The Long Road Home - Chapter 1

The main sitting room in the Walter Manor was unnervingly quiet as the storm started to settle outside.  With the power back on, Steve had immediately gone to get the Spine back in his body and find Rabbit.  Sam, who had been on his way up to see what the fuss was about when he heard Michael yelling, was now in the process of coaxing his friend back inside out of the rain, tossing a towel over his head as soon as they were back inside.

Now they were all sitting around in various places, Rabbit sitting on the floor near where the Spine had taken over one of the big arm chairs, his long fingers pressed together at the tips in front of his face.  His expression was tight and frustrated, glowing green stare focused on the floor.  Sam and Steve were flanking Michael, watching as their companion worried the edge of the Jon's hat.  The feathers were drenched with water and grit, the whole thing muddy from where it had fallen off in the scuffle.  No one spoke, nor did they know what to do.

It was Steve who finally sat up a bit, one hand lingering near his dreds.  "Okay.  So what do we know?"

"We know some crazy guys in black grabbed the Jon and that's about it," Michael replied quietly, staring down at the hat.

The Spine nodded solemnly, resting his chin against his hands.  "And we know they cut the power to the mansion in order to do it, though I still have no idea how they managed that.  QWERTY's complaining that she can't focus because of how suddenly it dropped."

Sam shook his head a little bit.  "Someone tampered with the line.  The generator was basically being cut off.  I found the hitch, but apparently a little too late."

"Not your fault, Sam."  Steve leaned back, looking around at the group.  "This is a disaster.  We don't even know where they might've taken him."

Clearly upset, Rabbit shifted uncomfortably, trying hard not to focus on anyone standing around them.  "P-p-p-p-poor Jon.  He mus-must be scare-are-ared silly."

A grim expression crossed the Spine's face, and he was rather glad Rabbit wasn't looking at him at that moment.  "All the more reason to find him as quickly as we can, then."

As silence fell again, Michael pushed to his feet, face set in an expression of grim determination.  "Well, I'm going to have a look around outside.  If we're lucky, they left something we can track."

No one even dared to try and stop him.

---

It was a cold, white, sterile room the Jon found himself in the following morning after the storm, strapped down to a table, though he wouldn't have been able to make an escape attempt if he tried.  The hydraulic lines to his arms and legs were still severed.  The only thing he was able to do was stare quietly up at the ceiling, steam hissing from his neck and nose as he fought to stay calm.

He had to think about this.  What would Rabbit do in this situation?  What would the Spine do?  Or Michael?

Most of his answers involved not being incapacitated.  That was a disheartening waste of time.  The weird distortion of reality that sometimes occurred around him seemed to be fluctuating a bit, but it didn't cut through the cold reality of his situation.  He was a prisoner, somewhere far from his home, and he didn't know how to get back.

He thrashed his head a bit, wishing he could find some way to pull against his restraints, but he stopped when he heard the woosh of air from an automatic door sliding open and then closing behind someone.  The someone must've been wearing neat dress shoes, because they clicked against the floor loudly.  Tile, maybe?

"So you're our little subject.  What a marvel.  You know, I grew up with my grandmother listening to records of you and the Walter family's other toys."  When the man came into view, he was smiling serenely.  "The tall one with the deep voice was always her favorite.  You are much smaller in person than I suspected you would be.  My name is Dr. Nikolai Amsterdam."

The little brass robot frowned as he looked up at the man, wishing he could at least fidget or shift to look up better.  "Where am I?"

A grin split the man's weathered face.  "Why, you're in the laboratories of Cryptodyne Industries.  I do hope your trip here was enjoyable."

"You stole me from my home!"  For as frightened as he was, the Jon was almost more angry.  "How am I supposed to find it enjoyable when you break into our home and steal me in the middle of the night?"

The man did not stop grinning, just patting the Jon's shoulder lightly.  "We aren't stealing you.  We've simply borrowed you.  While we do want to see how you are put together?  You aren't our only goal.  At the end of this, we will have you and all the Walters' toys... as well as one other who is very necessary for our glorious purpose."

The Jon's expression shifted uncomfortably.  "Your... glorious purpose?"

Smiling, the man pulled over a tray on a wheeled stand.  The Jon could not see what was on the tray, but as the man started going through whatever was there, he got the feeling he really didn't want to know.  His suspenders and ruined shirt had been removed a while ago, and his brass torso was shining in the room's bright florescent lights.  "Colonel Peter A. Walter I built four steam powered robots in 1896.  He used a mysterious energy source called blue matter to power all of you, and to give you false life.  You are sentient creatures with no soul... a grown man's fancy toys built to amuse.  And yet, you mimic human emotion beautifully.  No one before or since has managed such marvels of engineering, and he did so with little more than steam and gears and clockwork."  He picked up a device from the tray, and though the Jon did not recognize what it was, the sight of it filled him with a sick sense of dread.  "We intend to be the first."

---

It had taken hours of searching to find any kinds of clue on the Walter manor grounds, and still no sign of anything that could indicate who had stolen the Jon during the storm.  The device that had been used to cut off the generator had no indication of its origin on it, or at least not that Steve could locate, and by the time afternoon rolled around, it took Sam all but brow beating all of them to get them to come inside to at least get some nourishment in them.  The Spine and Rabbit sat side by side at a table in the kitchen, each fidgeting with a couple of bottles of water, as the humans sat ranged about nearby, mostly just picking at their food.

"I ca-ca-ca-can't stop thinking-ing about what they m-m-might be doin' to Jon," Rabbit was saying, staring mournfully at the empty spot their youngest brother would normally occupy.  "You d-don't think they'd kill 'im, w-w-w-would they?"

Michael's expression went dark almost immediately as Sam and Steve gave Rabbit a look indicating he should probably end that train of thought.  The copper automaton shrunk back with a mumbled "sorry" as the Spine reached out to put a hand on his oldest brother's shoulder.  "We'll find him before they hurt him, Rabbit.  It's just a matter of figuring out where they- NNGH!"

The suddenness with which the tall silver robot cut off, dropping his water bottle to grasp his head, caused everyone to stop what they were doing.  Rabbit immediately bolted to his feet.  "The Spine?!"

"We need to get to the Hall of Wires."  The automaton was already stumbling to his feet, heading in that direction.  "Now!"

He didn't pause to wait for anyone else, heading for the stairs, leading up to the room he essentially lived in.  Everyone else was quickly hot on his heels, and even Rabbit cringed back anxiously when they entered the room.  QWERTY was swinging her monitor back and forth, letting out a high pitched shrieking sound.  It almost seemed like an old dial-up modem, if someone had amped up the pitch.

The Spine was the first to move forward, using his connection with the room to coax the monitor down where he could grab it, his jaw clenched tightly against the sound.  "QWERTY!  What in the world is the matter with you?"

The monitor wailed again, images flashing rapidly across the screen.  A building, part of an address, and... the Jon.

"J-J-J-Jon!"  Rabbit moved over to his brother's side as the images started to slow.  "QWERTY, whe-where are you getting these images-es-es?"

She didn't respond, and soon, the images were replaced by the smiling face of a woman, dark waves framing her face.  She was not unattractive, but she looked like the sort who had nothing good at heart.  "Good evening, gentlemen... and automatons."

The Spine, slowly recovering from the shrill sounds that still echoed inside his mechanical head, narrowed his photoreceptors at the mystery woman.  "Who are you?  What do you want?"

"I'm here to have a very important conversation with you."  She tipped her head forward a bit, looking at each face in the room.  "My name is Victoria.  I am the head of security for a company known as Cryptodyne Industries.  We have the Walter automaton known as the Jon at our facility."  She smiled as an image appeared on a small monitor behind her.  It was a live feed, apparently, of a scientist working away the neat brass plates of the small robot's chest.  From the bright glow of the little automaton's photoreceptors, he was completely awake.  "Aside from some... minor structural damage, he is aware of his surroundings and will remain unharmed, provided you lot are prepared to do something in return."

Immediately the Spine bristled, steam pouring from the vents along his spinal column.  "How dare you?!  You steal our brother in the dead of night, and then expect us to cooperate with you?!"

Michael stepped forward at that, putting a hand on the Spine's arm.  "We don't really have a choice, Spine.  What do you want from us, lady?"

Victoria gave a sweet smile at him, fluttering her lashes girlishly.  "We want you, Michael Reed.  We have been working, for a long time, with an energy source I believe you may have heard of while working for the Walters.  Red matter.  We would like to use it for our projects, but it is unstable, and the only known way of tempering it is-"

"Purple matter," Michael interrupted, free hand clenched so tightly into a fist that it trembled.  "Are you seriously out of your mind?  Red matter is dangerous.  It's volatile under the best conditions.  You can't possibly expect me to agree to this."

The woman, however, was not deterred, keeping her attention focused on him.  "I beg to differ, Mr. Reed.  You work with purple matter, and are presently the foremost expert on its use.  If anyone can successfully manipulate the purple matter to... temper the red matter, it's you.  Of course, if you wish to still be difficult... we can escalate this."  A wicked smile curved her lips as the monitor behind her betrayed a brief glimpse of the terror and pain on the Jon's face before blacking out.  "It's your choice, Mr. Reed.  Your little system here will have the number to reach me at once you decide.  I would choose quickly... you're the only chance that mouthy little toy has."

With those words, the monitor went black.