THE NIGHT OF THE COLD BLUE LIGHT (part 3 of 4)
byGorgolo Chick
Antoinette had withdrawn after dinner, but Dr. Loveless and his guests were still dawdling over brandy and cigars when they were interrupted once more by one of the guards. West kept his expression politely curious when Loveless looked up in surprise.
"We seem to have another guest, gentlemen." Loveless signaled abruptly and the messenger slipped out. "Apparently this gentleman just walked up to the guard at the front door and requested to be brought to see you, Mr. West. Who do you suppose this could be?"
"Who indeed, Doctor?" West responded. He didn't have to pretend puzzlement. He'd recognized quickly enough that the man Loveless had 'detected' was not Artemus Gordon, and had been maintaining the fiction all through the drawn-out meal. He couldn't imagine why the real Gordon would now voluntarily blow his own cover.
"I suppose," Loveless was musing, "Your Colonel Richmond could have been foolish enough to send someone else when he realized Mr. Gordon was in danger of falling into the trap I so carefully crafted."
"No, Doctor, I assure you, he wouldn't. Besides, why would another agent announce himself in this manner?"
Dr. Loveless chuckled. "Oh, I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation. Why, I assure you, the charms of my humble abode are such that anyone hanging about outside is sure to find the allure quite irresistible."
West gazed at the amused little dwarf and felt a chill. It was plain, now, that there was another trap he'd not even suspected. If so, his partner might well have fallen into it, after all.
The door to the dining room opened again, and a man he'd recently met stepped through.
"You!" Dr. Loveless' laughter vanished. "What? Where is your brother? The rest of your family? Why have you come here?"
"You might ask him which one of the twins he is," West suggested, being deliberately unhelpful to cover his own confusion.
"I have no brother, nor any close living family." The voice was devastatingly familiar. "I have come here to rescue Senator Long and to stop whatever scheme you are working on."
"Artemus Gordon?" Loveless clearly recognized the voice also. "Artemus Gordon!" He whirled back to face West and his companion. "Then who is this man here?"
"That man is Jacamo, a cousin to Guillermo, who volunteered to pretend to be me pretending to be a member of Guillermo's family."
"Very clever, indeed." Loveless was calming down again. "Your little double-blind scheme almost worked, too. Unfortunately for you, I was prepared for the unexpected to chance. You," he gazed up with a snarl into Gordon's face. "You just stand right there and be quiet until I'm ready for you." He turned toward the door and signaled. The guard who had brought Gordon in immediately joined him. He held a quiet conference with the man, then sent him away again.
Gordon stood unmoving; he made no effort to meet a furtive look from West. He was behaving exactly like the guards – as if he had no will of his own.
"Well, Mr. West, my compliments. You were very subtle about not letting on that this 'Jacamo' man was not our dear friend Mr. Gordon."
"Thank you, Doctor." West forced himself back into the utmost of social manners. "Although I must admit that even I was temporarily deceived."
"Yes, under normal circumstances, Artemus Gordon is a most competent master of deception. It really is too bad all his clever trickery was for naught. But then, I really do not intend to be beaten by the pair of you again." He paused, then waved a hand in the air carelessly. "But more of this anon. I believe your escort should be…" The door opened again. "Yes, here they are now." He turned toward the nearest. "You will take these three men to Mr. West's suite. And you," he turned to speak directly to Gordon. "You will remove all elements of disguise from both yourself and this gypsy fellow. You will then give your clothing, all weapons and any other devices you may have about your person, as well as those of Mr. West, to this man. You will both be provided with appropriate clothing. The three of you will remain in that suite until I send for you."
Gordon turned to follow his orders, and West and Jacamo could only acquiesce to Loveless' demands.
Once they were in the suite, with the guards standing quietly by the door, West confronted his partner.
"Artemus, what's going on with you?" he demanded.
"I…" he seemed to waver. "I came to help you escape." He met West's gaze blankly. Then he turned away to the side table that stood nearby, with a bowl and pitcher on it, as well as a pile of towels. He peeled away the elements of his disguise and then began to wash his face. West just watched for several moments.
"Well, this isn't exactly helping." He grabbed Gordon's shoulder and forced him to face him. Gordon continued wiping the soap and makeup from his face.
"How could you just give yourself up to Loveless? West demanded.
"I don't know." Gordon waved Jacamo over. Jacamo gave West a worried look, and when he received a shrug and a nod, he went to Gordon to have the remains of his own disguise removed. "It was the quickest way to find you," Gordon added.
"Yeah, but you haven't exactly done either of us much good here, now have you?" West's worry was filling him with anger. His partner's behavior was more than disturbing; it was frightening. "Couldn't you think of any better way to find me than that?" he demanded.
"I meant to. But then I realized it would be easier to just come in. Give me your clothes and weapons, Jim." Gordon undid his neckerchief and removed his shirt.
"Arte, you are not seriously going to give away any little advantage we may still have left, are you?" West watched his partner pile his clothing neatly, and lay several formerly concealed items on top.
"We have to do as Loveless said," Gordon told him in a reasonable tone.
"Loveless' men have already taken my guns and knife," West responded cautiously.
"Dr. Loveless instructed that all weapons and our clothing be turned over to him. We must do so." Gordon stepped up to West and tugged insistently at his jacket.
"Why would he want out clothes?" West shrugged out of the jacket.
"I would assume because of the many devices for defense and escape built into them." Gordon remained dully logical as he folded the garment and started a second pile.
"You wouldn't fight me to get me to do as Dr. Loveless instructed, surely," West asked in experiment.
"I couldn't beat you in a fair fight, and I wouldn't want to even if I could," Gordon admitted. "That's probably why he sent those guards over there. Anyway, he didn't tell me I was to force you."
"No, Artemus, I guess he didn't. Well, if you insist, I suppose I'll just have to do as you wish." He matched his actions to his words.
"I don't wish for either of us to help Dr. Loveless in any way," Gordon informed him. "I would very much like to get you and me out of here, but…" a crease appeared between Gordon's brows. "I'd like to… I can't…" He shook his head and blinked at West. Slowly his mouth dropped open in obvious shock.
"Arte? Are you all right?" West grasped his partner's arm firmly.
"I," he bowed his head and pressed his hand to his forehead. "My God, Jim, what have I done?" he moaned.
West watched in silence as one of the guards took away their property. "I'm not sure how he did it, Arte, but I think somehow Loveless must have drugged you with something that suppresses the will. I think he uses it on all of his guards."
"Drugged?" Gordon lifted his head. "But how… Oh no!" His eyes widened. "Guillermo's people, Jim. What if he drugged the supper? Do you suppose this stuff might stop them getting away?"
"I don't know, I think it depends. Did they need to break themselves out?"
"No, no, Jim, they set out a pretty good while before I started feeling – and behaving – strangely."
"Then my guess would be they should be okay. Whatever it was doesn't seem to have maintained its grip on you for very long. I'd guess even if it caused them to turn back, they can't have made it back here yet. And presumably it's worn off or is wearing off for them, the same as for you."
"Lord, I hope so." Gordon leaned close and spoke sotto voce, "Because Senator Long left with them."
"Unfortunately," West kept his own voice at a normal level, audible to the guards by the door. "As much of a relief as your return to normal is, Artemus, I'm afraid we're still stuck with having to give up our clothing and weapons. Because I don't think the good doctor's guards are going to change their minds about enforcing his order." He nodded his head at another guard who had appeared with fresh clothing for them.
Gordon looked over his shoulder then back at West. "It sure looks that way." He paused. "Hey, look, Jim. I'm awfully sorry about blowing this case the way I have."
"Come on, Arte, You're not to blame and you know it. We're just going to have to play this one with the cards we've been dealt. And we may as well start by doing as we've been told."
The clothing that had been provided for them had clearly been chosen with care. For West there was a close-fitted suit in a vivid shade of blue, complete with a bolero jacket. Gordon had been provided a flashier suit in burgundy with a gold shirt more heavily ruffled than West's. In fact, while West's outfit was nearly identical to what he'd been wearing before, Gordon's was much like what he was wont to wear to a dinner party.
"Pretty fancy duds there, Artemus," West commented.
"Yes, well." Gordon studied their reflections in the mirror. "I suppose its simply a matter of recognizing a true gentleman."
West shared a grin with him, glad to see the recovery of humor.
Gordon was talking with Jacamo when the door opened. Another of the zombie guards spoke quietly to those already present. Then he turned to the three prisoners. He pointed to Jacamo.
"You," he told him, "Will accompany this man." As he spoke a second guard stepped forward.
At a nod from Gordon, the gypsy man obeyed.
The 'lead' guard turned to West and Gordon. "You two men are to come with me." He turned away. The remaining guards made up an escort for the duo.
It didn't ease West's tension when they were shown into the strange sitting room where he had first met with Dr. Loveless that afternoon. Gordon peered into the pit and gave an exaggerated shudder.
"Nice," he commented. "The décor could stand some improvement."
"But Mr. Gordon," Dr. Loveless had been seated in a high back chair on the far side of the pit, atop a dais. It was on some mechanism that allowed the entire chair to turn silently about. "Surely you don't disapprove of my little game room?"
"Well, Doctor," Gordon hooked one thumb in his vest pocket and rubbed a finger down the side of his nose. "I really must admit, I find it not to be in the very best of taste to receive guests in this manner." He cast a sideways glance at West.
"But surely it is only right to receive one's dearest friends in one's favorite room? And one's dearest enemies even more so? By the way, Mr. Gordon, speaking of friends…" He paused, making them wait for it. "Those bothersome gypsy friends of yours made good their escape. I'm sure that makes you terribly happy. I did consider sending men after them, just to teach you a lesson about bringing outsiders into our tight-knit family, but it simply wasn't worth putting my men out for, in the end. Particularly since my one actually invited guest, other than Mr. West of course," He smirked. "Dear Senator Long was so happily and contentedly ensconced in his private quarters. He assured me he hadn't been disturbed by anyone, so I didn't want a hunt creating a ruckus and annoying him."
"Did you think to ask him whether or not he was annoyed by being forced to stay here when he has so many duties elsewhere?" West asked.
Loveless waved off the comment. He cast his eye instead on Gordon. "In the interest of scientific research, Mr. Gordon, I don't suppose you would be willing to describe for me your experience under the influence of my mind controlling invention?"
Gordon gaped. "Invention?" he finally asked, his voice weak with the surprise that West was feeling as well. "I thought… how?"
"Don't tell me you imagined that wonderful effect to have been the result of some mere drug? Have you no imagination?" Loveless smiled at their confoundment. "No indeed! What you have experienced, and you, West, witnessed in your friend is the will-numbing power I now have at my command. A refinement of a peculiar side-effect I noticed upon my assistants while I was developing my lovely blue electric candle."
West glanced at his partner. Gordon's lips were pressed into a thin, grim line as Loveless continued his unfeeling lecture on whatever it was that had caused his temporary mindless state.
"It is in part based on auditory principles, you see," the doctor continued. "I realized that in working to eliminate the considerable noise produced by the operation of my original electric candle, I had actually pushed the signal up into a range beyond conscious awareness. Much like the sound of a dog whistle used by huntsmen." Loveless brought his hands up in before him slowly as he spoke, pressing the fingertips together. "I then took what I've learned over the years about the operation of the will of the average human. Sounds can have a strong effect, you see. And I've refined it beyond that – I have been able to modify the equipment into a device that broadcasts a vibration through the aether that subtly numbs the will." He dropped his hands and leaned forward to address them more directly.
"The path was not without its stumbling points," he assured them. "Through my research, I attempted to make the effect more immediate. After various experiments, I had to accept that rushing the process only results in utter destruction of the mind. I'm afraid my test subjects lost all ability to operate or take care of themselves." He leaned back again. "All indications are that this does not result from long-term exposure, fortunately. The result there is simply that the destruction of the will becomes permanent, and the subject's mind comes to be tied to the one outside influence they have been trained to respond to."
Loveless fell silent; he seemed to be letting them digest the information he'd give them. Finally, he chuckled and added another thought. "Just imagine, gentlemen, the results when I have developed my device and set them up in large cities, such as New Orleans. Or perhaps Washington D.C." He smiled and settled back comfortably in his seat. "Peace to all men, heh?
"In case you're wondering, the prototype of this magnificent device is the main line of defense for my plantation, here. My guards are excellent examples of the long-term effects. And you, Mr. Gordon, made a fine demonstration of the powerful but temporary short-term effects.
"And I might add; Senator Long is rapidly approaching, although he has not yet reached, the cutoff point. If only you had succeeded, Mr. Gordon, you would have been able to save him. Within the next twenty-four hours, however, the cumulative effect will cause the permanent change which will render him forever subject to my will, and my will alone."
Then he smiled in a manner West did not find reassuring, and asked, "I don't suppose I could persuade you to assist me with extending my experiments, Mr. West? You see, this house is insulated against the waves broadcast by my device, and I had the equipment turned off to enable your arrival undisturbed. I would very much like to see what differences one would see when a man of your remarkable strength of will is subjected to the influence." He paused with a sneer. "I had rather hoped Mr. Gordon would provide some data, but he seems to be sadly lacking in your sterling qualities. Pity."
West kept the shudder that thought elicited suppressed deep within himself. He knew Artemus Gordon far better than did Dr. Loveless. If what Loveless said was true, Arte shouldn't have fallen under the will-control nearly so easily as he had.
"Somehow, Dr. Loveless," he forced himself to respond with solemn courtesy. "I simply cannot see myself voluntarily assisting you with anything but taking up permanent residence in a maximum security Federal penitentiary."
Loveless rose to his feet and strolled to the low railing that separated the dais from the edge of the pit.
"It seems that I cannot reach an accommodation with you two," he said with mock gravity. "Sometimes I really am at my wit's end what to do. I must admit, the entire situation between you and myself has been very troubling."
"You know, Doctor Loveless," West responded. "I've noticed the same thing. But what can you do?" He shrugged elaborately.
"That's just it," Loveless grinned at him. "I have had a magnificent epiphany on the subject. A way of looking at and dealing with the problem of our relationship that should resolve it once and for all, and very much to my personal satisfaction."
He stood silently watching them for several moments. Then he laid each hand deliberately on the rail before him and leaned toward them.
"It seems such an obvious solution, now. You, Mr. Gordon, I despise. You are an honorable man and an unbearable Goody-Two-Shoes. You have repeatedly misused a perfectly good talent for the con to confound my glorious plans, and you cheerfully accept the plebian lifestyle of a secret service agent when you have the tastes of a dilettante.
"You, however, Mr. West…"
"Let me guess, Dr. Loveless. You find my jaunty savior-faire endears me to you despite all our differences."
"No, Mr. West. I hate you. I find that the only thing I want more in the world than to destroy you is to find a way to make you suffer. You are of such a pure and gallant heart that you make the insufferable Mr. Gordon look like a snake in the grass."
"Now that's low," Gordon drawled softly.
"The only thing I hate more about you than about your partner, Mr. Gordon, is your tongue. He can be and usually is wretchedly cheeky, but your slanderous ways with the English language are intolerable!"
"You're pure, gallant and cheeky, but I'm unbearable, insufferable and intolerable." Gordon smiled at West.
"Don't forget honorable," West pointed out.
"True, but on reflection that one became 'snake in the grass', so it cancels out."
"I think perhaps the one thing I have always hated most about the two of you together is your impertinent insistence upon making an entertainment out of every encounter we have. Still, gentlemen, I am not without a sense of humor myself, and I realize that there is no profit in fighting the inevitable."
Gordon reached up to casually scratch his cheek and, as his hand concealed his lips from Dr. Loveless' view, muttered to West, "He's developed a sense of humor and decided not to fight the inevitable? I don't think we're going to like this."
"And thus, as I said, gentlemen, I have reached what I now realize should always have been an obvious solution to the annoying flea-bites which are you and your hounding of me.
"Simply put, we are going to have an entertainment which I shall orchestrate. A very special entertainment, indeed." Dr. Loveless clasped his hands behind him and began to slowly pace the length of the dais. He took on a solemn, calm aspect. "Tell me, now, Mr. West." He began in a serious tone. "What would you say is my ultimate goal in dealing with you? To kill you?"
West's eyes narrowed at this change in attitude. "Actually, Doctor, I would say you're more interested in humiliating me," he answered slowly. He glanced at Gordon, who raised one eyebrow and shook his head cautiously.
"Oh, splendid." Dr. Loveless grinned widely at him. "Then we do understand one another." He placed his hands on the railing and leaned toward the two agents. "However, I have been going about it in the wrong way all this time. I have attempted in the past to defeat you, to humiliate you, by attacking your person directly." He turned away and resumed his pacing. "At such times," he made a broad gesture with one almost normal-sized hand, "you somehow exhibit a lack of self-interest which is most peculiar and frustrating. I have cracked the key to your ego, however, Mr. West. I now know what it takes to not only humiliate you, but to break you utterly. And do you know how I intend to do that? Well you may ask."
West murmured a soft aside to Gordon. "Don't ask. He'll tell us quicker if we ignore him."
Gordon nodded, yawned and turned his gaze toward the paintings at the side of the room.
Loveless saw their attention appear to wander, and chuckled. "Oh no, gentlemen. I have become accustomed to that trick. I know you are overwhelmed with curiosity. And maybe a little bit of good old-fashioned concern. You can't very well help wanting to know what it is that I intend to do to you this time." Suddenly he began to giggle. "It is quite simple. I intend to keep my earlier promise, Mr. West, and do absolutely nothing to you. Nothing except make you sit here quietly and enjoy my little entertainment.
"And that entertainment shall be…" he paused, watching their faces, then began to laugh uproariously. "This really is most amusing." He leaned closer again, watching West avidly. "You see," he continued in a confiding tone, "I very specifically warned in my note to your superiors that my promise of amnesty did not extend to the safety of anyone but you who was so foolish as to be caught on my property."
West's eyes opened wider a fraction, and the muscles of his face tightened. In response to these slight movements, Dr. Loveless smiled and nodded his head.
"Of course, I insisted that you not be told my full demands, because I was quite sure you would see my little trap. As I promised, you are safe. Your partner is not; I even practically warned them that he would suffer my wrath if he appeared."
"A warning which you made sure I didn't receive." West's voice had taken on a lower tone and a quieter delivery. "That hardly seems sporting." He kept his eyes on his opponent even as he heard a soft murmur from Gordon.
"Easy, Jim."
Dr. Loveless' face seemed to knot up and his teeth clenched as he uttered a wordless sound part like the growl of an angry beast and only part a human exclamation. "Oh, so now I'm to do your thinking for you? I'm to be sure and treat you fairly in all our dealings? Just as you've always treated me, I suppose, spoiling all my lovely plans, using your strong, healthy young body to make me seem small and weak and foolish again and again." His voice rose an octave as he spoke.
Then he paused, closed his eyes and placed his hands, palms together, before his face. He drew a slow, quivering breath and relaxed his face. "No, no, Mr. West," he continued in a normal tone again. "After all, it is your job and Mr. Gordon's to risk life and limb in the line of duty. Why, I thought the two of you reveled in taking chances. Surely you didn't think you'd have everything your own way forever? Now it's my turn to call the tune." He squared his shoulders and thrust out his chest to face the two of them from a peremptory pose.
"I intend to make you sit here quite helplessly and watch while my men take Mr. Gordon downstairs into that pit and torture him. Maybe I'll have them kill him, maybe I won't. But even if I do, it won't be for a very long time."
West suppressed a sudden surge of fear that would have more than satisfied Loveless had he known of it. He flickered a sideways glance at his partner, although he couldn't bear to meet his eyes. Gordon had paled slightly, but his jaw was set defiantly, and West could imagine the coldness of the gaze directed at their tormentor.
"In fact, now that I consider the matter a bit more," Loveless continued as he turned away, hand on elbow, rubbing his jaw with the other. "I believe I want him left very much alive. I'll just have them maim and cripple him. That way, you'll have to live with his ongoing suffering and your impotence in his time of need for the rest of your life.
"Oh, yes, I do like that thought.
"Why, in honor of our long association I might for once set aside my dislike of noise and crude physical scuffling, and take part in the activity my very own self. Would you like to see that, Mr. West? Would you like to watch my small, weak hands destroying the strong, vibrant body of your dearest friend and partner, and all because of you?" He turned to stare avidly at the two of them, standing side-by-side facing him in almost identical postures of defiance.
Loveless clapped his hands together twice. "Arrange them!" he ordered. He began to giggle again, and it slowly built to a maniacal crescendo of laughter as several armed men appeared and encircled them. Four handed their weapons to their companions, and a pair approached each agent.
Loveless' laughter died away, and the scene took on a surreal, almost ceremonial air. With so many guns trained on them from different angles, they were forced to submit quietly. And yet, the gunmen's faces held no threat. They simply performed their tasks silently and surely. Gordon's guards each took a firm grip on one of his arms and held him while West was escorted to a large, heavy wooden chair overlooking the pit, with thick leather straps on the arms and back.
When they tried to force him to sit, he suddenly resisted, flinging them both from him. But before he could even begin to make another move he heard the click of hammers being pulled back and three men stepped forward to press their gun barrels to his partner's head.
"Come, now, Mr. West. You and I both know perfectly well that your sense of optimism will prevent you from forcing my men to kill Mr. Gordon immediately. Of course, if they were to do so, it would save him a lifetime of suffering, but neither of you really believes at this point that you cannot escape me unscathed. That being the case, why don't you sit down like a good boy and let the gentlemen make you comfortable.
"Meanwhile," his tone became clipped, "take Mr. Gordon below, and prepare him."
West and Gordon exchanged a look of confidence, and each yielded to the guidance of his guards.
West settled into the chair and turned his focus to a study of his guards as they buckled the straps. Their zombie-like demeanor had given him an idea, and he decided now was the best time to try the experiment. He cast a glance across the pit at Loveless. The little man was avidly watching for the appearance of his victim. West decided to make full use of the opportunity. "That's a very nice job," he said, modulating the volume of his voice but keeping the tone firm. "Now release me and return to your quarters," he commanded.
"That won't do you any good, Mr. West." Dr. Loveless met his lifted eyes. "They are all quite thoroughly indoctrinated to obey only my commands. You do guess rightly that someone simply under the influence will do whatever anyone tells them to, but of course that also leaves them open to having that obedience molded by a stronger will, and I assure you, my will is very strong."
"There is certainly no doubt of that, Doctor," West agreed. "It takes a strong will to survive again and again disasters that would kill a lesser man."
"Quite right, Mr. West. Now, why don't we go about seeing how strong a will and a survival instinct your dear friend has."
Below, Gordon and his guards had entered the pit. It became clear that Dr. Loveless had choreographed at least the first steps of the procedure ahead of time. Without a word from above, the blank-faced men efficiently striped Gordon down to his trousers. They even removed his boots. Then they hustled him over to a table-like device of ominous form.
When they started to lift him, Gordon shook free. "Thank you very much," he said, "but I can do it myself." Before they could lay their hands on him again, he hopped up to sit on the metal-banded wooden surface.
"Very good, Mr. Gordon," Dr. Loveless commented. "Do enjoy the ability to move freely under your own power while you still can."
Gordon swung his feet up onto the table. While the guards were securing his bare ankles in solid-looking iron cuffs, he snapped off a mock salute, directed, directed at his tormenter. "We who are about to die," he intoned.
"I appreciate your sense of the dramatic," Loveless responded. "It does help set the stage nicely for things to come." He looked across the pit at West. "Come Mr. West, have you comment to make regarding my carefully arranged entertainment?"
"Well, the only one who's shown me anything is Artemus, and he already knows how much I admire him."
Loveless frowned. "Yes, yes, I know, courageous in peril," he replied. "Why don't we wait and see how long his courage holds up once the fun really begins?"
Gordon lay flat and allowed his guards to pull his hands above his head. The cuffs they snapped around his wrists were attached to chains, which in turn were wound around a large spool-like mechanism with spokes at each end like two ship's wheels.
The spool was rotated until the chains were tight enough to prevent him from Then the guards stepped back and stood quietly.
"I really would have expected something a little more sophisticated than the rack," Gordon commented. "It's so… medieval."
"Yes, a rather prosaic device on the face of it, I'll admit," Loveless agreed. "But so very effective. And as we go along I think you'll come to agree that the modifications I've made have brought it right into the nineteenth century." He raised his head to look across at West. "Now, forgive me if I digress into basics which we all understand, but I want to be sure you appreciate every nuance."
"You needn't bother on my account," West told him.
"Nor mine," Gordon added.
Loveless ignored both comments. "We begin, of course, with the human body apparently at full extension," he explained. "The interesting thing is that when we," he raised his voice slightly, "tighten the wheel a notch, and another…"
The nearest guard stepped forward and did precisely that.
"The body is pulled into a further stretch without any noticeable difficulty for the subject, although I'm sure there must be some increase in discomfort."
"Not so I've noticed," Gordon spoke again.
"Give me time, my dear Artemus Gordon, give me time. A proper progression must be followed. And soon we'll have you singing a very different tune.
"Of course, Mr. West," he continued, "I could simply have the wheel tightened right up immediately, until Artemus' body disjoints at the shoulders, the hips, the elbows and knees, the wrists and ankles; until the spine is extended, pouring exquisite agony out between each vertebra as they are drawn apart. And then the flesh gives way and your dearest friend and partner is torn limb from limb."
"But of course you would never do that; it wouldn't be any fun."
Loveless chuckled. "No, indeed. Especially after I've promised you an extended entertainment."
"Ah well then, perhaps you will do me the favor of having those men release the chains."
"How very droll I find you, Mr. West. I'm sure I've mentioned that before, have I not?"
"You've said something to the effect. The fact remains that I am not finding any of this the least bit amusing."
"Oh, so now it is time for you to turn into an old poop and try to spoil my enjoyment. But you shall not succeed this time. I have no fear whatsoever that you might break free. You are quite stripped of all those ingenious little devices of yours. And you are also quite utterly immobilized. However, if you continue in your rudeness, I might just have to have you gagged. You know, it won't interfere, really, with the procedure." Loveless gazed across the pit for long moments. "Ah, but I can see from your face that you won't force me to do that. You want to retain any little bit of freedom you can. Ever the optimist."
"As you say, doctor." West bowed to the extent that his bonds would allow.
"Now, we commence that sequence of events I just described, although at a much, much slower pace." He leaned forward to call to his men below. "One notch per minute for the nonce. And you may begin at once."
The guard at the wheel pulled on it, and West saw the muscles of Gordon's throat jump and cord. The torture, he recognized, was well and truly begun. And he could think of no way to stop it.
Minute by minute the barrel rotated by tiny degrees and the chain tightened. First a fine sheen of sweat broke out on Gordon's face, as his teeth clenched tightly, and across his body. Soon this turned to rivulets.
"Enough!" Loveless commanded. "Look at him, Mr. West. Every muscle and tendon stretched almost to the breaking point. Right now, your friend is becoming intimately familiar with nerve-endings he never knew existed. And every one of them is screaming a most horrible manner." He paused. "Rather disappointing that he refuses to follow suit."
"I'm sure he's just trying to be considerate." West was forcing his calm with every fiber of his being. "We both know how averse you are to loud noises." If Gordon could control himself under such torment, West was determined not to let his friend down. Loveless might guess at the mental distress he was causing, but he would not have even one modicum of the satisfaction seeing it would give him.
"Yes, I see. Well, perhaps I can yet persuade him to sing us a little tune."
Loveless extended his arm over the pit, his flat hand facing palm upward. The second guard stepped to the side of the rack, and reached under it to make some adjustment. As Dr. Loveless' hand slowly rose to the vertical, so did the major components of the torture device.
"Do you remember, dear Mr. West, how it was your friend put paid, at least temporarily, to my lovely scheme for raiding a territorial penitentiary, the Federal arms depot at Tyler, and the sub-treasury bullion reserves, all at the same time?"
"Certainly. It was at the Territorial communications center in Junction City. He shorted out the power to the telegraph equipment so you couldn't contact your teams to give them the go-ahead."
"Indeed he did. But be more precise. Just how did he go about shorting the system out? Surely you haven't forgotten?"
The image came all to readily to mind. Dr. Loveless had them disarmed and helpless under the gun of his current prize student, the beautiful Belladonna, while he gleefully laid out the fullness of his current ambition. Gordon had been standing beside West, and the machinery that provided the electrical current used to send messages all over from that central hub was humming at their backs. Gordon had meekly interrupted Loveless.
"It looks very much like we've lost," he had admitted. "And, as my Great Aunt Maude always said,"
The mention of Great Aunt Maude had instantly put West at the ready. Quoting his fictitious relative in such circumstances was always a signal to alertness.
"She said, 'Artemus, if you can't win the game,"
He was planning drastic measures.
"The next best thing is to upset the chess board."
With that Gordon had thrown himself backward, smashing into the machinery and setting off a shower of sparks and electrical arcs. West had leapt forward to snatch the gun away, and as quickly back again to jerk Gordon free of the machinery. When Loveless snarled "He's dead, I hope," West had momentarily feared it was true, but Gordon had fumbled for some support, proving their enemy's hopes in vain.
"You were too preoccupied with harassing me to notice," Dr. Loveless informed him, "but my brain is ever on the alert for new and interesting phenomena. In that moment when the electrical current was coursing through his body, Mr. Gordon displayed the affect of a man in terrible pain. And even as you and I dueled over what outcome we would see to our contest, the ever-present scientist in my mind was making note of the lingering distress he evinced."
"Electricity has always been a favorite toy of yours," West noted.
"Tool, my dear friend, electricity is a tool of such monstrous power that only a genius such as I could ever hope to harness it to my will."
The best way to give Gordon a break was to distract Loveless with his own brilliance. West wasn't about to let slip the opportunity to prolong the distraction. "Thus the light."
"Yes, as you say, thus the light." Loveless smiled.
"Which could be of so much benefit to mankind." This was the other bolt that always went home; challenging Loveless' use of his undoubted genius.
"Which mankind wouldn't even be able to appreciate. Far less the multitude of other uses I've already dreamt of."
"We're in an age of scientific and industrial advances. I'd say there's been a pretty good acceptance of all that."
"Pah, a blind grasping at improvements on established methods. I'm talking about a whole new way of doing practically everything." Loveless paused, then grinned widely. "Why, Mr. West, I do believe you're trying to delay my little show. That's very naughty of you, you know. But interestingly enough, you've not drawn me so very far yet from my chosen direction. For you see, I'm ready to demonstrate another ingenious use of electricity I've discovered. And our friend down below will help me with that demonstration. Now please observe." He gestured into the pit. "The platform on which Mr. Gordon was lying, against which he is now standing, if you will, is banded with iron. Iron, of course, is a great conductor of electrical current, as is water. And as is also human flesh, although not so much as the others. But that little lack is easily remedied." He leaned forward to call another directive to his mind puppets. "Water. Be sure he is thoroughly wet."
The man who had manned the wheel moved to a dim corner of the pit, and returned immediately with a large bucket in each hand. He set one down and lifted the other over Gordon's head.
Gordon had his eyes closed, and his head was propped back against the platform behind him. He breathed in deep gasps. When the man tilted the bucket and water caught him in the face, his first reaction was to jerk his head to the side, coughing out the fluid that had entered his open mouth. With the second bucket he faced back into the stream, letting it wash the sweat away and cool his overheated body.
From the conversation that had come before, West was pretty sure he knew what came next. Evidently, his partner had been preoccupied with his short reprieve, and had not listened to them. Or maybe Gordon was simply being rational and making the most of the temporary relief even though he knew it was leading up to more suffering.
Whatever the truth was, Gordon seemed engrossed in the process of wetting him down. When it was done, however, he shook the water from his eyes and focused a hard stare up a Loveless. He didn't speak, but his defiance was obvious.
In that moment, West let himself relax enough that he knew his pride in his partner's fortitude showed in his face.
"Oh," Loveless whined in frustration. "You can look smug if you like, Mr. West. I believe I can soon wipe that smugness from your face. And the insolence from yours, Mr. Gordon. Give him a level four for three seconds!"
Gordon's eyes flew wide open and his taut-stretched body seemed to vibrate like a plucked bowstring. For three seconds his hard tremble continued, then his head sagged forward with a whimper.
"You know, Mr. West, that a strong current is a fatal as a lightening strike. I've discovered that a weaker current, properly modulated, can give a great deal of pain without doing physical damage – or at least not much. Now, I've just had Mr. Gordon hit with a rather high setting to, shall we say, wake him up? And you will note that as long as the current runs, the pain continues. Rather like the lash of a whip that can continue its impact for as long as the one applying it desires. Of course, this causes muscular convulsions that could do considerable damage, but I think that's an acceptable risk. Now, let's see what happens when we apply a somewhat less extreme level. I believe you'll be surprised with the results." Loveless leaned forward again. "Give him one second at level one."
Artemus Gordon screamed.
Afterwards, silence engulfed the pit and the room above it.
Dr. Loveless was smiling widely with bared teeth, and staring across the pit at West.
West struggled within himself, and met Loveless' gaze with as bland an expression as he could manage. He beat down his torrential emotions as fury, horror and grief shook his core. He knew he had failed to hide his reaction even before Loveless began to dance about and laugh maniacally.
Loveless stopped suddenly, rushed to the edge of the pit, and cried out, "Again, hit him again!"
Gordon's next scream crumbled into a sob of struggle for self-control. At the edge of his vision, West could see the madman's jig continue, but he could no longer pull his eyes from the figure below. The expression on Gordon's face was surprisingly familiar, although he knew he'd never seen it there before. It took another scream, with the accompanying thrashing of the head, to bring the memory into sudden sharp focus. The only time he'd seen a man in this sort of enduring agony was during the war, when he'd been called upon to help hold down a man who was having a leg amputated by a less-than-skilled field surgeon. That had taken a terrible eternity, and he'd been able to do nothing to ease that poor bastard, either.
Even when the unblinking stare made his vision blur over, giggling shouts of 'again' that were answered by uncontrolled screams bombarded him.
Then the screaming stopped.
West blinked rapidly and shook his head to clear his vision. Below, Gordon's head hung limply forward. As he looked, Dr. Loveless, who had stopped laughing, shouted. "Increase to level two! One second!"
Gordon's muscles jumped, but otherwise he didn't respond.
"Oh!" Loveless stamped his foot. His voice rose steadily in pitch as he shouted, "Darn, darn, darn! He's lost consciousness already! He wasn't supposed to do that!" He looked across to meet West's gaze of smoldering anger. "I suppose this is your fault. I'm used to dealing with you more so than Mr. Gordon. You would certainly have been able to withstand a higher setting, and for much longer. It seems your friend just isn't as tough as you. What a disappointment." Loveless paused. His hand came up to rub his chin. "Unless… Yes, I suppose he might somehow have managed to hide some sort of chemical about him to cause unconsciousness. Still, how disappointing that he would use such a cowardly escape." He looked down into the pit. "Open the main switch, return the rack to horizontal and release the excess tension. You two," he glared across at West, or at least at his guards. "Take our guest to his suite and release him there, but be sure to lock him in. Do not let him leave without my orders."
As the guards began removing the straps, Loveless again addressed himself to West. "The situation with the Senator, of course, remains the same, my old friend. Furthermore, should you 'make a break' on the way to your quarters, I will have Mr. Gordon shot dead immediately."
"Understood, doctor," West responded. "And of course, if I don't have proof, and quickly, that Mr. Gordon is still alive…"
"Yes, I'm sure your vengeance will be very terrible. And yet as long as you believe you will get your chance to rescue him, you will allow me to set the rules. And you will allow me to torture him horribly. I find that terribly amusing, don't you?"
"I'm afraid I can't agree with you on that, doctor."
Loveless responded by going into another jig and giggle fit. "Oh, do be careful, Mr. West. Your veneer of civilization is wearing thin. I do believe I see hate in your eyes."
West felt he couldn't answer without giving Loveless more satisfaction, so he turned and strode quietly to the door. The cackle of the tiny wizard followed him out.
TBC