The Epic of Doitzel, Part 2
Where we last left our hero:
“Hey, I’m Doitzel, and I’m super awesome.”
“Hey, I’m Hex and Doitzel’s not so awesome.”
“Holy crap, that guy has a cheese grater!”
And now back to our story.
Clearly this man had no sense of humor, and unfortunately for him I was in no mood with the day I’d had to become an ingredient for salad.
I closed my eyes to concentrate; when I opened them again I could see and feel the magnetic fields emanating from everything in the room. It’s always a beautiful sight to behold. I rarely liked taking this power any further than that as it isn’t anywhere near as subtle as meddling in the thoughts of some spaceport asshole, but I had to figure I could only escape certain death so many times in one day and still be picky about it. I took a gander around the room looking for what had any magnetic trace; there wasn’t a thing I could do with the copper cabling, at least not without a current running through it. But I could see that the clamps had steel bolts. Steel has always had such a beautiful magnetic field. That was something I could work with.
As tall, dark, and creepy got up and started walking towards me he failed to notice the cables on the battery behind him rise as if coming to life like a pair of snakes; snakes with about a dozen volts of current just itching to scamper down their lengths. The tips of the clamps just kissed the lobes of his ears on either side, connecting the circuit though his brain. He was dead before he could have said, well anything really.
With that done, the knife was lifted from the table and slowly drifted towards me. It was dull, not even a vibrodagger, but I set it to work cutting lose the ropes that bound me to the chair, the knife floating freely, slowly slicing through the ropes seemingly its own.
Once liberated I simply slipped out of the cuffs (which I’ve been getting much better at as of late) and started getting my bearings.
As it would turn out they had not had time to take me to another facility, but rather another, less exploded part of the one I was already in. There were still fires raging over much of the building and in the chaos I was able to sneak back out onto the streets. Mission accomplished: I had the data.
“That went well,” I told myself, lying through my teeth. If it weren’t for the fact that I was now going to have to track down and erase everything that was just downloaded from my brain. I would consider erasing the memories of that crazy hacker lady from all the remaining organic parts of my mind.
I knew that someday I’d run into her again… and before that day came I would have to make my ass a lot less kickable.
But now I had to find a place to hide. Hide and then find Mikey.
Chapter 5 – On the Lam
Here come the drums, doctor… run!
-The master
The underworld of the Berlin Plex wasn’t as bad as I had imagined. It was much, much worse. Every major city on Earth has these places, but no one with a sense pride in their community would be willing to admit it; the cities that sit, ignored and decaying in the foundations of the plexes awayfrom light of the sun. Some say that the city down there dates back centuries, but there’s no way to know for sure; there’s almost no light in the underworld and I got a pretty good feeling that stopping to sight see down there is a one way ticket to rotting in a gutter.
I spent the night hiding in the shadows of an alley that smelled like bad feet and good cheese. It took hours to get my cybernetics working properly again, and the coding inside my cyber brain was a horrible mess but all my favorite files were still there once I pieced them pack together. Looks like she hadn’t had time to do a whole lot of actual hacking, she had the virus do most of the work. I slept under a blanket made out of, what I think was a piece of moldy dry wall and dreamt of electric sheep until I was abruptly awaked by children shifting through the garbage for their breakfast. It was as good a time as any to get the hell out of there. Priority number one would be to figure out where the hell Mikey was and how I was supposed to save him.
I rose to my feet and took a deep breath. I regretted it immediately. I quickly decided that my new priority would be to find a clean set of clothes.
I made my way to the surface, but it would be quite a while before I found a tailor that was willing to offer services rather than simply throw my ragged and foul smelling tookas back out on the street, but I soon found that was the least of my worries for when I went to check out it was discovered that someone (now, let’s not jump to name calling just yet) had froze my banking assets and I was completely broke. Thus was I thrown out of the last reputable tailor in Berlin. I used to like that town.
“Well, my old friend,” I reassured, “at least it can only go up from-”
Why do I let myself say these things. As if my thoughts were being read by the cruelest side of the very universe, the massive news monitor over the street broke out with a special news bulletin.
“- regards to the terrorist attack in Berlin yesterday, the explosions destroyed much of CISsyn corporate headquarters as well as several outlining buildings. CISyn has still not yet release information on casualties but they have assured us that all wounded are being seen to by their finest medical staff.”
Just then the screen shifted for a minute over to a picture of me. The photo featured your beloved hero in the iCom cafeteria doing what can only be described as “viciously plumbing my jowls” on my lunch a few weeks back. Barbeque sauce was smeared across my face and hands giving the image that I was feasting on the raw, bloody remains of some poor creature.
“Oh come on. That was Sloppy Joe day,” I muttered. “Who could have-”
Before I even finished the though a single name came into my head, a word that made me grit my teeth in contempt; “Hex.”
Over the streets the reported on screen continued. “The cause of the explosion has been confirmed as the work of the terrorist and Gongen agent Radical Doitzel. CISyn has reported that it is unable to release any information on this terrorist at this time, due to the attack, but they report that Doitzel is to be considered armed, dangerous, deranged, and…” The reporter squinted at what was obviously the teleprompter over the camera. “and… thick.”
Around me all the people on the street began to turn towards me, a look of odd suspicion on their faces. I had to hand it to Hex. I’ve been hounded by a lot of criminally insane people before but none of them were half as good as to leave me broke, charred, alienated, hacked, and malodorous before, certainly not all at once.
But as much as I wanted to take this time to plot my just revenge I was in far too dangerous position. Likely there was a news caster featured on a jumbotron looking down upon the Earthly inhabitants of every street in this city right now, speaking the damning message, carried over the ion stream; the message that “Doitzel is here, Doitzel hates your way of life, and Doitzel looks like this.”
It was time to reassess my plans. I was making my way to a dark alley to escape the damning eyes of the people on the street. What could I do? Where could I go? Would I have to live in the subplex until this all blew over? I had to figure that I actually had a better chance of surviving in prison for that amount of time. That’s when I bumped into a kid who I would come to know as Oscar; a name that for years to come will be indistinguishable in my mind from “tapeworm.” I was starting to think this might be a bad day.
“By Bowie’s glamour! It’s you! You’re Radical Doitzel!”
“Sorry, but you’ve got the wrong guy pal.”
“Is it true what they say on the net; that you killed hundreds of Shi on Ganymede with your bare hands?”
“Wrong guy, I’m not-”
“Is it true that you saved the Space Pope from an entire army of the Gambler’s henchmen?”
“It’s not me you little sh-”
“By Grabthar’s Hammer, this is amazing! I have to call Pete.”
“No, no, don’t you dare call Pete! I am not-”
It was too late; he had already called Pete. I know how this stuff typically goes; if I didn’t make my escape soon I would be up to my cyber eye in fan boys. Quickly I made my most daring, heroic move:
“Holy shit, look over there, behind you! It’s the entire cast of Firefly, The Doctor, and Captain Kirk all risen from the dead and wanting to watch Mystery Science Theater 3000, but they need someone who knows how to set up an antique DVD player!
“What, no, no I don’t believe you…”
“I’m serious! And look! They’re all reading and signing all the insipid fanfictions you’ve made about them!”
“Which Doctor?” he suspiciously added.
“All of them! Wait, oh no, looks like they’re about to leave! Hurry!”
He paused for a moment. I could see it in his beady, insomniatic eyes. No, he didn’t believe me, but that made no difference now. He had to turn around; the stakes were too high.
Sluggishly he maneuvered his trunk of a body around and with that I was gone.
“Aright cybernetics, do your stuff!” I cried, sprinting down the alleyway. I had to find a place to hide as fast as I could, before the net closed in around me.
Where? Hide. There! That dumpster! It’s perfect; I certainly smell like a dumpster at this point, it’s the perfect camouflage, they’d never find me in there.
I jumped in and closed the lid.
After about five minutes they opened the lid to the dumpster. I say “they,” because by then there were already three of these fan boys gathered. I had to assume one of the two new parasites was Pete.
“How the hell did you know that I would be in here?”
“It’s a cliché, the first one said. We can smell those a mile away, even when it’s in a dumpster.”
I will now spare you, the audience, of the day of supreme torture that I endured at the hands of these fanboys. While it is true that they were gracious enough to give me dinner, a new suit, and a ticket for a taxi to Luna it came at the insufferable price of their gibbering. No war has never know such relentless bombardment as I enduring with their questioning and, ironically after what I had tried to trick Oscar with, with the contents of their insipid fan fictions about me, which I was forced to autograph before they would pay for my escape.
Thankfully all bad things must come to an end and it wasn’t long before I found myself once more in a terminal checking my identity with the registrar. I wasn’t terribly worried that they’d know who I was; even if someone recognized my face from the broadcast earlier I had half a dozen different identities and alibis on hand to prove my innocence. That’s one of the great things about Earth, if you know how to play the system there’s little you can’t get away with. All I had to do to make it to iCom headquarters on Luna was convince the man at the registrar that I was Bismarck von Anhalt Dessau again. I confidently handed the attendant my registration.
“Strumpet von Scone Crumpet Dessau? Is… that you name?” She asked, processing the information.
Son of a bitch Kalingkata, I don’t need one of your poorly contrived cover IDs! “Um… no, I… huh. You know what? Yes. That’s me. What can I say, my parents were total assholes.”
“Okay, well, your papers appear to be in order, you’re free to go, enjoy your trip to Luna.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
On the large taxi liner I went over my options.
My plan was simple so far; First I had to know my new enemy. So far there were two possibilities that I could deduce about her;
1) Either she was in fact an iCom CEO, who by night works as a poison pill under the name of Chess Mistress Hex, furthering her own economic agenda with a more hands on approach when no one is looking. Or…
2) She was in fact a poison pill who as part of her current agenda infiltrated iCom as a CEO as a means of ultimately infiltrating CISsyn and blowing it up.
Neither of these seemed to make sense. I slouched down in my seat as a smug grin settled over my face. It’s always more fun when things make no sense.
Part two of my plan was to find connections with iCom or hack my way in to try and find any info on this mystery lady or maybe even better find a trail of where my own money went to.
Part three, well, okay, I didn’t have a part three yet, but I’d burn that bridge when I got there.
I began to let my eyes droop and my put my mind at ease for the first time in what felt time a million parsecs.
“I might as well enjoy the ride over,” I mumbled to myself.
And then the alarms sounded across the deck. The dash over my head read in big, red, blinking letters: HULL BREACH.
Really. Why the hell do I allow myself to say these things?
Chapter 6 – Space Oddities
“SPAAAAAAAAAAAACE!”
-Space Sphere, Portal
Laser blasts shot down the hall in rapid succession. Whoever had attacked this ship had done so armed to the teeth. Certainly more so than anyone need be when dealing with a passenger liner. Seemed like a good time to find a safer place, so I started to get up when suddenly the man in the seat next to me rose and drew a pistol from under his jacket. I had been sitting next to a flight marshal the whole time.
“Get out of the way!” he yelled, shoving me back into my seat without even a glance, and was immediately cut down in a burst of auto-fire. His bleeding, riddled corpse fell on my lap.
“Suck an elf!” I cried, pushing the body off of me and made a break for it down the cabin.
I recalled the two security guards that Hex had had back in her office. I hadn’t gotten a good look at their faces, but I had to consider if it was them. Could it be? Is Hex sending her goons to finish me off? Or maybe I was just over thinking this Hex thing and these were just pirates or any two of the hundreds of people I’ve pissed off over the years. Either way I had to get the hell off this boat.
There were still four suits left on the rack next to the starboard airlock, but none of them had any jets on them for maneuvering in open space, and all of the escape pods had already been jettisoned; they were one of the perks of flying first class. I got into one of the suits as fast as I could manage and slipped inside the airlock chamber.
The door closed just in time as the two assailants charged shoulder first against the window in determined frustration. One of them put his face up against the glass and stared at me with a mean look and through the glass mouthed something that looked like “You’re mine, you sonofabitch!”
Despite the menace in his eyes, I was put strangely at ease by seeing his face; I could see that he wasn’t either of the two guys who had been working for Hex earlier. I’ve pissed off far too many people over the years to deduce exactly who they might be working under, but it was a safe bet they were working for the Gambler, no pun intended, and if that was the case then they would need me alive.
“Let’s find out,” I pondered “just how alive they want me…” as I gently placed my hand on the airlock release switch.
The man’s eyes grew wide for a second and then he quickly turned and pushed past the other man, yelling something as he struggled to put on one of the other space suits, the other man followed close behind. Within a minute they were working at the door with a crowbar.
“Nope, not gonna be that simple, pal,” and I pulled the release lever, jettisoning myself into the void.
Suddenly all was quiet, all was calm. A minute and nothing happened. Another minute passed, and still nothing happened.
“Well,” I muttered as I drifted slowly away from the ship, “here I am.”
I thought about what I had just done. Maybe that wasn’t the most rational way to solve that particular moment, but oh well, might as well make the best of just floating helplessly in space, at least until I reached the moon. I was still traveling at the same velocity as the ship after all, and at that velocity I imagine a head on collision with the moon would hurt pretty bad, like crater bad, and I noticed that the moon was already quite close and getting closer all the while, but at least I would have a short break.
I looked back into the window on the other side of the airlock where the man had been making grumpy faces at me through. The window was much further away now, but I could see that he was gone. He and his friend had probably headed back to their ship to pick me up. Guess I’m not even allowed to have a break when I’m drifting in space.
I closed my eyes and concentrated.
You’ve got to love the forces of magnetism. It wasn’t just as a fashion statement that I’ve always worn mag-boots. Slowly I began to drift back towards the ship, pulling myself across space literally by my bootstraps back into the open airlock until I felt my feet touch down gently on the opposite door. For a moment I had to struggle with my inverted position as the artificial gravity tried to push me to the ground with my feet still magnetically sealed to the door, but after a brief session of flailing about like a hooked magikarp I was back on my feet and heading back inside the cabin.
The passenger liner had now turned from being public to private. The assailants had abandoned ship already, looking for where I had presumably drifted to by now.
“Doitzel’s personal shuttle,” I said proudly.
It sounded nice, the only real problem with it was that it was full of corpses, including the stewards, so the service would be lousy, and of course the pilots didn’t fare any better, so the landing would be a bit rough. Come to think of it the landing would probably be quite rough; I decided that I should probably do something about that.
Months later I would tell this very story to Kalingkata and he would make note of how horrible a person I was because I failed to even acknowledge the fact that dozens of innocent people had just died. Funny, you know, he’s right! But now back to the story.
I entered the cockpit and stared at the controls, hoping that if I did so long enough that I could magically learn how to fly this thing. It didn’t work. Actually it made me feel worse, since it drove home the fact that when they had shot the pilot the controls had been badly damaged in the crossfire.
I figured the best thing to do now would be to radio it all in. I turned to the hailing monitor to find that it also looked pretty fried. They had not pulled their punches on this room. Never the less I gave the transmitter a go.
“This is Major Tom to ground control.” I started.
Nothing, not even static.
“I have a message for the Action Man.”
Still nothing. This thing was fried.
I checked to make sure my suit was still sealed up.
“Well, I’ve loved all I needed to love.” I said as boldly as I could before turning back to the airlock. I stopped briefly on my way out only to pick up the sidearms of two of the flight marshals that had been gunned down during the attack. I was surprised to see how many there had actually been on that flight, but their guns were only small little things bearing the Alden Arms brand. Likely iCom valued them for their inability to punch through the hull of the ships they are trying to protect, but it looks like today they could have done with a little more firepower. Regardless, they would work for what I needed them for.
This time when I pulled the release there was a split moment where I still stood there and beheld the vastness of space as it was revealed before me. The stars looked different, but I could quite put my finger on how or why. And with that I was sucked out into the void once more.
I had no idea how powerful the ships engines had been, but it would be a mistake to assume that they were less than a GRAV 2.5 model, which has the ability to propel itself with force approximately equal to two and a half times the force of Earth’s gravitation pull. This meant that if it was at full speed when the pilots were shot, in order to slow myself down from that speed I would need to present enough force to counter falling at two and a half times terminal velocity on Earth plus the terminal velocity of the gravity of the moon as it was pulling me in or otherwise end up a crater. It sounded like an SAT question gone horribly wrong.
Almost as soon as I was expelled from the lock the vastness of space gave way to the vastness of the lunar wastes that were pulling me in. I could see the snaking complexes of surface hangers that made up the top layer of the iCom shipyards. It was all approaching very fast; I did not have a lot of time. Quickly I drew the two filched pistols and fired as fast as I could towards the moon until both were out of ammunition, blazing streaks of hot metal seared across the cold night sky. Already the shuttle was starting to sail past, proof that I had slowed, but it definitely wasn’t enough.
Again I concentrated on the magnetic fields. My body violently flipped around as my boots were pulled upwards and away from the moon.
“COME ON!” I screamed pulling with all the might my mind and body could muster.
I was tiring, my muscles felt strained, almost to the point of tearing apart. It was harder to concentrate with every passing second.
I looked straight up at the approaching surface of the moon just in time to see a huge fireball burst silently from the iCom hangar where the shuttle had been meant to land a couple of kilometers beneath me. The spaceship knew which way to go, and had reached its destination. Thank Bowie I hadn’t yet.
I upheld the strain of my improvised magnetic brakes as long as I could before I had to finally give out. I was spent. I couldn’t even move anymore much less bend the forces of nature.
My body cascaded down into and through the silent, rolling flames rising from the hangar. I could feel the warmth of the explosion through my suit as it slowly melted away. But I knew it wouldn’t. The ground would certainly meet me before the fire would, and sure enough, for an instant I saw through the smoke and flames, the ground rapidly coming up to meet me.
“This is it,” I cried, hoping that I had slowed down enough, “So it goes.”
And then I hit.
Through the leaking atmosphere of the damaged hanger and the interior of the suit, I could hear a sort of muffled ‘whump’ noise when I hit, landing hard, extremely hard, on my shoulder, and then I proceeded to roll and violently strike the ground over and over until I came to a stop at the feet of a team of firefighters who seemed very surprised to see me there. I was in IMMENSE pain, but I was alive. Lucky me.
“I think my every bone is broken.” I tried to say. But when it came out it sounded more like “Hyurr pinnntk purrrp durr bahhh.”
Yeah, I was not in good shape.
The last thing I recall before slipping into blackness was one of the firefighters taking a look at me, then turning to the side and throwing up inside his helmet.
Chapter 7 – Dystopian Rhapsody
“Why do they always land butter side down?”
-Dead like me
I woke up, again feeling very grateful that for that fact, in what was very obviously a hospital. A healthy improvement over a torture chamber, for a moment I started to think that maybe things were starting to get better for me.
“Good morning Doitzel.” A familiar voice chirped. I knew it immediately, the shock of the realization coursing through me as a jolt of fury. It was her; Hex. She had already found me again. I quickly tried to get up, to stir, anything, but I was completely unable to move my body. It was hard enough just to lift and turn my head to see her sitting there. She looked completely different from before, her face had somehow been altered, but I knew it was her; I could hear it in her voice and see it in the look in her eyes; that look that a spliced razor cat has in its eye when it looks at its prey, the look that I have in my eye when I find classic Galaga at an arcade. The look that says “I will bury you.”
“That was quite a stunt you pulled back there.”
I tried to scream, yell, curse, anything, but when I did I suddenly found myself quite unable, the adrenaline rush was so quickly over, and now I was simply too tired to be hostile. If she was going to kill me I figured that she might as well get it over with; if ever I had been defeated in my life, this was it.
“You know Hex,” I coughed, “I have been through a lot of hell since I met you.”
I thought she would have been satisfied with that confession, but she seemed just a bit disappointed.
“A lot?” She said, “Not completely? I must be losing my touch.”
For once in my life I wasn’t in the mood for witty banter. I’d had enough of this.
“If you’re going to kill me, just do it,” I grumbled. I made a quick effort to make myself comfortable in my bed, but the restraints made it impossible. Somehow I was willing to believe that Hex had planned for that too.
“I could,” she said, allowing herself a slight grin. “I could kill you.”
Ok, this was just cruel, even by my standards. It’s one thing to try to kill a guy, but it’s something very different to not finish the job and then stall when it’s time to pull the plug.
“What part of ‘just do it’ did you not get?” I groaned with as much annoyance as I could muster.
She leaned, chin on her hands, her icy stare chilling me to my fractured bones.
“Doitzel, do use that brain of yours for once. Think about everything that’s happened to you over the last few days.”
“Let’s see, you hacked my head, blew up a building I was in, zapped my accounts and ID, sent goons after me and, oh yeah, fucking kidnapped my friend. Speaking of which, where’s Mikey?”
“In due time. You’re missing one very crucial piece of the puzzle.”
In due time? Did she actually mean to let me live like this? I’d probably never walk again and she was acting like it was a fucking game.
“What?” “For the love of Odin, what the fuck am I missing?!”
“Why.” She chirped.
“What?”
“Why? Why am I doing this? Why have I gone out of my way to, using your phrasing, ‘put you through hell?’”
“You know Hexie – can I call you Hexie?” I asked, hoping it would raise my own spirits. It didn’t, but I figured I might as well try, what did I have to lose? “That’s a question that I’ve been pondering myself, and I’d love it if you’d enlighten me.”
“Because I could.” She smirked, the look of a mad scientist in her eye; that look of someone who can truthfully say “Yeah, I’ve built a walking death ray fueled by a still beating orphan heart. What of it?” And then it hit me:
Ziggy H. Tap-dancing Stardust, this had been a game all along, and I guess you could say I’d lost it. For the first time in my life I had lost a battle of wits! Was this the worthy opponent I no longer thought existed? Who was this girl? I had to admit, I was in awe, and a bit smitten in that “I’d love to smash her head in with a brick” sort of way.
Without even thinking I the words, “you psychotic bitch” came out of my mouth.
She stood up and gently picked up a syringe on table next to my head. Had she brought that in with her? Was that hers? Frantically I tried to escape, but I was far too weak to break free.
“What is that?” I shrieked.
“Hmn?”
“What is in your – goddamnit! I’ll scream rape!”
She slipped the needle into the hep lock “And you’d still be dead before they could do anything about it.”
“Why are you doing this?!” Not like this, I could not die here, not like this. If I was going to die it was going to be crashing my A-wing into the cockpit of a super-stardestroyer.
“I told you. Because I can.”
I could feel the serum working its way through me, or could I? I couldn’t tell. I felt like, like… the fuzzy… sparkle… tuba fish. There was no hope left now. Last words, I strained, I must have last words.
“This,” I slurred, “is not my best day ever.” No, stupid, stupid, I thought, those were horrible. But before I could finish the thought the whole world faded out.
The smell of the hospital slowly faded away as everything became so perfectly dark.
Was this death? Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?
Increasingly I became aware of the subtle crackling noise of a fire, the sound of a candle. That’s all that’s here? Just the sound of a candle? I was already beginning to feel a bit disappointed in the afterlife. But then the crackle slowly began to grow and grow until it roared like a wildfire.
Suddenly I could see again.
The sky was gone, this was Europa, deep underground the surface, in the industrial sectors. Of course it was, why would I be surprised? I had been fighting this battle for weeks. The reinforcements that Natsu had promised should have arrived two days ago, but we’ve had no contact with the outside since the Shi cracked our codes.
Horiation was burning all around me, the buildings melting into the pavement, flames screaming high into the skyless crown. I sat awkwardly upon a throne made of debris; cement and rebar. I found a bit of strange relief in its uncomfortable design. The rattle of distant small arms fire and thump of the occasional artillery blast joined the roar of flames. A few stray bolts of plasma and psychic energy shot by, landing randomly, charring the ground and heating the air, but I didn’t think I’d be in too much danger here, Shadow had to be somewhere nearby; doing all she could to keep me from being killed this close up to the front lines. A full time job, to be sure, but she was supremely qualified.
Mikey sat at my feet, his extended claws carving the image of a rainbow into a Shi skull which was still dripping with whatever it is that Shi bleed. An engineer approached me; he had a large communications array cybernetically built into his chest.
“Sire, the 2nd Armor has driven them from the town, but we’ve taken heavy casualties. The major requires new orders and requests that he hold up the advance long enough to regroup his forces.”
I turned to meet him; my cape flapped gently and then settled again, it was hemmed with mechanical nanofilaments that would make it flap romantically even when there was no wind.
“New orders?” I barked, “Remind the major that my orders were not to drive the enemy from Horation. My orders were to drive them TO HELL!”
Mikey stared at the man, eyeing the courier as he normally would a slice of cake. The technician stood perfectly at attention, showing no sign of fear, but a bead of sweat on his forehead betrayed him.
“If he takes time to regroup, so will the enemy. Tell him that he must keep pushing them back until he can link up with General Aequitas, we must secure the east side tram tunnels, or else we’ll have accomplished nothing today, and his men will have died in vain!”
The engineer quickly went to work, directing communications.
The skyless horizon burned dully, a modest breeze rose from the heat and wafted through my hair, blanketing my face with the strong scent of smoke and gasoline; the scent of death; the scent of victory.
“Bowie’s will…” I whispered.
“Sire?” The man asked tentatively, already finished with his task.
I looked down and pierced his gaze with my own. My cape took this opportunity to flaunt itself proudly. It was time for this day to end, one way or another.
“Send in Dragonett’s Brigade!”
“Yes m’Lord!”
Within seconds the roaring hum of hundreds of combat speeders and nano-edged vibroaxes permeated the air. Companies of infantry and air-cavalry charged past all around, unleashing a frenzied, blood and spit curdling wail as they sallied madly forth into the carnage. A cargo walker fitted with massive speakers clanged and whirred up, next to my throne and there came to a stop. A deafening drum beat was bursting from the sound systems, spurring the troops in their frenzy. Atop I could see Sparky, reflecting contently upon the whispers of war that made it through his headphones.
“Reverend!” I screamed happily over the resonance of the slaughter; “bring to my troops the word of God!”
He drew from the alter built into the dashboard a large papyrus scroll, opened it upon the alter, and into the microphone began to read from the lost tomes of the holy prophet in the all of the fury of caps lock:
“I OPENED MY EYES TO LOOK AROUND, AND I SAW A CHILD LAYED SLAIN ON THE GROUND, AS THE LOVE MACHINES RUMBLED THROUGH DESOLATION ROWS, PLOUGHING DOWN MEN, WOMEN, LISTENING TO IT’S COMMAND!”
As the final words were spoken I was struck. Over the glorious noise I could not hear the scream of the enemy mortar before it came down, exploding just beneath the walker, shattering its starboard leg array.* The force of the blast threw me back, pelting me violently with bits of pavement and shrapnel. I could feel the flesh of my body being torn away* and once again, everything turned to darkness.
I was caught in a landslide with no escape from reality.
I opened my eyes and awoke once more, grateful for the fact; I was detecting a pattern there. The darkness quickly faded away, but the pain remained. I was still in the hospital. The war had not begun, at least not yet.
“Have a nice dream?”
I looked up to see a dark figure still over my bed.
At first I panicked, afraid that Hex was still there, but as my eyes focused I saw that it was a nurse, and more importantly I could see that the nurse had a very different look in her eye than Hex had before. I decided that I was safe, at least for now.
“You kept mentioning ‘Horation,’ is that someone important to you?”
“It’s not a who, it’s a where. It’s where I was born.”
Oh, and where is that exactly? She said, somewhat disinterested, as she checked my readings on the monitor.
“A very long ways from here.” I said, and slowly came to realize, “Here is a long way from home…”
“Well, good news is that before too long you can have the chance to get right back there, you’re lucky, most of the people we pulled out of that hanger can’t say the same thing right now.”
“Yeah, well it doesn’t feel like I’ve been healing, actually I feel worse than before.”
“We had to cut the anesthetics, somehow you came into contact with an unknown narcotic, so until we can identify it or it passes out of your system we can’t afford to give you any drugs.”
“Great,” I said lacking the strength, but not the will to flip a Dalek in frustration. “That’s just great.”
Will all iCom’s horses and all iCom’s men ever put Doitzel together again? Did the completely author forget about the plot to find Mikey? And magnets; how do they work? These questions and maybe some painkillers await in part 3 of EPIC OF DOITZEL!
*to shreds you say
“Hey, I’m Doitzel, and I’m super awesome.”
“Hey, I’m Hex and Doitzel’s not so awesome.”
“Holy crap, that guy has a cheese grater!”
And now back to our story.
Clearly this man had no sense of humor, and unfortunately for him I was in no mood with the day I’d had to become an ingredient for salad.
I closed my eyes to concentrate; when I opened them again I could see and feel the magnetic fields emanating from everything in the room. It’s always a beautiful sight to behold. I rarely liked taking this power any further than that as it isn’t anywhere near as subtle as meddling in the thoughts of some spaceport asshole, but I had to figure I could only escape certain death so many times in one day and still be picky about it. I took a gander around the room looking for what had any magnetic trace; there wasn’t a thing I could do with the copper cabling, at least not without a current running through it. But I could see that the clamps had steel bolts. Steel has always had such a beautiful magnetic field. That was something I could work with.
As tall, dark, and creepy got up and started walking towards me he failed to notice the cables on the battery behind him rise as if coming to life like a pair of snakes; snakes with about a dozen volts of current just itching to scamper down their lengths. The tips of the clamps just kissed the lobes of his ears on either side, connecting the circuit though his brain. He was dead before he could have said, well anything really.
With that done, the knife was lifted from the table and slowly drifted towards me. It was dull, not even a vibrodagger, but I set it to work cutting lose the ropes that bound me to the chair, the knife floating freely, slowly slicing through the ropes seemingly its own.
Once liberated I simply slipped out of the cuffs (which I’ve been getting much better at as of late) and started getting my bearings.
As it would turn out they had not had time to take me to another facility, but rather another, less exploded part of the one I was already in. There were still fires raging over much of the building and in the chaos I was able to sneak back out onto the streets. Mission accomplished: I had the data.
“That went well,” I told myself, lying through my teeth. If it weren’t for the fact that I was now going to have to track down and erase everything that was just downloaded from my brain. I would consider erasing the memories of that crazy hacker lady from all the remaining organic parts of my mind.
I knew that someday I’d run into her again… and before that day came I would have to make my ass a lot less kickable.
But now I had to find a place to hide. Hide and then find Mikey.
Chapter 5 – On the Lam
Here come the drums, doctor… run!
-The master
The underworld of the Berlin Plex wasn’t as bad as I had imagined. It was much, much worse. Every major city on Earth has these places, but no one with a sense pride in their community would be willing to admit it; the cities that sit, ignored and decaying in the foundations of the plexes awayfrom light of the sun. Some say that the city down there dates back centuries, but there’s no way to know for sure; there’s almost no light in the underworld and I got a pretty good feeling that stopping to sight see down there is a one way ticket to rotting in a gutter.
I spent the night hiding in the shadows of an alley that smelled like bad feet and good cheese. It took hours to get my cybernetics working properly again, and the coding inside my cyber brain was a horrible mess but all my favorite files were still there once I pieced them pack together. Looks like she hadn’t had time to do a whole lot of actual hacking, she had the virus do most of the work. I slept under a blanket made out of, what I think was a piece of moldy dry wall and dreamt of electric sheep until I was abruptly awaked by children shifting through the garbage for their breakfast. It was as good a time as any to get the hell out of there. Priority number one would be to figure out where the hell Mikey was and how I was supposed to save him.
I rose to my feet and took a deep breath. I regretted it immediately. I quickly decided that my new priority would be to find a clean set of clothes.
I made my way to the surface, but it would be quite a while before I found a tailor that was willing to offer services rather than simply throw my ragged and foul smelling tookas back out on the street, but I soon found that was the least of my worries for when I went to check out it was discovered that someone (now, let’s not jump to name calling just yet) had froze my banking assets and I was completely broke. Thus was I thrown out of the last reputable tailor in Berlin. I used to like that town.
“Well, my old friend,” I reassured, “at least it can only go up from-”
Why do I let myself say these things. As if my thoughts were being read by the cruelest side of the very universe, the massive news monitor over the street broke out with a special news bulletin.
“- regards to the terrorist attack in Berlin yesterday, the explosions destroyed much of CISsyn corporate headquarters as well as several outlining buildings. CISyn has still not yet release information on casualties but they have assured us that all wounded are being seen to by their finest medical staff.”
Just then the screen shifted for a minute over to a picture of me. The photo featured your beloved hero in the iCom cafeteria doing what can only be described as “viciously plumbing my jowls” on my lunch a few weeks back. Barbeque sauce was smeared across my face and hands giving the image that I was feasting on the raw, bloody remains of some poor creature.
“Oh come on. That was Sloppy Joe day,” I muttered. “Who could have-”
Before I even finished the though a single name came into my head, a word that made me grit my teeth in contempt; “Hex.”
Over the streets the reported on screen continued. “The cause of the explosion has been confirmed as the work of the terrorist and Gongen agent Radical Doitzel. CISyn has reported that it is unable to release any information on this terrorist at this time, due to the attack, but they report that Doitzel is to be considered armed, dangerous, deranged, and…” The reporter squinted at what was obviously the teleprompter over the camera. “and… thick.”
Around me all the people on the street began to turn towards me, a look of odd suspicion on their faces. I had to hand it to Hex. I’ve been hounded by a lot of criminally insane people before but none of them were half as good as to leave me broke, charred, alienated, hacked, and malodorous before, certainly not all at once.
But as much as I wanted to take this time to plot my just revenge I was in far too dangerous position. Likely there was a news caster featured on a jumbotron looking down upon the Earthly inhabitants of every street in this city right now, speaking the damning message, carried over the ion stream; the message that “Doitzel is here, Doitzel hates your way of life, and Doitzel looks like this.”
It was time to reassess my plans. I was making my way to a dark alley to escape the damning eyes of the people on the street. What could I do? Where could I go? Would I have to live in the subplex until this all blew over? I had to figure that I actually had a better chance of surviving in prison for that amount of time. That’s when I bumped into a kid who I would come to know as Oscar; a name that for years to come will be indistinguishable in my mind from “tapeworm.” I was starting to think this might be a bad day.
“By Bowie’s glamour! It’s you! You’re Radical Doitzel!”
“Sorry, but you’ve got the wrong guy pal.”
“Is it true what they say on the net; that you killed hundreds of Shi on Ganymede with your bare hands?”
“Wrong guy, I’m not-”
“Is it true that you saved the Space Pope from an entire army of the Gambler’s henchmen?”
“It’s not me you little sh-”
“By Grabthar’s Hammer, this is amazing! I have to call Pete.”
“No, no, don’t you dare call Pete! I am not-”
It was too late; he had already called Pete. I know how this stuff typically goes; if I didn’t make my escape soon I would be up to my cyber eye in fan boys. Quickly I made my most daring, heroic move:
“Holy shit, look over there, behind you! It’s the entire cast of Firefly, The Doctor, and Captain Kirk all risen from the dead and wanting to watch Mystery Science Theater 3000, but they need someone who knows how to set up an antique DVD player!
“What, no, no I don’t believe you…”
“I’m serious! And look! They’re all reading and signing all the insipid fanfictions you’ve made about them!”
“Which Doctor?” he suspiciously added.
“All of them! Wait, oh no, looks like they’re about to leave! Hurry!”
He paused for a moment. I could see it in his beady, insomniatic eyes. No, he didn’t believe me, but that made no difference now. He had to turn around; the stakes were too high.
Sluggishly he maneuvered his trunk of a body around and with that I was gone.
“Aright cybernetics, do your stuff!” I cried, sprinting down the alleyway. I had to find a place to hide as fast as I could, before the net closed in around me.
Where? Hide. There! That dumpster! It’s perfect; I certainly smell like a dumpster at this point, it’s the perfect camouflage, they’d never find me in there.
I jumped in and closed the lid.
After about five minutes they opened the lid to the dumpster. I say “they,” because by then there were already three of these fan boys gathered. I had to assume one of the two new parasites was Pete.
“How the hell did you know that I would be in here?”
“It’s a cliché, the first one said. We can smell those a mile away, even when it’s in a dumpster.”
I will now spare you, the audience, of the day of supreme torture that I endured at the hands of these fanboys. While it is true that they were gracious enough to give me dinner, a new suit, and a ticket for a taxi to Luna it came at the insufferable price of their gibbering. No war has never know such relentless bombardment as I enduring with their questioning and, ironically after what I had tried to trick Oscar with, with the contents of their insipid fan fictions about me, which I was forced to autograph before they would pay for my escape.
Thankfully all bad things must come to an end and it wasn’t long before I found myself once more in a terminal checking my identity with the registrar. I wasn’t terribly worried that they’d know who I was; even if someone recognized my face from the broadcast earlier I had half a dozen different identities and alibis on hand to prove my innocence. That’s one of the great things about Earth, if you know how to play the system there’s little you can’t get away with. All I had to do to make it to iCom headquarters on Luna was convince the man at the registrar that I was Bismarck von Anhalt Dessau again. I confidently handed the attendant my registration.
“Strumpet von Scone Crumpet Dessau? Is… that you name?” She asked, processing the information.
Son of a bitch Kalingkata, I don’t need one of your poorly contrived cover IDs! “Um… no, I… huh. You know what? Yes. That’s me. What can I say, my parents were total assholes.”
“Okay, well, your papers appear to be in order, you’re free to go, enjoy your trip to Luna.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
On the large taxi liner I went over my options.
My plan was simple so far; First I had to know my new enemy. So far there were two possibilities that I could deduce about her;
1) Either she was in fact an iCom CEO, who by night works as a poison pill under the name of Chess Mistress Hex, furthering her own economic agenda with a more hands on approach when no one is looking. Or…
2) She was in fact a poison pill who as part of her current agenda infiltrated iCom as a CEO as a means of ultimately infiltrating CISsyn and blowing it up.
Neither of these seemed to make sense. I slouched down in my seat as a smug grin settled over my face. It’s always more fun when things make no sense.
Part two of my plan was to find connections with iCom or hack my way in to try and find any info on this mystery lady or maybe even better find a trail of where my own money went to.
Part three, well, okay, I didn’t have a part three yet, but I’d burn that bridge when I got there.
I began to let my eyes droop and my put my mind at ease for the first time in what felt time a million parsecs.
“I might as well enjoy the ride over,” I mumbled to myself.
And then the alarms sounded across the deck. The dash over my head read in big, red, blinking letters: HULL BREACH.
Really. Why the hell do I allow myself to say these things?
Chapter 6 – Space Oddities
“SPAAAAAAAAAAAACE!”
-Space Sphere, Portal
Laser blasts shot down the hall in rapid succession. Whoever had attacked this ship had done so armed to the teeth. Certainly more so than anyone need be when dealing with a passenger liner. Seemed like a good time to find a safer place, so I started to get up when suddenly the man in the seat next to me rose and drew a pistol from under his jacket. I had been sitting next to a flight marshal the whole time.
“Get out of the way!” he yelled, shoving me back into my seat without even a glance, and was immediately cut down in a burst of auto-fire. His bleeding, riddled corpse fell on my lap.
“Suck an elf!” I cried, pushing the body off of me and made a break for it down the cabin.
I recalled the two security guards that Hex had had back in her office. I hadn’t gotten a good look at their faces, but I had to consider if it was them. Could it be? Is Hex sending her goons to finish me off? Or maybe I was just over thinking this Hex thing and these were just pirates or any two of the hundreds of people I’ve pissed off over the years. Either way I had to get the hell off this boat.
There were still four suits left on the rack next to the starboard airlock, but none of them had any jets on them for maneuvering in open space, and all of the escape pods had already been jettisoned; they were one of the perks of flying first class. I got into one of the suits as fast as I could manage and slipped inside the airlock chamber.
The door closed just in time as the two assailants charged shoulder first against the window in determined frustration. One of them put his face up against the glass and stared at me with a mean look and through the glass mouthed something that looked like “You’re mine, you sonofabitch!”
Despite the menace in his eyes, I was put strangely at ease by seeing his face; I could see that he wasn’t either of the two guys who had been working for Hex earlier. I’ve pissed off far too many people over the years to deduce exactly who they might be working under, but it was a safe bet they were working for the Gambler, no pun intended, and if that was the case then they would need me alive.
“Let’s find out,” I pondered “just how alive they want me…” as I gently placed my hand on the airlock release switch.
The man’s eyes grew wide for a second and then he quickly turned and pushed past the other man, yelling something as he struggled to put on one of the other space suits, the other man followed close behind. Within a minute they were working at the door with a crowbar.
“Nope, not gonna be that simple, pal,” and I pulled the release lever, jettisoning myself into the void.
Suddenly all was quiet, all was calm. A minute and nothing happened. Another minute passed, and still nothing happened.
“Well,” I muttered as I drifted slowly away from the ship, “here I am.”
I thought about what I had just done. Maybe that wasn’t the most rational way to solve that particular moment, but oh well, might as well make the best of just floating helplessly in space, at least until I reached the moon. I was still traveling at the same velocity as the ship after all, and at that velocity I imagine a head on collision with the moon would hurt pretty bad, like crater bad, and I noticed that the moon was already quite close and getting closer all the while, but at least I would have a short break.
I looked back into the window on the other side of the airlock where the man had been making grumpy faces at me through. The window was much further away now, but I could see that he was gone. He and his friend had probably headed back to their ship to pick me up. Guess I’m not even allowed to have a break when I’m drifting in space.
I closed my eyes and concentrated.
You’ve got to love the forces of magnetism. It wasn’t just as a fashion statement that I’ve always worn mag-boots. Slowly I began to drift back towards the ship, pulling myself across space literally by my bootstraps back into the open airlock until I felt my feet touch down gently on the opposite door. For a moment I had to struggle with my inverted position as the artificial gravity tried to push me to the ground with my feet still magnetically sealed to the door, but after a brief session of flailing about like a hooked magikarp I was back on my feet and heading back inside the cabin.
The passenger liner had now turned from being public to private. The assailants had abandoned ship already, looking for where I had presumably drifted to by now.
“Doitzel’s personal shuttle,” I said proudly.
It sounded nice, the only real problem with it was that it was full of corpses, including the stewards, so the service would be lousy, and of course the pilots didn’t fare any better, so the landing would be a bit rough. Come to think of it the landing would probably be quite rough; I decided that I should probably do something about that.
Months later I would tell this very story to Kalingkata and he would make note of how horrible a person I was because I failed to even acknowledge the fact that dozens of innocent people had just died. Funny, you know, he’s right! But now back to the story.
I entered the cockpit and stared at the controls, hoping that if I did so long enough that I could magically learn how to fly this thing. It didn’t work. Actually it made me feel worse, since it drove home the fact that when they had shot the pilot the controls had been badly damaged in the crossfire.
I figured the best thing to do now would be to radio it all in. I turned to the hailing monitor to find that it also looked pretty fried. They had not pulled their punches on this room. Never the less I gave the transmitter a go.
“This is Major Tom to ground control.” I started.
Nothing, not even static.
“I have a message for the Action Man.”
Still nothing. This thing was fried.
I checked to make sure my suit was still sealed up.
“Well, I’ve loved all I needed to love.” I said as boldly as I could before turning back to the airlock. I stopped briefly on my way out only to pick up the sidearms of two of the flight marshals that had been gunned down during the attack. I was surprised to see how many there had actually been on that flight, but their guns were only small little things bearing the Alden Arms brand. Likely iCom valued them for their inability to punch through the hull of the ships they are trying to protect, but it looks like today they could have done with a little more firepower. Regardless, they would work for what I needed them for.
This time when I pulled the release there was a split moment where I still stood there and beheld the vastness of space as it was revealed before me. The stars looked different, but I could quite put my finger on how or why. And with that I was sucked out into the void once more.
I had no idea how powerful the ships engines had been, but it would be a mistake to assume that they were less than a GRAV 2.5 model, which has the ability to propel itself with force approximately equal to two and a half times the force of Earth’s gravitation pull. This meant that if it was at full speed when the pilots were shot, in order to slow myself down from that speed I would need to present enough force to counter falling at two and a half times terminal velocity on Earth plus the terminal velocity of the gravity of the moon as it was pulling me in or otherwise end up a crater. It sounded like an SAT question gone horribly wrong.
Almost as soon as I was expelled from the lock the vastness of space gave way to the vastness of the lunar wastes that were pulling me in. I could see the snaking complexes of surface hangers that made up the top layer of the iCom shipyards. It was all approaching very fast; I did not have a lot of time. Quickly I drew the two filched pistols and fired as fast as I could towards the moon until both were out of ammunition, blazing streaks of hot metal seared across the cold night sky. Already the shuttle was starting to sail past, proof that I had slowed, but it definitely wasn’t enough.
Again I concentrated on the magnetic fields. My body violently flipped around as my boots were pulled upwards and away from the moon.
“COME ON!” I screamed pulling with all the might my mind and body could muster.
I was tiring, my muscles felt strained, almost to the point of tearing apart. It was harder to concentrate with every passing second.
I looked straight up at the approaching surface of the moon just in time to see a huge fireball burst silently from the iCom hangar where the shuttle had been meant to land a couple of kilometers beneath me. The spaceship knew which way to go, and had reached its destination. Thank Bowie I hadn’t yet.
I upheld the strain of my improvised magnetic brakes as long as I could before I had to finally give out. I was spent. I couldn’t even move anymore much less bend the forces of nature.
My body cascaded down into and through the silent, rolling flames rising from the hangar. I could feel the warmth of the explosion through my suit as it slowly melted away. But I knew it wouldn’t. The ground would certainly meet me before the fire would, and sure enough, for an instant I saw through the smoke and flames, the ground rapidly coming up to meet me.
“This is it,” I cried, hoping that I had slowed down enough, “So it goes.”
And then I hit.
Through the leaking atmosphere of the damaged hanger and the interior of the suit, I could hear a sort of muffled ‘whump’ noise when I hit, landing hard, extremely hard, on my shoulder, and then I proceeded to roll and violently strike the ground over and over until I came to a stop at the feet of a team of firefighters who seemed very surprised to see me there. I was in IMMENSE pain, but I was alive. Lucky me.
“I think my every bone is broken.” I tried to say. But when it came out it sounded more like “Hyurr pinnntk purrrp durr bahhh.”
Yeah, I was not in good shape.
The last thing I recall before slipping into blackness was one of the firefighters taking a look at me, then turning to the side and throwing up inside his helmet.
Chapter 7 – Dystopian Rhapsody
“Why do they always land butter side down?”
-Dead like me
I woke up, again feeling very grateful that for that fact, in what was very obviously a hospital. A healthy improvement over a torture chamber, for a moment I started to think that maybe things were starting to get better for me.
“Good morning Doitzel.” A familiar voice chirped. I knew it immediately, the shock of the realization coursing through me as a jolt of fury. It was her; Hex. She had already found me again. I quickly tried to get up, to stir, anything, but I was completely unable to move my body. It was hard enough just to lift and turn my head to see her sitting there. She looked completely different from before, her face had somehow been altered, but I knew it was her; I could hear it in her voice and see it in the look in her eyes; that look that a spliced razor cat has in its eye when it looks at its prey, the look that I have in my eye when I find classic Galaga at an arcade. The look that says “I will bury you.”
“That was quite a stunt you pulled back there.”
I tried to scream, yell, curse, anything, but when I did I suddenly found myself quite unable, the adrenaline rush was so quickly over, and now I was simply too tired to be hostile. If she was going to kill me I figured that she might as well get it over with; if ever I had been defeated in my life, this was it.
“You know Hex,” I coughed, “I have been through a lot of hell since I met you.”
I thought she would have been satisfied with that confession, but she seemed just a bit disappointed.
“A lot?” She said, “Not completely? I must be losing my touch.”
For once in my life I wasn’t in the mood for witty banter. I’d had enough of this.
“If you’re going to kill me, just do it,” I grumbled. I made a quick effort to make myself comfortable in my bed, but the restraints made it impossible. Somehow I was willing to believe that Hex had planned for that too.
“I could,” she said, allowing herself a slight grin. “I could kill you.”
Ok, this was just cruel, even by my standards. It’s one thing to try to kill a guy, but it’s something very different to not finish the job and then stall when it’s time to pull the plug.
“What part of ‘just do it’ did you not get?” I groaned with as much annoyance as I could muster.
She leaned, chin on her hands, her icy stare chilling me to my fractured bones.
“Doitzel, do use that brain of yours for once. Think about everything that’s happened to you over the last few days.”
“Let’s see, you hacked my head, blew up a building I was in, zapped my accounts and ID, sent goons after me and, oh yeah, fucking kidnapped my friend. Speaking of which, where’s Mikey?”
“In due time. You’re missing one very crucial piece of the puzzle.”
In due time? Did she actually mean to let me live like this? I’d probably never walk again and she was acting like it was a fucking game.
“What?” “For the love of Odin, what the fuck am I missing?!”
“Why.” She chirped.
“What?”
“Why? Why am I doing this? Why have I gone out of my way to, using your phrasing, ‘put you through hell?’”
“You know Hexie – can I call you Hexie?” I asked, hoping it would raise my own spirits. It didn’t, but I figured I might as well try, what did I have to lose? “That’s a question that I’ve been pondering myself, and I’d love it if you’d enlighten me.”
“Because I could.” She smirked, the look of a mad scientist in her eye; that look of someone who can truthfully say “Yeah, I’ve built a walking death ray fueled by a still beating orphan heart. What of it?” And then it hit me:
Ziggy H. Tap-dancing Stardust, this had been a game all along, and I guess you could say I’d lost it. For the first time in my life I had lost a battle of wits! Was this the worthy opponent I no longer thought existed? Who was this girl? I had to admit, I was in awe, and a bit smitten in that “I’d love to smash her head in with a brick” sort of way.
Without even thinking I the words, “you psychotic bitch” came out of my mouth.
She stood up and gently picked up a syringe on table next to my head. Had she brought that in with her? Was that hers? Frantically I tried to escape, but I was far too weak to break free.
“What is that?” I shrieked.
“Hmn?”
“What is in your – goddamnit! I’ll scream rape!”
She slipped the needle into the hep lock “And you’d still be dead before they could do anything about it.”
“Why are you doing this?!” Not like this, I could not die here, not like this. If I was going to die it was going to be crashing my A-wing into the cockpit of a super-stardestroyer.
“I told you. Because I can.”
I could feel the serum working its way through me, or could I? I couldn’t tell. I felt like, like… the fuzzy… sparkle… tuba fish. There was no hope left now. Last words, I strained, I must have last words.
“This,” I slurred, “is not my best day ever.” No, stupid, stupid, I thought, those were horrible. But before I could finish the thought the whole world faded out.
The smell of the hospital slowly faded away as everything became so perfectly dark.
Was this death? Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?
Increasingly I became aware of the subtle crackling noise of a fire, the sound of a candle. That’s all that’s here? Just the sound of a candle? I was already beginning to feel a bit disappointed in the afterlife. But then the crackle slowly began to grow and grow until it roared like a wildfire.
Suddenly I could see again.
The sky was gone, this was Europa, deep underground the surface, in the industrial sectors. Of course it was, why would I be surprised? I had been fighting this battle for weeks. The reinforcements that Natsu had promised should have arrived two days ago, but we’ve had no contact with the outside since the Shi cracked our codes.
Horiation was burning all around me, the buildings melting into the pavement, flames screaming high into the skyless crown. I sat awkwardly upon a throne made of debris; cement and rebar. I found a bit of strange relief in its uncomfortable design. The rattle of distant small arms fire and thump of the occasional artillery blast joined the roar of flames. A few stray bolts of plasma and psychic energy shot by, landing randomly, charring the ground and heating the air, but I didn’t think I’d be in too much danger here, Shadow had to be somewhere nearby; doing all she could to keep me from being killed this close up to the front lines. A full time job, to be sure, but she was supremely qualified.
Mikey sat at my feet, his extended claws carving the image of a rainbow into a Shi skull which was still dripping with whatever it is that Shi bleed. An engineer approached me; he had a large communications array cybernetically built into his chest.
“Sire, the 2nd Armor has driven them from the town, but we’ve taken heavy casualties. The major requires new orders and requests that he hold up the advance long enough to regroup his forces.”
I turned to meet him; my cape flapped gently and then settled again, it was hemmed with mechanical nanofilaments that would make it flap romantically even when there was no wind.
“New orders?” I barked, “Remind the major that my orders were not to drive the enemy from Horation. My orders were to drive them TO HELL!”
Mikey stared at the man, eyeing the courier as he normally would a slice of cake. The technician stood perfectly at attention, showing no sign of fear, but a bead of sweat on his forehead betrayed him.
“If he takes time to regroup, so will the enemy. Tell him that he must keep pushing them back until he can link up with General Aequitas, we must secure the east side tram tunnels, or else we’ll have accomplished nothing today, and his men will have died in vain!”
The engineer quickly went to work, directing communications.
The skyless horizon burned dully, a modest breeze rose from the heat and wafted through my hair, blanketing my face with the strong scent of smoke and gasoline; the scent of death; the scent of victory.
“Bowie’s will…” I whispered.
“Sire?” The man asked tentatively, already finished with his task.
I looked down and pierced his gaze with my own. My cape took this opportunity to flaunt itself proudly. It was time for this day to end, one way or another.
“Send in Dragonett’s Brigade!”
“Yes m’Lord!”
Within seconds the roaring hum of hundreds of combat speeders and nano-edged vibroaxes permeated the air. Companies of infantry and air-cavalry charged past all around, unleashing a frenzied, blood and spit curdling wail as they sallied madly forth into the carnage. A cargo walker fitted with massive speakers clanged and whirred up, next to my throne and there came to a stop. A deafening drum beat was bursting from the sound systems, spurring the troops in their frenzy. Atop I could see Sparky, reflecting contently upon the whispers of war that made it through his headphones.
“Reverend!” I screamed happily over the resonance of the slaughter; “bring to my troops the word of God!”
He drew from the alter built into the dashboard a large papyrus scroll, opened it upon the alter, and into the microphone began to read from the lost tomes of the holy prophet in the all of the fury of caps lock:
“I OPENED MY EYES TO LOOK AROUND, AND I SAW A CHILD LAYED SLAIN ON THE GROUND, AS THE LOVE MACHINES RUMBLED THROUGH DESOLATION ROWS, PLOUGHING DOWN MEN, WOMEN, LISTENING TO IT’S COMMAND!”
As the final words were spoken I was struck. Over the glorious noise I could not hear the scream of the enemy mortar before it came down, exploding just beneath the walker, shattering its starboard leg array.* The force of the blast threw me back, pelting me violently with bits of pavement and shrapnel. I could feel the flesh of my body being torn away* and once again, everything turned to darkness.
I was caught in a landslide with no escape from reality.
I opened my eyes and awoke once more, grateful for the fact; I was detecting a pattern there. The darkness quickly faded away, but the pain remained. I was still in the hospital. The war had not begun, at least not yet.
“Have a nice dream?”
I looked up to see a dark figure still over my bed.
At first I panicked, afraid that Hex was still there, but as my eyes focused I saw that it was a nurse, and more importantly I could see that the nurse had a very different look in her eye than Hex had before. I decided that I was safe, at least for now.
“You kept mentioning ‘Horation,’ is that someone important to you?”
“It’s not a who, it’s a where. It’s where I was born.”
Oh, and where is that exactly? She said, somewhat disinterested, as she checked my readings on the monitor.
“A very long ways from here.” I said, and slowly came to realize, “Here is a long way from home…”
“Well, good news is that before too long you can have the chance to get right back there, you’re lucky, most of the people we pulled out of that hanger can’t say the same thing right now.”
“Yeah, well it doesn’t feel like I’ve been healing, actually I feel worse than before.”
“We had to cut the anesthetics, somehow you came into contact with an unknown narcotic, so until we can identify it or it passes out of your system we can’t afford to give you any drugs.”
“Great,” I said lacking the strength, but not the will to flip a Dalek in frustration. “That’s just great.”
Will all iCom’s horses and all iCom’s men ever put Doitzel together again? Did the completely author forget about the plot to find Mikey? And magnets; how do they work? These questions and maybe some painkillers await in part 3 of EPIC OF DOITZEL!
*to shreds you say