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Chapter 5:
The Brothers Clockwork

The sounds of a harbor ringed in Agent Excitement’s ears. The salty smell of freshly caught fish rose into her lungs and she felt beneath her the hard, wet, wooden, slats of an old dock. She opened her eyes slowly and saw a pink sky laid out above her with white clouds drifting and changing shape.
She was just trying to come to terms with the pain in her back hen Agent Passion poked his head into her view without a warning. Agent Excitement instinctively reacted by punching him in the face.
“What was that all about?” asked Passion kneeling and clutching his nose.
Agent Excitement shrugged. “You just startled me. I just got eaten by a fish, I was in survival mode. You know better than to surprise when I’m in survival mode.”
Agent Passion huffed as if this wasn’t a very good explanation at all. “Where are we?” he asked, looking around. The three of them (Agent Bliss was still on his back with his eyes closed) sat on a wet creaking dock. A light blue sea stretched out before them; several boats floated absently on the surface. Four winged rust colored birds swooped and dived, making ripples on the water.
“Pink air and four winged birds,” said Agent Excitement, laughing to her self and lying back down. “Wake me up when the Frenchman gets here.”
“Hey guys,” called Agent Bliss, who had woken up and was now closer to the end of the dock. “What’s with this dude?”
He was pointing to silent, apparently unconscious man sitting with legs in lotus position. His head hung down and his gold turban sagged, almost falling off. He was dressed in a red silk shirt that was unbuttoned, exposing his tanned and muscular chest. The shirt was tucked into old, worn canvas pants which hung down over his bare, calloused feet. The strangest thing was the huge brass key that was sticking out of his back. He looked like an old windup toy that hadn’t been used for a long while.
Agent Bliss was looking up and down the man, as if trying to find some sign of life. He craned his neck so he could look up into the man’s downward facing face and nearly slipped out of surprise. The man’s eyes were wide open, as white and slick as unvarnished pearls. And like pearls, they had no pupils or irises, only the whites of his eyes were visible. Agent Bliss was transfixed by their shining purity, and would have started and stared hadn’t Agent Passion spoken up.
“What are you waiting for? Turn the key!” he said anxiously, as impatient as a child with an unopened present.
Agent Bliss retracted his neck warily, eyeing the man with caution. He inched towards the brass key, and cautiously started to turn the giant knob. As soon as Agent Bliss applied any pressure, the key started to whirl. Faster and faster it spun, until it was barely a blur. The man slowly straightened his back so his blank eyes started at the Agents. And suddenly the pearls began whir and twirl in their sockets. Both the key and the eyes stopped moving abruptly. But now, in the very center of the gleaming immaculate surface, there lay a pinpoint of shining golden light, a light that signaled intelligence like a foghorn signals land.
The man’s lips parted mechanically and he took in a breath of air, his vocal chords returning to life and his heart kicking into action. The blood rushed through his stiff limbs and he spoke with a voice that sounded like it came from an old phonograph player.
“I am the Clockwork Wiseman,” it said, “and welcome, travelers, to the Port of the Echos.”
The three Agents were silent, gazing in confusion at the strange thing before them. The Clockwork Wiseman neck creaked as he tilted his head slowly to one side. His eyes focused on Agent Excitement, who looked the most bewildered, and his lips parted with a jerk once more.
“Is there something bothering you?”
“Uh, no, nothing’s bothering me.”
“Are you sure?”
“Who are you?”
“I am the Clockwork Wiseman, as I have already said.”
Agent Excitement was still quite wary of this mechanical man, so she didn’t ask any further questions. However, Agent Passion wanted answers. And this robot seemed to know them.
“Where are we?” he asked.
“You are in the Harbor of the Port of Echos.”
“What is the Port of Echos?”
“Look to your right,” the Clockwork Wiseman instructed.
Agent Passion turned. His eyes went along the wooden slats of the dock until they suddenly ended and gave way to glistening yellow sand. This sand then transferred to a gray cobblestone, and then Agent Passion saw the dusty, washed out boulevards of the Port of Echos.
The city was abandoned, and the wind whistled through its streets and alleys. Agent Passion could have sworn he heard a tortured moan drift up from the bowels of the town, but he paid it no mind. The Port was comprised of one story white walled shops and houses. The buildings in the front row had booths set up with platters and trays and plates, each as desperately empty as the belly of a starving man.
Agent Passion narrowed his eyes at the Clockwork Wiseman. “Tell me more,” he said greedily.
The Wiseman’s eye twitched a few times, and there was a click somewhere in the dusty cogs of his brain. The Clockwork Wiseman blinked twice took a deep breath in, and began.
“You are in the Passing Zone, a combination of four realms that together bridge all realities. You have already been to the Floating Isles. The cascades that flow from the isles supply the Sea of the Dream, which splashes below you, and keeps it from drying up. The Port of Echos is to your right, where the poor captive souls of the Glades are held by the Eater.”
“Dude, what’s with all the proper nouns?” asked Agent Bliss, raising one of his eye brows.
“The Eater is a fiend of the worst degree. He is an immortal monster who has been around since the beginning. In the earliest times of creation, he traveled to the Glades. The Glades is, or was, a beautiful reality filled with the most splendid forests you have ever seen. Then the Eater came and destroyed it all in the most unspeakable ways. He enslaved the people of the Glades, the Echos, and took them here. This originally was just an outcrop of land, but the Eater built up this town. He resides in the villa at the center. The Echos spend every single day out fishing for the Blood Carp that bathe and frolic in the sea, and every night return to give their catch to the Eater who devours every last bit.”
“So, the Echos will serve this Eater…” Agent Bliss trailed off.
“For eternity, yes,” finished the Clockwork Wiseman.
Agent Bliss fell silent. Then an exceedingly rare thing happened. Slowly, like a sink fills up with water, a frown crept up onto his face. He pulled back from the Wiseman and his fellow agents and drew himself inward like an anxious child. The Wiseman continued.
“Out before us, as I have said, stretches the endless Sea of the Dream. Underneath the surface lay the vast Reefs, gigantic avalanches of all colors and shapes of coral imaginable. Hidden among the forests of coral are portals to different realities. The realities accessed by the Reefs are typically the bizarre realities. The portals you find near or in the heat vents will lead to the more hellish and demented ones of the bunch, while the portals that are placed within the beautiful grottos are almost always the more euphoric an blissful places to be.”
“Gotcha,” cut in Agent Excitement, nodding, “stay away from heat vent portals.”
The Wiseman gave her a glare that silenced her like a piece of well applied duct tape. He began again, irritated at being interrupted so much. “Atop the waves, there lie one last set of passageways. Those are the Docks.” He did not describe them, but nearly stretched out his arm to its full length, as if presenting a Renaissance masterpiece.
The agents noticed the Docks for the first time. Out upon the sea there rose periodically a bunch of wet wooden docks that led… nowhere. Just as the purple cobblestone bridge had ended in thin air, these water logged, creaking brown docks ended in the open sea. Their supports popped out of the water and were covered in colorful, soggy barnacles.
Agent Excitement asked the obvious question, “What do they do?”
“They are portals to other realities such as your own. I take it you are from Earth?” the Wiseman continued, not waiting for an answer. “We don’t often get travelers coming out of your reality. You see, you live in a more moderate and unexciting world, and usually the only movement that happens is when pranksters from different worlds go in to scare the bejeezus out of your mundane little minds.”
There was a pause as the agents wondered where this guy learned the word ‘bejeezus’ and how he knew so much about them. The Clockwork stared right back at them, not moving one of his mechanical muscles. The splashing of waves could be heard in the background as well as the creaking of wood from the planks they were sitting on. The Clockwork Wiseman still didn’t move. Agent Passion reached out his hand and waved in front of the robotic man’s face, but the Clockwork Wiseman did not respond.
Then there was a clack and ‘ka-c***k’ from his brain of gears, cogs, and pulleys and he resumed speaking. “I apologize for the glitch. I take it you would like to return to your world?”
“Yes!” cried Excitement emphatically.
“Then go over to the boat, get my brother working and you can set off.” The Wiseman promptly shut down without explaining anything else.
Agent Passion stood up, and walked slowly over to the end of the dock. There he noticed for the first time and old, slightly waterlogged boat that was floating despondently in the ocean, tethered to the dock by a wet, nearly torn piece of rope. At the head of the boat was a worn and faded wood carving of a once beautiful maiden. Her dress was carved in swirling and billowing patterns and upon her fine face was look of defiance and strength; her plump lips were drawn tight and her eyes burned with a long lost fire. Her hair was carved flying along the sides of the boat and in it were all the frothing swirls of raging sea’ her smooth arms were crossed across her chest in solemn fortitude. In the curls of her majestic flowing mane were inscribed the words ‘My Fair Lady’. The title was etched into the wood with elegant script that apparently was a gallant gold, but now was reduced to a slightly lighter brown hue than the rest of the wood. Nasty scratches ran across the hull and in the rear, whole chunks were torn from the rudder. Clearly, the small, shabby ‘My Fair Lady’ had braved much tumult in its undoubtedly extensive lifetime.
Lying curled up in the bottom of the boat was a man with a giant brass key protruding from the center of his back. He was clothed in multiple layers of dreary grey sweaters and scarves. He wore grey canvas pants as well as a faded red scarf and cap. Bliss and Excitement crept up behind him. His eyes were hidden from view and he had a gruff, stubbly black beard that came in patchy around his chin. His greasy black hair spilled out from under his hat in unkempt strands. He looked like a toy that a young boy had cast away long ago, one that grew more dusty, creaky and hopelessly broken with every passing year. The metal that sprouted from his back was the only thing about him that gleamed with any life at all, as if it alone was able to defend its glory from the constant onslaught of the legions of time.
“Turn the key,” commanded Excitement.
Passion crept forward and gave the key a twirl. The same thing occurred as had before, and when the shining brass key stopped spinning the man in the boat’s bottom sat up slowly and stretched. His back cracked loudly and he let out a sigh. He smiled a toothless grin and spoke with a voice rougher than a gravel driveway.
“Ho there. I’m the Clockwork Mariner, the brother of that old stiff the Wiseman. I’ve always said that his cogs fit a bit too tightly. My job is to ferry poor lost souls like yer’ selves back and forth between the docks. And who do you be?”
He stared straight at Agent Bliss with unfaltering eyes that did not gleam gold like his brothers, but instead shone with a rusty glimmer, one that glinted and sparkled even though the man’s face was clothed in shadow. They smoldered like coals in a long forsaken fire draped with the ash of weariness. They smoldered like coals cynically determined to see it through to the end and never lose their warmth until they were doused with the cold water of finality. They did not seem to pierce straight to your soul, but they had a knowing quality about them, like they perceived much more than could be outwardly seen.
“We are three of the six Agents of Area Pi,” stated Agent Passion, trying to seem as cool and official as he could, as if he was identifying himself in the oval office to the president as opposed to in an inter-dimensional limbo to a dirty old man in a boat with a key sticking out of his back.
“Was I talking to you?” asked the Mariner, his eyes not straying from Agent Bliss. “So, Afro-man, who are you really?”
Agent Bliss opened his mouth as if to speak, but was silenced again by the Clockwork Mariner.
“Before you answer, think carefully. You are in the reality between all realities, and the only thing that’s holding you together is your mind. This is no tie for uncertainty. Believe, you don’t want to go crazy here. You’ll lose your mind and never find it again. No one can stand it here for very long without snapping. That’s why my brother and I were built the way we were. We’re the machines closest to being people ever built.”
“What about the Eater?” asked Agent Bliss narrowing his eyes.
“So now the truth is coming out. The eater is like my brother and I, not really a person. He’s a Fiend with capital F. You know what’s the funny thing? He’s one of the weaker ones. No less evil, mind you, but definitely not as powerful as some go. The Seven Fiends were a race that was here since the beginning of everything. Not even my brother knows how they came about. The Eater is the weakest of the seven.” The Clockwork Mariner paused, his unblinking coal eyes still staring straight at Agent Bliss.
“Can we get out of here now?” asked Agent Excitement, impatient.
“Of course, get in.” He commanded gruffly, untying the boat, picking up two water-logged oars and slipped them under the surface of the calm sea. He faced the group and began to row slowly away from the dock.
“Don’t you need us to tell you where we’re from?” wondered Passion.
“Let me guess. You’re from the reality were animals don’t talk, humans are the most superior life form, and no one has the slightest idea for sure what happens after you die.”
“Well the bible states-”
“Shut up, kid. I’m right aren’t I?”
“Well, yeah I guess so. How did you know?”
“I could just tell. Anyway, we’re here. Get out.”
The three looked around in surprise. The shore was nowhere in sight and they floated before old, barnacle-infested planks of wood leading to nowhere. The three agents cautiously stepped out of the rocking boat and wondered how they could get home from here. The Clockwork Mariner stayed crouched over with the oars in his wrinkled hands swaying expectantly.
“What are you waiting for? Walk off the end already!” said the Mariner.
“We just walk off the far end?” asked Agent Excitement incredulously.
“What else would you do?”
“I don’t know, get sucked up into a glowing beam of light?”
“Where do you think you are, the Starship Enterprise?”
“Okay, how do you know about Star Trek?”
The Clockwork Mariner held up a withered old hand so that his index and middle fingers were together on one side and his pinky and ring fingers were on the other, forming a V.
“Live long, prosper, and move your asses!” yelled the Mariner, extremely annoyed.
Excitement and Passion glared at the Mariner like he was being highly unreasonable and walked off the end of the dock. As soon as both of their feet left wood they disappeared entirely. Only Agent Bliss was left behind. He stared into the empty air for one silent moment, turned on his heels and got back in the boat.
“Take me to the Eater,” he commanded.
The Mariner chuckled under his breath. “You made the right choice, Afro-Man. Now hold on tight.”

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