The Adventures of Phineas Frakture by Joseph Gatch

have something stronger, perhaps,” returned William.
    As they continued on, Phineas rubbing his neck and William still counting fezzes, something caught Phineas’ attention in the reflection of a storefront window across the street.
    “Let’s take a short cut,” Phineas announced, suddenly guiding his friend into an alley on the right. As soon as they were around the corner, he pushed William up against the wall and motioned for him to keep silent.
    A moment later, a head capped with a fez slowly peered around the corner. Phineas quickly grabbed the man by the lapels and hauled him into the alley. The squat, dark-skinned man went wide-eyed at being caught.
    “Why are you following us?” demanded Phineas. “Were you the one who hit me?” He quickly patted the man down, looking for the key and any weapons. All the while, the man jabbered quickly in a foreign tongue, which Phineas assumed was Egyptian.
    “What is he saying?” asked William.
    Phineas turned his attention to his friend. “When have you ever known me to speak Egyptian…or any other language for that matter?”
    “Well, you were studying the symbols and texts…and you speak in tongues when you get angry, add the science-gibberish and…I’ll be quiet now.”
    Phineas shook his head and returned to the foreigner, who was still jabbering. Finally, he finished with a word Phineas understood: Steamhotep .
    “Steamhotep?”
    “Yes…yes…Steamhotep,” said the foreigner with the look of a lost puppy. He obviously wanted to tell Phineas something, but he had no way of communicating with him.
    The professor thought for a moment and then pulled both the foreigner and William by their arms. “Come on. I think that I have a solution.”
    Hailing a cab, the trio journeyed to a shop that sported a giant automaton in front of it. Phineas paid the driver, and with a belch of smoke from its boiler, the cab went on its way.
    “What are we doing here?” asked William as he gazed at the monstrosity standing over the entrance.
    “Finding a solution,” replied Phineas. Fortunately, because of the Expo, the majority of shops in the city were open on Sunday. They entered the shop and were greeted by a shriveled old man with white hair that stuck out in every direction, wearing a multi-lensed ocular enhancer over his right eye. “I am looking for an interpreter. Do you have any available?”
    “Sweep!” the old man shouted, much louder than expected.
    Phineas and William looked at each other, confused. A minute later, an automaton walked in holding a broom.
    “This is Sweepio. He’s an interpreter, but all he’s been good for around here is cleaning the place.”
    Phineas looked the model over as it started talking.
    “I am AD1977, human/automaton relations. He calls me ‘Sweepio’. I am fluent in over one hundred forms of communication.”
    “Do you speak…” Phineas turned to the foreigner, “say something,” and gestured for him to talk. When the man finished, Phineas continued. “Whatever that is?”
    “Of course, sir. It’s like a second language to me.”
    William leaned in. “Ask it if it speaks ‘Bocce’.”
    “Do you speak…” Phineas turned and glared at him. “What the devil kind of language is ‘Bocce’? I swear, William, you live in your own world sometimes.”
    “Far, far away,” William said, drifting off.
    “All right, how much for it?” he asked the shop owner.
    “One hundred dollars.”
    “A hundred dollars? For this? He’s ancient and…things are falling off of him.” Phineas flicked a piece attached to a spring and it went flying across the counter, where the owner caught it.
    “Ninety then…and you’ll pay ten for breaking that.”
    Seeing as how he wasn’t going to get a cheaper price, he paid the man. “Come on. You can leave the broom.”
    “Sir,” the automaton said, “if I might say, I have a companion in the backroom that is really good at—”
    “No,” snapped Phineas. “One wreck is