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Chapter 2 : Sphere
The Dobermans closed in on their target, rounding the corner at full, snarling speed, one of them hurriedly leaping over a rusted filing cabinet. The turtle, however, was gone before they ever spotted him. The guard dogs halted their pursuit where Donatello had last stood, snuffling busily at the ground, unable to pick up a new scent, and communicating their confusion through worried barks and whining.
Donnie sighed as he looked down at the dogs from his perch atop a gutted 1991 Chrysler. He was, if anything, a ninja, and a swift, acrobatic leap landed him atop the junk heap he now occupied. But that didn't discount his forgetfulness. Any other day, he'd have come prepared with a few dog biscuits, maybe a package of Oscar Mayer wieners – the dogs were real pushovers. But today he was empty-handed. If only Leo hadn't distracted him with peanut butter back at the lair.
Nah…who do I think I'm kidding? This wasn't about Leo, or peanut butter. It was about Donnie's current project, and his preoccupation with it. He shook his head, and ducked down behind the Chrysler as the dogs lifted their heads to bark in his direction. The guard would be by soon to see what they were fussing about, so the turtle needed to make himself scarce. For the moment, though, the ground, and any escape route, was off limits. He took a seat atop a broken milk crate. Snuggled between pieces of metallic scrap and feeling very much like a treed cat, he proceeded to question his daytime excursion.
There'd been no real reason he'd needed to go out before dusk… just the preoccupation. The fact that the device, his idea, didn't work. In the end, of course, he blamed Raph for kicking the damned thing across the lair. In actuality, the monitor didn't work before Raph punted it, and there was the issue: Donnie didn't know why. After working on it day and night, for weeks, it needed this junk trip before Raphael's kindly assistance just as much as after.
"Now you shut yer yappin', there ain't nobody here!" The guard complained over the whining barks of the dogs on the other side of Don's junk heap. He didn't hear the man, as he stared contemplatively across the cluttered lot, lost in the idea that he'd missed something, somehow. This monitor was important to him, it was a chance to really help his brothers on the battlefield, and it took just a little bit of the edge off of their way of life. But now, with the Dobermans on alert, the yard was barely workable. Because of Donnie's own impatience, this trip was a bust, and he—
The sunlight hit something very, very shiny, just across the lot. It glittered and glinted bright enough to pull Don from his pessimistic train of thought, and he squinted at it, trying to get a better look. It was most definitely the only piece of polished chrome in the whole place. Donnie looked at it apathetically for a moment, before finally deciding to get off his shell and check it out. As he began to navigate his way down the mountain of trash, glancing back over his shoulder to make sure the guard had gone with his growling pets, he thought that even if he came home with a brand new floor lamp, the day wasn't a complete loss.
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The setting sun danced across the edge of Leo's blade as he pulled the weapon from its sheath. Finally, the rooftop offered him some solace. The chatter of the television and the grinding of motorcycle engines had plagued him for the better part of the day, leaving the terrapin grouchy and impatient. His ki felt scattered.
Leo took in a deep breath as he focused on the weight of the katana in his hand. A cool breeze picked up, tossing the royal blue fabric of his bandana across his shoulder, while the warm, orangey glow of the summer sunset cast a golden wash over the terrapin's green skin. His brow furrowed in thought as he lifted the sword, and began the dance.
If his brothers bothered to train only half as much as Leo did, they wouldn't be nearly as distracting. He knew that they irked each other just as much as they irked him, but was that lack of discipline, or just sibling rivalry? They all seemed preoccupied, lately, and it no doubt lent to their need for space. Raph spent most of his time with Casey, as they worked on their bikes, and Michaelangelo had made a habit of floating among his brothers, checking nerves, until he finally settled down with some comic books or a video game. Don had been holed up with his latest project for some time.
Leo turned with a sudden kiai, angling the blade downward as he held it with both hands. His movement was powerful, but at the same time, slow, and precise, as he paced himself through the kata.
He was worried. Something was going on in his family, and as the self-appointed leader among his brothers, he felt responsible. They were separate, dissociated with each other's routines. However, they each had their unique interests, and he couldn't fault them for that. If each of them trained and fought exactly like Leo, they wouldn't be a team, and they wouldn't have made it as far as they had. Maybe Leo was looking too deeply into it.
Maybe they were just growing up.
Leo chuckled to himself, quietly, and spun the katana in his hand as he stood a little straighter, pulling himself out of a walking stance. Mikey would never grow up.
The wind played across the rooftop again, blowing a plastic bag noisily across the graveled surface. Leonardo's eyes followed the movement, but the sudden increased strength in the wind made him look back over his shoulder toward the glowing sun. The air whipped chaotically over the building, tossing bits of gravel into the air, and causing Leo's bandana to snap wildly behind him. His eyes widened in surprise, as two black helicopters rose up over the edge of the building, looming ominously in the sky directly overhead.
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Donnie crossed his arms, and raised a brow at the shiny chrome object. It was a sphere, perfectly round and smooth, and perfectly deceiving from afar. It was probably someone's discarded garden décor, one of those tacky gazing balls. Don scratched the back of his head with a sigh, and kicked a small stone across the dirt at the pile of junk the chrome ball sat in. He'd turned to head for the fence, when a low humming caught his attention, and he stopped to look back, eyeing the sphere suspiciously.
It was humming.
Don moved to get a closer look, curious as to why a stationary lawn ornament would be battery operated, his toes sinking into the sandy dirt as he leaned forward. Not only was the sphere humming, but it was also glowing with a soft, pulsating white light. Each time the light spread across the metallic surface, it seemed the interior was visible, a network of electronic pathways, circuitry—some sort of computerized system housed within the plain globe. As fascinating and surprising as it was, it didn't seem to belong here, in the junkyard. And considering his technological nature, Donnie wasn't about to leave it behind.
Stretching to reach over a twisted bicycle frame, Donatello placed both hands around the sphere, the tails of his plum-colored mask falling down over his shoulders as he moved. He made sure he had a firm grip on the smooth, slippery surface, and lifted the device out of its place in the pile of trash. It was surprisingly light, and warm to the touch. Don surmised that the heat came from whatever was producing the light that continued to pulse over the object.
"Well." He sighed, speaking quietly and interestedly to the sphere, holding it up in his hands to look over it at eye level. "You're no health monitor, but I guess you'll have to do."
In response, the sphere rattled violently, suddenly. In Don's haste to keep from dropping it, he was unable to avoid the thin, sharp needles that shot out from the sphere's surface, slicing through his hands, rippling out from the device like liquid mercury, and pinning him in place as they froze.
The turtle yelled out with a startled gasp of pain, and staggered backward, his eyes wide as he tried to free his hands from the metallic trap. The surface of the sphere glowed, and pulsed, slower, and dimmer, and Donnie found his gaze was fixed there, watching the rippling light, following it deeper into the circuitry… He fell to his knees in the sand, transfixed, his breathing becoming deeper, and slower, following the light… and for a few seconds, he was only remotely aware of the warmth of the setting sun, the dust settling around his legs, and the barking dogs, somewhere on the outside.
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"Don'tcha think we should check on Donnie?" Raph asked in an annoyed tone, flipping a grease-stained towel over his shoulder. "Ain't he usually back here fixin' stuff by now?" Casey had gone home, and he was left with the company of his brothers for the remainder of the night. Only, two of them seemed to be missing. He knew Leo was training… he wasn't about to interrupt that. Well… maybe later, just to piss him off. Last he heard of Don, he was off looting the junk yard. That was really only fun for Don.
Mikey looked up to Raph from his seat on the floor in front of the television. "Maybe he's mad at you for breaking that monitor thing." He leaned back on his arms, and a marmalade striped cat climbed into his lap, purring.
Raph looked unimpressed, narrowing his eyes at Mikey. "Yeah, maybe he's mad at you for buggin' 'im alla da time. Ever think of that?"
Mikey felt a little offended, and his expression fell into an unhappy frown. "I don't bug Donnie!" He turned to the cat. "Do I, Klunk? I keep you out of his lab, and everything." He scratched Klunk's ears, and the kitty blinked happily, and watched the stringy ends of the towel hanging from Raph's shoulder.
"Yeah, yeah…" Raph grumbled, and kept walking, as Mike continued to converse with his pet.
"…and I bring him coffee, and tell him jokes, and does he fix the XBox controller Leo sliced in half? Nooooooooo!"
Raph stopped, rolled his eyes dramatically, and heaved a sigh. "Mikey, would'ya do me a favor and shut your—"
"HELICOPTERS!" The door burst open.
"Shut your helicopters?" Klunk mewed to conclude Mike's confusion.
"Two of them!" Leo charged into the lair.
"Eh?" Raph propped his hands on his belt.
"What?" Mikey climbed to his feet, dusting himself off and looking between his brothers with concern.
Leo stepped up to them both, taking in a breath to explain. "I just saw two unmarked helicopters take off from the middle of town. They're scanning the streets with searchlights, and they're headed north. We need to check the news stations." On cue, Mike turned around and picked up the TV remote, changing the channel from soaps, to news. Leo glanced between the two of them, and then scanned the lair. "Where's Don?"