Episode CLXVII - Introspections, Part III

Doctor Barkham had had a frustrating time since she entered the obelisk.  Firstly she had found herself alone in the midst of a maze which seemed specially designed just to annoy her, all short corridors and and endless succession of geometrically impossible corners.  To make matters worse there were obstacles thrown up in her course to slow down any progress she might have been making - walls which appeared out of nowhere, pitfalls which opened up beneath her feat only to dump her back in a place which, for all intents and purposes, was where she had started and clues which led around in circles as if placed there deliberately by some trickster.  By the time the Former Baron appeared to add insult to her injury, she was thoroughly fed up.

"Oh my," he had said as he turned one corner and she the other to find themselves at opposite ends of the short stretch of meaningless corridor.

"Brilliant," she had replied acidly, "the day just gets better."

"I was thinking much the same thing myself," the rambling old Philosopher replied.

Doctor Barkham sniffed, arms folded in front of her, then let out a sigh.  "I don't suppose you've had any more luck figuring this place out, have you?"

"None whatsoever," the Former Baron replied with one of his irritating, thin smiles, "but it brightens my day to know that you're getting no further than I am."

She allowed herself her own, cruel smile as the thought of snapping his spindly neck crossed her mind in quick flashes, but she knew she would get further towards her own goals with his help than without, so she lowered her hands to her sides, smoothed her skirt and attempted to be civil.

"Perhaps we'll achieve more together," she said calmly.

"Oh, I doubt it," Von Spektr said with a sudden, cracked laugh, "but it's not like I've got anything better to do.  Oh, no, no, no!"

The image of his brittle frame shattering like the stem of a wine glass flashed across her mind once more and, irritated, she pushed it away.

"Lead on, then," she said instead and then watched as the old man strolled past her down the corridor the very way she had just come.

She was further irritated when she rounded the corner after him only to find a room which had not been there before.  It was filled with switches and pulleys and, at the far end, clearly operated by some or all of those mechanisms, an impressive looking door.

"Looks like we have a puzzle to solve," the Former Baron said with just a hint of glee.

"Indeed," she replied drily, "but let's not take all day about it."

She was already trying to fathom out the mechanism, following it from where it lifted the door locks up to the ceiling and then through an incredible number of pulleys, gears, flywheels and- just staring at it made her feel dizzy, and she was one of the greatest minds in the world.

Stop, she thought, take it in piece by piece, do it logically, just like everything else in your life.

And it was true, she had done everything according to the logic of her own self-importance, manipulating her older sister Yvette so that she would take the adventuring risks she so enjoyed, increasing the odds of the inheritance landing solely in Rosetta's lap, which it did, on the day she had appointed, through the clever use of a few inflammatory letters 'accidentally' left  in a place where a visiting nobleman, known both for his paranoia and his penchant for exotic poisons, should see it with plenty of time to prepare himself for dinner.  It had been the same story with her studies, always making sure that she had the best resources to hand, eliminating rivals like the annoying, buzzing insects they were.

An entire career had been built on being the best, or, if that weren't possible, becoming the best by eliminating the competition and internalising all their resources.  One way or another, she had got where she was today through the skills she had and the same, implacable logic

She turned that terrible mental force on the problem at hand, only vaguely aware of the Former Baron moving around the room, caressing sections of clockwork and sniffing at levers.  Instead she examined the complex mechanical pathways available to her, followed each switching point towards it's conclusion and saw the various traps that would be activated with a reckless decision.  That one leading towards a section of capped-off piping in the wall would probably flood the room with acid, or some kind of noxious gas.  The one leading towards the rear of the chamber would seal the entrance and crush them beneath the the unstoppable force of the false wall.  Another clearly connected to a false panel behind which there would be blades, or spikes, or a lethal horde of scuttling, blade-mouthed thornshells.  And the lever at the far side of the room, the one the Former Baron was considering as he stroked his chin, that would be worst of all that one would-

She watched in horror -mouth working to shout out a warning even as her throat seemed to seize - as the aging philosopher leaned forward, reached out, and pulled the lever.

And the gods-damned door opened!

"How did you do that?" she snapped.  She had been so sure.  Her logic had been infallible.  THat lever should have killed them both by combination of all of the traps being activated at once, and yet their escape route lay open and no acid, gas, blades, walls, nor vicious insect stood in their way.  She pointed with inarticulate rage at a small switch on the wall.

"It should have been this one!" she screamed.

"Oh, goodness, no," the Former Baron replied, looking surprisingly shocked, "if you'd flicked that switch you'd have been vapourised by venting hypostatick energy from the vent beneath your feet!"

Rosetta looked down.  She was standing on a solid piece of glowing stonework.  THe old man was talking nonsense, he-

No.  She saw it.  The tiny, dark holes lining the edge of the stone, hidden by the masonry's own dark colour and tracery of glowing lines which carefully avoiding the gaps without drawing attention to them.

"You're just so clever, aren't you?" she replied, having cooled her blood a little with a bit of deep breathing.  "Here I am, with my five doctorates, my endless years of study and hard work, the blood still staining the cracks in my hands, the tears as yet unshed... and you... you just buble around in your shameless, sham-lunacy, stumbling across the correct answers as if by accident."

She took a step closer.

"Don't think I'm fooled by your act, Franck."

"It's not an act, my dear.  I really do have a great deal of trouble thinking in a straight line... but yes... I do know a lot more of what is going on that often appears."

"Good," she said with a sudden, cruel smile, "then you'll already be expecting this!"

            The knife was in her hand in a moment, and there was a brief moment of satisfaction as Von Spektr’s eyes widened in surprise before the blade cut through the loose, raggedy fabric of his suit and sank into his flesh.  He gurgled just once, a ridiculous, pitiful moan, then collapsed to the floor.

            “Don’t worry,” she said, staring down into his fading eyes, “it’s everything personal”.  She turned and, without looking back again, walked out through the now-open door.

            That had been half an hour ago.

            “Next-to-last, maybe,” Diana said, dropping into a crouch.

Rosetta knew well enough her daughter’s capabilities, and so was not surprised when the crouch turned into a tremendous, feral leap across the space between them, to land on the very spot where she stood.  She was not surprised at all – had been anticipating it, in fact, and, before Diana was even halfway towards the zenith of her jump, Rosetta had taken action in her defence.  There was no one better at Hypostatick equations than she, and no one could direct their energies, or write with them as quickly as she could.  The symols appeared before in an instant, her hand barely visible as it sped left to right, the slender index finger crafting each character to perfection.  She performed the final function, there was that sense of reality shifting which only the writer of the equation would ever feel and then-

Diana rebounded off thin air just a few feet above her mother, some invisible energy shield throwing her backwards through the air to land in a heap.

It was hard for Rosetta to contain her laughter.  “Gods, child,” she called to the bundle on the floor ahead, “how did I ever give birth to something so stupd?  That’s twice now that you have attacked me and twice you have forgotten that I am just so much better at this than-”

The blow from behind was as unexpected as it was unstoppable.  It was like being swept off ones feet by an avalanche, or hit by a brick wall, only, as she rolled over herself in painful somersaults, Rosetta was able to see the real culprit – a seething, beast-like Stoneskin, whose blue-white eyes blazed with an intensity she had rarely seen before in that race.

Those eyes seemed familiar, they…

“Frostfire?” she croaked from the ground as the Stoneskin advanced.

“I didn’t think you would remember me,” the Stoneskin said as he took another step.

“But… of course I did.  You were the greatest of them, the best Lithoderm commander I ever had you-”

“I led my tribe to their brutal, bloody deaths… because of you.”  Sudddenly his talons loomed above her, long, sharp and horribly bloodied.  This creature had killed very recently, there was no reason to believe he wouldn’t do the same to her.

“No, that was Franck, the old man!  He was the one who unleashed the daemon.”  Somewhere inside Rosetta was dimly aware that she was babbling, that she was pleading for her life in the most pathetic way possible.  It was monstrously humiliating and yet she didn’t care.  There would be time to worry about dignity later, if only he’d listen to reason.  “You have to understand, I had no control of it whatsoever.  I barely escaped myself!”

“You left us all to die!”

A shadow loomed up from the other side and Rosetta let her terrifying, flickering gaze dart towards its source.  Dian was on her feet again, a blade in her hand.

“Hold her down, Frostfire,” she said.

“No, no, you can’t do this,” Rosetta shrieked as the stoneskin’s talons sank into her shoulder blades, “I’m your mother, your own flesh and blood!”  She tried to wriggle free, but any movement was agony.  She must have broken several bones when Frostfire had barrelled into her.

“Don’t struggle, Mother,” Diana continued, calm as ever, “it will only make it that much slower, and we don’t have all day now, do we?”

The shadow of the blade fell upon her and, finally, Rosetta truly screamed.

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