "Looks like part of one of your Bunsen burners."

"In a former life, yes. But I've worked some of the ol' Gordon magic on it, and now it's an amplifier. Instead of merely doubling the range, it should magnify the range exponentially to increase the sonics' scanning capacity."

"Exponentially, huh?"

Artie beamed and nodded.

"So instead of one sonic plus one sonic, we have one sonic times one sonic?"

"Essentially, yes."

"Well, that's interesting, Artie. Because one plus one is two, but one times one…" Jim eyed his partner, perfectly deadpan. "…is still one."

There was a beat of silence, then Artie shot him a ferocious glare. Grumbling under his breath, he tore the two sonics apart and started over.

…

"Suzie!" Lily screamed as the baby disappeared. With all her might the young mother smashed a fist into Dr Faustina's face. She then scrambled at the handle of the carriage door, and once it swung open, she flung herself from the moving carriage to land awkwardly on the cobblestones.

Miklos instantly reined up, and started to jump down from the carriage himself.

"No, no!" called Faustina, applying a handkerchief to the split in her lip. "Leave her! She is of no further use to us. We must hurry. She believes the agents will return to their train. Take us there at once!" And as Miklos clambered back up to his seat and took up the reins, Faustina turned to the silent cloaked figure sitting in the carriage with her and said, "Listen carefully and do precisely what I tell you. I must acquire one of those blast cloaks! Therefore when we arrive at the railroad yards, I will want you to…"

…

"Ok, now it should work!"

Jim eyed the new improved double sonic screwdriver, linked side by side this time with a spaghetti-like tangle of wires running through the burner barrel between them. "You're sure about that?"

Artie gave a sigh. "All right, no, I'm not. But we've got to find Suzie, so…" He flicked the contraption on.

Whether or not the range of the two linked sonics would be magnified exponentially might be debatable, but the electronic whine of the device was certainly a magnitude greater than usual. Both men winced, and Jim covered his ears. Artie, with the device in his right hand, could only cover his left ear as he slowly pivoted in a full circle.

Once that was done, he mercifully turned the thing back off again. "Ok, let's have a look." Both men leaned over the device, checking the readout.

Jim frowned. "Why does it say that?" he asked.

Artie's face turned pale. "Not found! How could Peaches be not found?" He gave the jury-rigged contraption a whack with his hand, then made the scan again.

As soon as the sound was over with once more, both Jim and Artie took another look. "Artie, it still says 'Not found.' "

"I know," Artie grumped.

"But what's that supposed to mean?" Jim persisted.

With an impatient sigh, Artie said, "Well, it's not impossible, I guess, that Dr Faustina somehow figured out that the button on Peaches' dress was a tracking device and got rid of it. Or…"

"Or?"

Scowling, Artie picked up the double sonic and shook it. "Or else this darned thing doesn't work after all and I just wasted all that precious time building it twice. Here!" He yanked the device to pieces again and passed Jim's sonic to him.

Only to have Jim immediately pass it back. "I was about to suggest that if it's not locating Suzie, maybe you should try looking for Rosalind instead."

Artie's jaw sagged. Slowly he blinked, and when that was done, he rolled his eyes before starting to cobble the device back together for the third time.

…

Lily groaned and tried to sit up, finding that after her second nose dive of the evening, she had new bruises on top of the first set of bruises. Worse, her right knee was being completely uncooperative; it felt like it was being stabbed with dozens of red-hot pokers. Unable to sit up, she instead rolled onto her side and looked around.

What? Where was… "Suzie?" she cried. "Suzie!" Oh, where could she be? They surely hadn't traveled very far from the point at which Dr Faustina had dropped the baby, yet Lily could see nothing of her daughter — no, nor of the treacherous bump in the road that has caused the insane doctor to let go of the little girl.

"Suzie! Suzie!" Lily cried, coming close to hysteria.

The sound of rapid footfalls reached her ears, along with the barking of a dog. No, two dogs. An elderly gentleman in an outlandish uniform hurried towards her, outdistanced by a pair of dogs. "Oh, our dear woman!" exclaimed the man. "Are you all right?" Gently he tried to lift her to her feet, and when she immediately collapsed again with a cry of pain, he pressed his walking stick into her hand. "Come, our dear. There's a wrought-iron bench by the side of the road only a few yards from here. Lean on us and on the cane, and we shall get you there."

"My, my daughter," Lily gasped.

"Daughter?" The old man looked around. "Where is she?"

"I don't know!" Lily wailed. "That horrible Faustina dropped her from the moving carriage, so I jumped out after her, but I can't find her!"

"Moving…!" The man clamped his mouth shut. If the woman herself had been injured from a leap from such a carriage, how much more so would be a child? Still… "Bummer! Lazarus! Come here, our lads!"

The two dogs hurried to the old man, whimpering with excitement.

"There's a little girl somewhere around here, a lost little girl. Nose about, both of you, and find her," he ordered. And as he aided the woman to reach the bench, his dogs darted about in mad circles, then took off running.

"I'm sure the lads will find her, our dear," he said comfortingly.

"Thank you, sir."

He patted her hand and smiled. "It's 'Your Imperial Majesty,' to be precise," he corrected amiably.

Lily gaped at him for an instant. "You… you're Emperor Norton?"

"First of the name!" he beamed proudly. "Emperor of these United States and Protector of Mexico. And you, our dear?"

"Lily Gordon."

"Charmed to meet you, Mrs Gordon. Ah, here come the lads again!"

The two dogs came racing back, tongues lolling.

"And did you find any signs of the child?" the Emperor asked.

Both dogs barked.

"Hmm. It seems they've come up empty, er, pawed, as it were. Dreadfully sorry, our dear." He frowned, his brow creasing. "Why, Bummer, whatever's wrong?"

The dog nosed at one of the legs of the bench upon which the humans were sitting, and gave an excited whine.

"Bummer? Why, how odd! He seems to think the child is here! And yet… well, as we can both see, there's no sign of a little girl anywhere about this bench. But come to think it…" and his frown deepened, "it's deucedly peculiar, but we traverse this fair city regularly and know every nook and cranny of her streets — and we've never known there to be a bench of any kind at this particular location. Oh!"

The last vociferation was precipitated by the fact that the wrought-iron bench moved.

The Emperor leapt to his feet, then caught Mrs Gordon by the arm and pulled her away as well. As the dogs ducked behind the old man's legs and peeked out whimpering, the two humans stared in astonishment as the bench… well, changed. It grew, both taller and narrower, the spaces between the wrought-iron scrollwork of which it was made closing up into something solid and opaque. Taller, narrower, deeper as well, until it was the size of a cabinet or wardrobe, with a pair of doors bisecting the side that was facing them.

Norton stared at the transformation in horror, having never seen such a thing happen before in his life. Lily, by contrast, gave a glad cry of recognition.

"Rosalind!"

Quickly Lily reached into her reticule and brought out a latchkey which she then fitted into the lock on the front of the wayward TARDIS. There was a click, then the door opened, brilliant light spilling out from within.

Norton's chin hit his chest. "Is… is this the entrance to Paradise?" he breathed. For within the tall cabinet was a vast chamber, much larger than the outside, brightly lit by some means that involved neither candles nor gaslight. In pride of place at the center back, just in front of another set of doors, was a six-sided table of some kind, covered over with dials and switches of all descriptions, and with an immensely tall glass column rising from its center all the way up to the impossibly high ceiling. Off to the left were a number of glass-doored storage cabinets — cabinets within a cabinet, Norton thought, wondering if those cabinets might themselves contain smaller cabinets, and those smaller ones still, like Russian babushka dolls. Over to the right stood a grouping of chairs set upon a Persian carpet, forming a cozy little parlor. And right here in front of the door was yet another riddle within this enigmatic box, for here lay a thick, substantial mattress. Of all things, a feather bed lying directly upon the floor!

And in the middle of the mattress, happily cooing as she played with her own toes…

"Suzie!"

End of Act Three