"O.O."

 

The following is a video transcript of the surveillance footage that captured Event O15-2001, a security incident that occurred in the contact vault of Site Zero-Alpha. AUTHORIZED EYES ONLY.

 

(Agent Rodriguez walks into the room and seats himself across from the client. If he is surprised by the client’s unusual appearance, he does not show it.)

RODRIGUEZ: Good afternoon, Mr. Olu. Is it okay if I call you that? Mr. Olu?

ORM OLU: No. Do not call me that. In fact, I’d prefer if you did not refer to me at all.

RODRIGUEZ: Alas, I’ve been assigned to interview you, Mr. Olu, so I have to call you something. What’s a better name for you? (Pause) Mr. Olu, should I—

ORM OLU: Stop! Stop saying that. You can call me O. Or O.O. Or Orm Olu, if you absolutely must. (Growls) But to use “Olu” like a surname is wholly inaccurate.

R: I see. Thank you for clarifying. (Pause) My name is Alejandro Rodriguez, O.O.

O: Am I supposed to care?

R: I just figured you would like to know how to refer to me.

O: I’ve no intent of speaking with you, fleshworm.

R: Aw, c’mon, there’s no need for that. I’m not a bad guy. I just want to know why you did what you did.

O: Ha! “What I did.” You’ve no right to restrain me. I’ve broken no laws.

R: Yes, you have. You’re responsible for a great deal of suff—

O: I’ve broken no laws that count. I follow the tenets established by the Higher Powers. I have not interfered with either my past or my future; I have not altered the course of history; I do not own any objects from erased timelines. And so I have done no wrong.

R: How about we debate that later. For now, maybe you can just tell me a little about yourself? We know you were built by the Jeunes-Vieillards—but we don’t know much about them, so that’s not much to go off of.

O: Well, of course—mortals aren’t supposed to know about the Higher Powers. And I certainly won’t start spilling their secrets to you.

R: But we do know you’re not unique. There’s at least one other living clock that we’ve heard of, one very much like yourself, though we’re not precisely sure where he lives.

O: A likely story. I am unique.

R: You’re alone?

O: I’m unique. And even if I weren’t unique—my siblings certainly wouldn’t choose to roost within this tawdry plane.

R: Siblings, huh? The guy we know must be your brother, then. And it would make sense that he’s in another dimension, given the circumstances.

O: I’ll—I’ll not speak further. (Long pause) How—did you observe him, if in fact you did?

R: Our resident psychic was meditating with the hopes of doing some remote viewing when she caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a small Midwestern schoolhouse, filled with children who seemed to be upright-walking Earth animals. A pig, a crocodile, a polar bear, a monkey—and several others. Their teacher was a sentient talking clock named “Klik-Klok.”

O: Ah, yes—K.K. He was created for the purpose of instruction. He taught at Answer Seeker Academy, in a dimension where, as you’ve seen, the inhabitants are Funny Animal folk.

R: “Created for the purpose of instruction?” Was he built to pass on the principles of chronal mechanics to his students?

O: No, of course not—my makers keep those firmly under lock and key. Instead, he was programmed to use education to elevate simple lifeforms to the intellect of common sentients. A quaint experiment, to be sure. That there are Funny Animals in that dimension to begin with is actually his doing, the product of many centuries of teaching—teaching as a means of inducing evolution. He had an assistant at some point to help him with the mass education, a member of the mauve-furred, cycloptic, unicorn Wooley Sheb species. (Pause) Of course, old K.K. retired from teaching rather recently, after about 1,996 years on the job—he was replaced by someone else, one of the sapient animals whose descendants he had advanced. After retirement he kept in touch with a couple of the pupils you glimpsed, the monkey and the crocodile, who became rivals in the vehicle racing business. I think it was K.K.’s replacement who inspired them to go into racing. Klik-Klok knew our other brother, Tee, might be able to help them out in their careers, and so he—

R: Another brother! How many do you have?

O: Three. K.K., Tee, and whoever it is whose name starts with an I. None of us have met “I,” whoever they are.

R: (Thinks for a moment) Wait...T, I, O, K. Tik-Tok?

O: Yes. A joke of sorts. My siblings were built by a pair of eccentric, renegade Jeune-Vieillard craftsmen, “Smith” and “Tinker,” who operated primarily out of another, far more whimsical dimension. Your people would probably say they built robots, but I’d say that they instilled the essence of life itself into machinery.

R: I can’t help but notice you’re referring to them in the past tense.

O: Well, Smith drowned in a painting at some point—though I heard he got better—while Tinker retired to their adopted world’s moon, where they haven’t been heard from since. Like I said, their world is far more whimsical than ours, or even K.K. and Tee’s.

R: So your siblings were built by Smith and Tinker—but who built you?

O: I’m afraid that’s classified. I-I’ve already said far too much.

R: Mm, well, that’s okay. I kind of lied earlier when I said we didn’t know everything.

O: What—do you mean?

R: I’m going out on a limb here, but I’m pretty sure you know the names “Dr. Omega,” “Bald Man,” and “Dr. Reaper.”

O: What?! What do you know about—

R: All the same person, at the end of the day—or so we’ve been led to believe. Could be wrong about that, I guess. But he’s your maker, if we’re correct.

O: You arrogant fool, how do you—?

R: Of course, you may not have been his invention directly, even if he had a hand in your design—it could’ve just as easily been his close aid Dr. Maubeuge. Probably in his sixth incarnation, I’d say, when he was crafting other forms of synthetic beings.

We scanned you upon arrest, and we know that your innards are full of graanix stone from Mount Ngranek, and tintanik crystals from the Dherm Tunnels. Quantum crystals stolen from the Dreamlands. Those are poor substitutes for what was used to build your brothers. Next to them, you’re kind of a bootleg, aren’t you? That’s why you’re all—lopsided. And not very fancy for ormolu. But then, it also looks like you’ve modified yourself, given yourself an aesthetic. I’ll give you some credit, I do like the bowtie.

(O.O. is clearly stunned, and does not reply for some time.)

R: Sorry to ramble, I just wanted to get all that out without being cut off.

O: You...you are a professional liar, fleshworm. I’m guessing you’ve met my brothers, face-to-face.

R: Yes. And from them, we’ve learned about their role in the Cosmic Balance. The exact sort of Balance you were constructed to sabotage.

O: Hmph. How do you know that’s my purpose? I’ve still not broken any of the key tenets.

R: Well, let’s talk about what you’ve done on Earth now. It may not be a time paradox to give birth to a giant killer clock, but it’s still a crime to stand back and watch that giant killer clock kill people.

O: The lives of fleshworms don’t concern me. Only those of my spawn.

R: We should’ve guessed earlier that Dr. Omega built you, based on your disregard for life. You’re a cold and ruthless entity.

O: One has to be, if one is to be successful in this universe.

R: And you consider infesting planets with your spawn to be a measure of success?

O: It’s hardly my fault that you humans are unable to live peacefully with my spawn. You should be able to adapt to changes in your environment. That you can’t makes you weak.

R: But as a chronomechanical organism, you’re surely aware that killing people now, in 2001, will alter future history? And therefore break one of the tenets you operate under?

O: That’s not my concern. I have lived my life linearly. For all I know, this is what’s meant to be in this timeline.

R: There’s just one problem with that. I’ve seen the future.

O: What—what are you talking about?

R: Don’t believe me? Here: take a look!

(He sets his hand on O.O.’s, and creates a psychic bond between them. Though this cannot be seen on-camera, O.O.’s change in expression reveals that Rodriguez successfully made telepathic contact with him.)

O: No...no! That’s cheating!

R: (Squeezing his hand) Two summers ago, I made contact with a Jeune-Vieillard artifact left over from the Captain Video’s time-campaign in the 19^th Century American West. It shifted me three years into the future, to the year 2002, and as part of my journey to get back to my home time I passed through Maple City—the same Maple City that your spawn is currently destroying. And guess what: it wasn’t destroyed!

O: But that just means the future you visited was shunted into an alternate timeline by my actions! It doesn’t mean the future changed—

R: You think I’m stupid? You think I don’t know that creating an alternate timeline goes against your vaunted rules?

O: No—you weaselly mortal—!

R: I’m done here—you take care of the rest, Ialak Idahg.

(He rolls up his sleeve to reveal a black digital watch. It pings curiously as he raises it towards Orm Olu.)

O: What? Impossible!

R: This is your sister, O.O. The “I” in Tik-Tok. How do you think we captured you, if not with her assistance?

O: You traitorous wench! How dare you backstab me like this?!

(Ialak Idahg pings again, and O.O.’s eyes visibly widen.)

O: No...no, you can’t be serious!

R: What? What is it?

O: The evil…

R: What is it?!

O: You have no idea how close you are to ultimate evil, keeping that thing on your wrist.

R: Nice try, but I very much doubt this little lady is evil. After all, she’s helping us bring you and your spawn to justice.

O: It has no such intention. You think spawning a kaiju-sized offspring and wrecking a city or two is as bad as it gets? You can’t even guess at a fraction of what that thing is capable of…

R: We need to get you and your offspring off the planet, O.O. The damage they’ve caused is horrific. And you’ve broken your sacred tenets—anytime a being like you kills anything, you’re interfering in the pattern of time. You claim ignorance of the future, but you’re wired into the chronal web itself! You’re observing the future of the people your spawn kills even as they kill them. You are weaving paradoxes. Which leaves you vulnerable to your sister, and her justice.

O: You fool! I was built to upset the Balance! My power can’t be compromised by my inducing paradox. Ialak Idahg doesn’t care at all about the tenets! It’s going to shunt me into the Hell of Clocks just for—for the hell of it!

R: That’s—not my concern. (Pause) What’s the Hell of Clocks?

O: A tenth-dimensional node point, where all time occurs at once! All moments are no moments, everything is nothing. It will tear my mind apart!

R: That’s—uh—

(I.I. beeps again, louder and more aggressively this time. A white light begins to form around O.O. O.O. becomes distressed and starts whimpering, which slowly turns to screaming.)

R: Enough! I.I., you said you came to help us!

(The watch does not respond. Rodriguez begins to struggle with it, trying to pull it off his wrist, but it seems to be clinging to him.)

O: Rodriguez! Help me! If you come to my aid, I’ll ensure that I keep that thing trapped in Clock Hell. That’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make!

R: I can’t—I can’t get her off of me!

O: She cares nothing for the tenets, Rodriguez. I can sense her history. I can see all the civilizations she’s burned, all the species she’s erased from time…

R: I-I don’t know if I can believe you.

(He looks at I.I. The portal-light is glowing brighter.)

O: Hurry, Rodriguez! Make your choice!

(Rodriguez looks at the floor, then up at the camera.)

R: Guys, I’m gonna keep this short and sweet: I have never trusted anyone as much as I trust y’all. We’re NOCTURNE, and I know we’ll always stick together. If I survive this—and I know there’s no guarantee I will—I know you’ll get me out. I’m sticking to our way to the very end...and that means keeping the civvies safe.

(Pause)

R: Wish me luck.

(He looks away and, keeping I.I. on his wrist, he runs forward and jumps into the portal. I.I., not expecting this, lets out a squeal of terror and rage, and all three of them disappear.)

 

Alejandro Rodriguez is still considered MIA; NOCTURNE is presently pursuing all known leads on accessing the Hell of Clocks that O.O. referenced. Notably, the giant clock that O.O. birthed vanished along with him. We have yet to produce a satisfactory public explanation for the attack on Maple City, but we are certain that a sufficient cover-up shall emerge in due course.

TO BE CONTINUED

~ ~ ~

The one-eyed, one-horned, flying purple people eatin’ Wooley Sheb was created by Joe Bongiorno (with inspiration from Sheb Wooley) and appears with permission. Smith and Tinker were created by L. Frank Baum and are in the public domain. Dr. Omega is from Blackhawk #19 (Jun. 1948) and is in the public domain. Dr. Maubeuge is loosely based on Dr. Mabuse from Norbert Jacques’ novel Dr. Mabuse, the Gambler (1921), which is in the public domain.