Disclaimer: Electronic Arts (EA) and American McGee hold all copyrights to American McGee's Alice
Chapter Twenty-One: Simply Smashing
"Only a few find the way; some don't recognise it when they do; some don't ever want to."
"That's better off than I am — the only things I'm recognising are myself and objects bent on killing me," I deadpanned.
"Mmm... distressing, I'm sure. There is, though, an ugly name for those who do things the hard way. All these...smoke and mirrors are merely distractions. Make like an Automaton and cannon your way through them."
"I've lost my Staff. And I still wouldn't know which direction to head in even if I did."
'AIEEEE — bzzr click.'
"What's that?" hissed Chessur.
"Can't say for sure. I came in looking for it but in the four times it's sounded I reckon I'm nowhere closer than where I've started looking."
Morphing into muscular bipedal form, Chessur swung his powerful paws at one mirror and jumped through the hole he had smashed.
"Where're you going?"
"To find the source of the sound, wise ass, it's the only chance we have of getting out of this convoluted place!"
"Usually I dislike taking chances, but in Wonderland I suppose everything goes," I muttered, stepping over the jagged glass gingerly.
Chessur was an unstoppable force, through Phantasmagoria, Automatons and mirrors alike. Kicking aside the latest mechanical casualty, he remarked, "Whatever security company the Hatter's hired, it sure is the —"
Click.
Both of us looked down at the fallen automaton. From a slot on its shoulder a brass card was poking out, one which I had never seen on the other Automatons. Easing it out, I saw engravings of eight clock faces, one with a cross over it. Turning the card around, there was a short missive at the back: 'Repair damaged (X) valve regulator'
"Valve regulator?"
"Beats me, I was never the sort who slogged it out in factories. All things reveal themselves in the end. Though, of course..." Chessur whisked the instruction card from my fingers. "I've a plan to get us to those funny regulators. It might be something..."
"Why can't I walk on walls and ceilings too? I'm obviously the one who needs more of those survival skills!"
"Firstly, you have neither the weight nor the physical adaptations. Also, someone needs to be bait for my strategy to work..." reminded Chessur, his head turned to gaze at me even as his body hung horizontally to the ceiling.
A rumbling sound echoed from the other end of the passageway.
"Ah, here comes the fish..." Chessur's body vanished from the tail, wiping out his body until only his toothy grin was left, and then even that disappeared. The automaton, upon seeing me, raised two palms. Not one to let the opponent make the first move, I blasted a concentrated jet of ice right where its crimson eyes blinked, the same time its palms hissed superheated steam that gave me a scalding caress.
Gritting my teeth against the pain, I hung back to let Chessur execute his part of the plan. Its vision obscured by a thick layer of frost, it swivelled on its base, arms whirling madly, trying to figure out where its target had vanished to.
Then Chessur appeared right behind it, card in hand, and jammed the missive into the slot amid the automaton's rabid actions. Immediately, its eyes flashed, blue instead of red.
Losing interest in attacking me, it rolled off in the opposite direction. Tagging closely behind it, we soon arrived at a large dark tunnel that we could never have found no matter how long we spent running around in that blasted mirrored maze.
However, once inside, I felt the unnatural chill that crept over me like we were descending into fog. It became colder and colder with every step we took, a cold that reached right down our throats and tore at our lungs. We barely made out the tall, dark hooded figure of the Phantasmagoria, their pain-wracked faces completely hidden.
"Chessur, quick, take care of that Phantasmagoria. I'll meet you later when this 'bot's outlived its usefulness."
"What am I, your pet?" Chessur grumbled, but he slinked forwards in the darkness. The hybrid of ghosts was fast, but Chessur was faster, and soon an anguished howl resonated through the tunnel, and my Ice Wand fed off the wraith's remains greedily, replenishing the magic within it completely.
With the lights restored, I saw that we had entered what seemed like a prison, not unlike the asylum, with unpleasantly familiar heavy-duty steel doors lining the corridor. The Automaton fed its card into the nearest door, pushing open after the card reader flashed green, and I had to hold back a gasp at the similarities.
Dirty, thin mattresses upon steel-framed beds; rotting, termite infested wooden floors and walls of rubber to prevent inmates from killing themselves too easily. But my heart hurt most when I saw the occupants of the beds: Young Oysters not more than ten years old with their limbs chained and padlocked to the bed frame, their mouths sealed tightly with duct tape, and all of the world's fear and mistrust in their eyes as they watched me and the Automaton enter.
Then the machine turned and I saw the "valve regulator": A clock, completely shattered, hung on the wall. Swiftly I threw my Jacks hard against the robot, and ran over to see what I could do for the children. I tore off the duct tape, but they managed no more than a whimper before shrinking or wriggling deep into their mattresses, shaking their heads furiously, probably thinking I was one of their tormentors and trying to block out the painful torture they expected. I now saw that their malnourished bodies were dotted with dark bruises, deep burn scars and serious cut wounds. However, the padlocks were too secure and I couldn't lessen their misery any.
"Chessur he's trapping the Oysters in these horrible cells we've gotta — "
"Do nothing. We can't," stated Chessur, almost ruthlessly. I stared at him like he'd struck me with a frying pan.
"Hey, you spent ten years in a cell and you don't seem worse for the wear! No, seriously," his tone turned sombre, seeing the grim look on my face. "All these...were commissioned and ordered by the Hatter. The two of us may fight really well, but there are just two of us against his innumerable Crystal Cyborgs and Automatons. If we rush in trying to be heroes without any planning...this could well be the end of the road for you."
"Wow. Why the sudden doom-and-gloom prediction?"
Chessur scoffed.
"Because you yourself know very well it shouldn't be, my dear girl. Of all the... well, I won't say undesirable, but rather odd characters you met in Wonderland, Tarrant was the only one you truly bonded with. You need to find out how the Red Queen has been able to corrupt him so, and I believe only you will be able to reverse those effects. With him and the victorious Whites on our side, the Resistance can finally get back on its feet."
He paused for effect.
"Mmm. I made a speech about something. It sounded very good. Really inspirational, don't you agree? But let's progress to more pressing matters. This," he said, encompassing our grim surroundings with one wave, "is one of the prison branches of the Hatter's munitions factory. These valve regulators all help to keep the gates into the factory itself securely locked, meaning our first step is to break all those clocks. The ca — "
A resounding stomping came from around the corner behind Chessur. I looked up. He turned. Four Crystal Cyborgs tramped into the room, two wielding long swords while the others had spinning blades in place of hands.
"Well, then I'm glad Tarrant's body guards are making it so easy for us."
Leaping backwards to avoid the blur of revolving death at the hand blades, I unleashed the Jacks on one blade-fisted Crystal Cyborg, using the pulsing Ice Wand to jam the whirring edges of the other, while Chessur jumped, dodged and clawed huge gashes in the sword-wielding Crystal Cyborgs.
Without the usage of his hand-blades, the remaining Crystal Cyborg I was fighting was effectively neutralised, putting up hardly any resistance as I sank the steel of my own Blade into his chest. Chessur had also fared well, suffering no more than a minor scratch along one arm where a sword or hand-blade had nicked him.
"Good job, Alice. As I was saying," continued Chessur conversationally, "that card should be able to unlock all these doors for you to break the clocks."
"Right...wait, should?"
He shrugged.
"I was hoping that Tarrant wouldn't put as much thought into planning his prisons as compared to his automatons. But don't fret. After all, what's a group of angry Crystal Cyborgs alerted by a prison alarm between ex-friends?"
"You are making me positively brim with confidence...not," I shot back as I crossed my fingers and slotted the card into the niche of another door.