The Clockwork Tower

Image by awsloley from PixabayThe ominous ticking stopped and the floor beneath us jolted into place.

“Quickly, let’s figure out this level,” Blaise said.

“I can’t keep going,” Martin said, collapsing to the ground.

“You have to,” Gina said, lifting him by the arm.

He shook her off as the clockwork of the building started clicking again, signaling the inevitable collapse of another level. “Just leave me. Death is better than this.”

“Marty,” Blaise started, but Gina took the direct approach, slapping Martin across the face.

“You don’t get it!” she said. “Floor twelve took four of us to work that puzzle and open the exit. Four of us. And now we’re down to five survivors. If we leave you and hit a puzzle that takes five people, you’ll have killed us all!”

Marty stared resentment into her, rubbing his raw face, but he stood.

Gina turned to me. “Now, what do you have?”

I jumped. “Sorry. I was watching Marty,” I said.

“Am I the only one who doesn’t want to get squashed? Find us a way up to the next level!”

We scattered, examining every ratchet, lever, pinwheel, and cam. Selma approached me while I was watching a thick spring tighten around the central post.

“Do you believe there really is a top level?”

Selma asked. “If we make it out, we’ll be free?”

Gina called from across the circular room. “There’s a long opening in the ceiling, too high to reach!”

Suddenly the meaning of the tightening spring clicked for me. “We’ve got a spinner! Blaise, do the math!”

From the angle of the coil, the height of the ceiling and the radius of the room, Blaise picked a spot and had us lay down just as the spring released and the ceiling spun down toward us.

God, I hope Blaise’s math is right.

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