Chapter Twenty: Drowning

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In the attic workshop, Lady Artifice was glaring at the nervous white-haired man

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In the attic workshop, Lady Artifice was glaring at the nervous white-haired man. 'I'm waiting for an explanation, Whatnot', she said.

'My... my name is Benjamin', he began unsteadily. 'Your husband.'

Jet lifted his head from the floor where he was slumped in front of the Crusher. He was open-mouthed with amazement.

Whatnot looked his wife in the eye. 'I won't be your frightened little slave any l...longer', he continued.

Jet looked from Whatnot to Lady Artifice and saw she was amused.

'Really?' she said. 'You ... are a nobody, a thing, a whatnot to serve my will. But for some reason – misplaced affection no doubt – you let the girl go. I can no longer trust you.'

'That's right, you can't!' exclaimed Whatnot. 'I won't be part of your mad schemes any more.'

'You tell 'er, lad!' said Jet, punching the air with one of his front paws.

Lady Artifice picked up her remote control device from the workbench. She aimed it at Jet and pressed a button. Blue sparks of electricity shot through his body. He began to shake.

'Stop it!' pleaded Whatnot.

She released the button. Jet collapsed to the floor with a cry. Whatnot ran to his side and stroked his fur in an attempt to comfort him. 

Lady Artifice waved the control device at them. 'Sit, Whatnot!' she ordered.

He lowered himself to the floor next to Jet. 'Sorry', he whispered sadly to the dog.

'What... what you marry her for?' asked Jet, between winces of pain.

His master turned his face away from him.

The old woman slowly moved to the Crusher's control screen. She stabbed at it a few times. The fingers of one of the grabbers began to move as it raised itself from around the base of the Crusher's jaws. It headed towards a cowering Jet and Whatnot and tightly wrapped itself around them.

'Electrocution not good enough for you?' the dog asked her. 'You going to crush me to death now, are you?'

Lady Artifice grinned. A hundred lines rippled across her face from the corners of her mouth. She reached across the bench to pick up a brass alarm clock. She thrust it into the fingers of the metal arm that were now hovering in front of Whatnot and Jet's faces. The man and his dog watched the second hand ticking its way around the dial.

'How much longer will your miserable lives last?' she wondered aloud.

'You want to look at yoursen, lady. I wunt bet on you meking it to 190.'

She dismissed Jet's comment with a wave of a bony hand. 'I do hope the child makes it back in time', she purred. 'Then you can both suffer at the sight of my new improved Marigold – her every thought under my control...'

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