Silas threw a rope ladder over the side of the ship and descended cautiously onto the metallic floor of the scrapyard. He moved very quietly toward the mechanical lemur, which stood motionless atop a rusty pipe, its glass eyes dim as if it had suddenly lost power or entered sleep mode.
What is this thing? Silas thought as he approached it slowly, examining its intricate details. I've never seen anything like this before... Is it an advanced doll? Or a machine from another time?
He reached out to touch it, but suddenly, life surged back into the lemur. Its eyes flashed with a fleeting light, and it leaped with amazing agility across the pipes, moving away from him. Silas tried to chase it, but his foot slipped on an oil slick, and he stumbled, falling to his knees.
"Poggles... Poggles... Poggles..."
The name echoed several times in the air, like a distorted audio recording emitting from the lemur itself.
Silas stood up, dusting off his knees, surprised by the voice. "Poggles... Yes!" Silas called out loudly, trying to locate the small creature. "We are looking for someone by that name. If you can hear me and understand my language, please, we want to talk to you."
An electronic whistle sounded from the direction of a high pile of gears. Silas looked up to see the lemur hanging by its metal tail from a high pipe, dangling upside down and looking at them.
"Who are you?"
The words came from the lemur clearly, in a high-pitched and slightly crackly voice, but incredibly human.
Silas was shocked, as was Elyra, who had just descended from the ship and stood beside him. "Does this thing speak?" Elyra said in astonishment, her hand moving involuntarily toward her sword.
Silas tried to be gentle and diplomatic. "We are travelers... we were told to find Poggles here. If you know him, guide us to him; he is waiting for us."
The lemur narrowed its lens eyes, zooming in, and said in a hostile tone, "I am Poggles. Are you trying to trick me? Get out of here. Leave my land immediately, you intruders."
Elyra furrowed her brows with impatience and looked at Silas sarcastically. "Is this the Poggles we went through all this trouble to meet? Just a talking, foul-mouthed child's toy?"
The lemur turned toward her quickly, its copper ears twitching with anger. "Who are you calling a toy, you old hag?"
Sparks flew from Elyra's eyes. She drew her sword, White Fang, in the blink of an eye and pointed it at him. "I'm going to count to three. If you don't come down here right now, I will come up there to cut off your head and dismantle you piece by piece."
"Scary!" the lemur screamed dramatically, jumping to hide behind a massive steam boiler, peeking his head out only to watch them cautiously.
Silas had been silent during this exchange, watching in amazement. This was the first time he had seen a mechanical creature move and speak with full consciousness like a human, not just a machine executing orders. He stepped forward and said in a steady voice, "You say you are Poggles? Were you not waiting for someone? I know we are very late, maybe by years, but you know someone was coming."
Silas raised The Anchor Log high in his hand, letting the cover gleam under the light of his cane. "Look at this book. Your name is mentioned here."
The lemur glanced from behind the boiler at the book but didn't seem interested, as if he had seen many books before. "Paper and ink... means nothing to me."
Silas opened the book. He didn't search long; he opened to a page that seemed to glow on its own. He began to read in a resonant voice:
"Remain still amidst the Sea of Decay.
Leave not the ash until the veil falls away from your name.
Only then shall you face the Whisper."
As soon as Silas spoke the words, they began to echo behind him in a faint, ethereal voice, as if the book itself was whispering them, or the air in the scrapyard was repeating the echo.
The lemur froze atop the boiler. His ears perked up, and his internal gears stopped turning for a moment. It seemed as if the words didn't just enter his ears, but resonated within his core, activating something ancient and deep in his system. His lens eyes widened, and the first thing he realized after hearing the code was seeing the ship docked behind them clearly for the first time.
"The Whisper... The Floating Whisper..." Poggles whispered in a trembling voice full of longing.
Without warning, the lemur ran with frantic speed, bypassing Silas and Elyra, and leaped toward the ship. He climbed the ropes nimbly and ascended to the deck. Silas and Elyra followed him immediately, afraid he might tamper with the ship.
When they reached the deck, they found Poggles jumping over the railing of the Victorian house, feeling the wood and metal with a strange tenderness. Silas approached him and noticed something he hadn't seen in the darkness below. Under the copper plates and gears, there was biological tissue, tiny muscles and veins intertwining with the wires. This wasn't fully a robot. It was a cyborg, a living being whose consciousness and parts had been merged with a machine.
Poggles hugged a wooden pillar on the porch and made a sound like sobbing. "I missed you, my dear. The wait has been so long."
Elsewhere, inside the bleak factory behind the gate, the room was furnished with luxurious leather furniture that contrasted with the filth of the factory outside. Captain Jackson sat with exaggerated relaxation on a velvet sofa, resting his feet, dirty with black sand, on a polished wooden table.
The door opened, and The Supervisor entered in his black cloak and raven mask, walking with steady, cold steps.
"There you are," Jackson said with a broad grin, opening his arms as if welcoming an old friend.
The Supervisor stopped in front of him, looking at the mess Jackson had made in the room. "Oh, they sent you this time," The Supervisor said in a calm, metallic voice, devoid of any welcome. "Excuse me, please. If I had known it was you, I would have given you a reception worthy of you." He paused for a moment, then added coldly, "Remind me of your name?"
"Hahahahahaha!" Jackson burst into hysterical laughter, rumbling in his chest and shaking his body. "You don't remember my name? I see you treat everyone with this arrogant style of yours. You've only seen me once, and maybe I didn't mention my name last time because I was busy counting the money."
His laughter stopped suddenly, and his features turned to absolute seriousness and savagery. He reached out slowly and grabbed a bottle of fine wine that had been placed for hospitality. "But let me carve it into your memory."
SMASH!
He brought the bottle down on the edge of the table, shattering it, glass and red wine scattering like blood everywhere. He gripped the broken, sharp neck of the bottle and waved it in the air.
"Levoy Jackson."
A tense silence prevailed for seconds. Then Jackson threw the bottle neck behind him carelessly and went back to chuckling lightly as he wiped wine drops from his jacket. "Hahaha... sorry, sorry. I guess I got a little carried away."
The Supervisor remained standing with complete composure, not blinking an eye, as if he hadn't responded to this childish provocation. "Think nothing of it, Mr. Levoy," The Supervisor said in the same cold tone, as if nothing had happened. "Let me take you on a tour inside the factory. There is something you must see."