Part I ~ Fleeting Time
Chapter 1: My Faithful Servant
Clank has a field day when he learns of the new development, quipping that it'd be quieter around here for a while. As he said that, he'd handed me a cup of tea to help soothe my throat. He just had that way of being saccharinely devious. You know, the way where you want to thump him on the head and glomp him affectionaly at the same time.
Not that…it's weird or anything.
Talwyn ended up with some issues too. I had clawed up her legs, and her neck is covered in so many bite marks she'd have to be wearing turtlenecks for the next several weeks to hide them. She had told me it was hardly a concern, and that she'd just keep coming back for more vitamin D to grow stronger.
That's my girl.
In the several days after she leaves, I've made more of an attempt to not be as lazy as I had been. After coming in from a lengthy walk and chugging down a gallon of cold water, I lay myself upside down on the couch to play a holo-game of choice. Noot Noot Scoot is a kid's racing game, but who cares about the intended audience? You can drive a solar powered hover-car and roast opponents with a flamethrower, all the while paying your bills. Fun and educational!
After some time I become aware of a noise other than Clank making dinner. Our work pager is buzzing, rattling against the tea cup on the table. We were still on break in between seasons, and given the several hundred customers we had between Veldin, Kerwan and Endako, someone was bound to forget the schedule every now and again.
I pick the pager up. "Sorry, but we're currently not taking any commissions right now." An explosion comes from the Holo-vid and I quickly pause the game. I was totally using this time for mature, adult things.
The pager snaps up from my hand, hovering backwards in the air. "Hah…?" I wonder, staring.
A slender form melts into view behind the floating device. "Good morning, machismo."
"Eyesac?!" I jolt, slipping off the couch and crashing with my shoulders flush to the ground.
"Yes, hi, hello. Your abode is quite charming in a modest sense, yes, very nice and cozy. If I pay you in shekels can I stay and have premium benefits?"
When I get up I find him in an odd position, almost prostrate, with his arm tentacles laid out behind him. He's curling his neck forward, resting the top of his head on the ground. "How did…where did…you're supposed to be…in rehabilitation!" I say incredulously, standing. "How are you suddenly here? How do you know where we live?"
I almost ask how he had evaded my detection until now, then realize that the fumes coming from the kitchen and the noise from the holo-vid had hidden his presence well.
"Well, I hitchhiked," Eyesac lifts his serpent like head, his eye gleaming pridefully. "It was pretty easy, machismo. As long as you persuade certain folks the right way, they give you just what you need. Even if what you need is two steps away from the dirt path of general morality!"
I'd forgotten that conversing with Eyesac was as mentally exhausting as riding a unicycle while juggling triple decked ice cream sundaes under a blazing sun, without letting aforementioned sundaes melt. However, I'm now moreso distracted by the weird position he's in. "Eyesac, what exactly are you doing lying like that?"
"This is a exemplified posture of servitude," he answers. "You may call me in or out of it however you wish, or just give me an order to follow."
"You've never done this before," I say, taken off guard. "Why now?"
The ends of Eyesac's mouth twist upwards into a smile. There's something about his manner I can't really get a grip on. It was nothing like how I had last seen him. It seemed he was more open, trusting, and…I think I see reverence glimmering in his eye. It's like seeing the sun rising on a new day.
"This is a normal way for us Pekengeri to show respect to those above us," Eyesac explains.
"But I thought…" I start, scratching my head. "Hey, didn't you hate working for Psyclops because of…uh…"
"Because he lorded over me with his impressive size and illegitimate goals?" Eyesac finishes, coiling his body neatly into a pile. "Yes, I despise him for that still. Never once before had I abided by the social standards my race has long established. But I discovered something."
He falls silent. I find he's suddenly become unreadable, like staring at a stone wall. I wait for a moment. "Uh, and what would that—" Eyesac moves. His body forms a loose coil around mine, and I find myself with one inch between our faces. His eye, usually bright, has dimmed softly. I pull my head back, one brow high as a kite. "…be?"
"I…like you," Eyesac hisses. He swiftly moves from around me, moving almost dizzily as he snakes about, looping around all the legs of our coffee before settling down and resting his front tentacles on the surface.
"Yeah, I gathered that from before," I say.
"But did you?" Eyesac hisses, stretching his neck out. "I have never come to respect someone as much as you before. And while I was in that sorry excuse for a reform center, where they could not help me, I helped myself. I decided to fully embrace the role I was taught."
His voice had dropped to a tangible, almost hostile hiss. His teeth are bared in a smile. "Does that make sense, machismo? Or do you prefer Ratchet? Optner seems fond of calling you Stripes. What shall Eyesac call you?"
"Anything you want, Eyesac," I say, lifting and lowering a shoulder. "I don't mind."
He leans his head forward eagerly, seeming pleased. "As you wish. How about…Master?"
"Whoa, heh, laying it kinda heavy there, Eyesac," I say, mind wandering to notions not as innocent as his. "That's...well...you see, certain people might like having a certain role..."
"Is no role, like an actor," Eyesac says, tilting his head. "No role. It is a position. It is how I see you."
"It's just, such a…particular word. I see us as friends. Master, in the way you're using it, implies..."
"Precisely," says Eyesac, smiling a little. "Eyesac wants to be your servant."
"Ahhhh," I sigh, lowering my arms. "I repeat, we're friends, Eyesac. That whole master-and-servent thing that Pekengeri follow…it's just not something I'm used to. I mean, just look at me and Clank. We're best friends, but we don't necessarily assign, uh…power to the other. Sometimes he's better leading some situations and I follow, or vice versa. You see? It's just some unspoken agreement."
For some reason, Eyesac's expression has turned a bit smarmy. "Friendship, machismo," he says, "is hardly different from servitude. Do you realize why? While it is true that you and Clank do not bow to each other or assign specific ranks, you both would sacrifice anything in the universe for the other...yes?"
"That's true," I agree.
"That is the key, right there. Sacrifice. That word has much more weight than it immediately appears. Let me give you an example; for whatever reason, if it meant Clank's safety…would you, say, burn down a village?"
"Y-Yes," I stutter, shocked.
"We're ignoring context, don't worry. Would you steal the most valuable item in the universe if, for any reason, Clank needed it for his survival?
"Yes," I answer, more steadily. His smile widens.
"Would you, say…assassinate someone famous? Murder parents in front of their children? Completely raze and destroy civilizations? Commit as many murders as you needed to, if it all meant Clank's survival?"
The hero in me was aching, twisting at the thought of doing those horrible things, crimes I had never before imagined myself doing. It feels like there's a rock lodged in my stomach. At the same time, those things seem insignificant. Like they didn't matter.
Because I would do them, if I really, really have to
"I would…I would," I admit, with finality. Everything about me sags. I can only hope I was never pushed to do those things. I suppose that was the tragic thing about it.
"I would do them for you, too," says Eyesac.
I look back at Eyesac, who seems morose, guilty, even. He shakes his head. "I know it is paining you to imagine those things, but I merely want to prove a point. To do anything, even lay down your life, for one single person…that is the most dangerous power of them all. It is, undoubtedly, ultimate servitude."
He sighs, leaning back. "It hides, Ratchet. It hides deep underneath your inseparable friendship. It is the last thing you would want, yes? Sacrifice leads to pain. It always leads to pain. But…if it is for someone who matters, pain is bearable. And…I want to share your pain. If you so wish."
"…Eyesac," I murmur. I shake my head. He goes still. I imagine he's holding his breath. "I no longer like the idea of you becoming my servant." I finish.
He deflates, almost melting to the ground. "I…I see…if that is what you wis…" he stops when I raise my hand. A smile crosses my face. "I would…love the idea of you becoming my servant. Eyesac," I say. His jaw clunks to the coffee table, body starting to writhe. I can see the explosion coming, grinning when he pops up, tentacles askew in the air. "Oh alegria, alegria!"
He lands, curling his long body in a backflip, then lowers himself in another bow. "Honored! Excited, really! What is the first thing you demand of me, do you have one, ey, ey? Do you have an order for Eyesac?!"
I chuckle a bit, then glance down at him carefully. I did, actually. "Well, yes. This might sound weird."
He's so excited he's trembling, making his voice quake. "Nothing is too strange of an order! Who shall I murder for you?"
"...no one yet," I say. "I just want you to cover up the back of your neck the beck you can when you bow." I can't really tell where his neck stops and body starts, so that was a tall order. Eyesac seems pleased, tightly wrapping both of his arm tentacles around the area that apparently corresponded to his neck. "Yes, yes, of course! As you wish."
"However, I do have another question," I say, kneeling.
I look at him steadily and he wilts a little, like he knows what's coming next.
"Hand that to me, will you?" I say, referring to our work pager still in his grasp, and he does. "The next thing I want to get to the bottom of is why you left that rehabilitation center early."
He jerks, almost like he wants to look anywhere but my gaze. His eyes squints, focusing somewhere on my chin, and his voice wavers. "Erm…I…did not like it there, at all."
"What happened there? It didn't sound like you liked the place the Polaris Defense Force sent you."
He shakes his head. "I did not…and they had to employ extreme measures for me. I was a high risk patient."
I begin to sense the fear and apprehension coming from him. Those were two things I never expected to flow so freely from him, of all people. "…what did those extreme measures entail? What did they do to you in there, Eyesac?"
He bows his head, covering it slightly with his tentacles so his eye was barely visible. "I…do not wish to make you angry."
It only makes me wonder angry in what sense, and that's enough to agitate me further. I know one thing. Until I found out more about whatever this place was, Eyesac wasn't going back. Not with how I can see it makes him feel. Now I was concerned with Optner, the other little Pekengeri that'd been sent there. Unlike Eyesac, he's far too small. Too frail—if something bad had happened to him, there was going to be absolute hell to pay.
I curse myself. I should have taken the initiative to figure out where General Regina and Captain Table sent them all those weeks ago myself. They had chosen the rehabilitation center, but the Polaris Defense Force head, Garon McNeil had to have given them the approval. Now that I realize, I should have taken control of the situation—no, Clank and I both should have.
Damn it—we'd trusted them yet again. We got too relaxed.
And now Eyesac, someone who I'd never seen fearful, was literally quivering in front of me because of it.
I find my fist clenching at my side, bristling. "I'm sorry, Eyesac. I should've…"
A sigh leaves my mouth. The slight sound of metal clanking draws nearer. I don't even look up to acknowledge Clank at first. When I do, he's walking in, busy drying his hands off in a dish towel. "Dinner is almost ready. I hope are finished playing that game, Ratchet. It is not good for you to be shouting in anger after your voice has just heal—"
He tucks the towel under his arm then does a double take, blinking several times at Eyesac.
"Why, hello there, little master," Eyesac says, slithering forward. "I was wondering when I would hear the relaxing timbre of your deep, intelligent, suave, voice."
By the time he finishes, he's pressing his head to Clank's, wrapping his tentacles around him. "…hello…to you too, Eyesac?" Clank responds, tilting his head.
"Ah, and before I forget," Eyesac jabs his tail to the door, "there is a package outside for you. It's from…and I'm not joking, Center of the Universe, Give or Take Fifty Feet Avenue."
"Yes, I was expecting that to arrive soon. What I was not expecting, with a week left of your training at the rehabilitation center," Clank says, turning his head to give me a questioning glance, "was for you to show up two galaxies over."
"…look, Clank. Let's keep him here. I know you're gonna be all like 'he should'a stayed and obeyed the rules' but I think it won't hurt," I say.
"To us, perhaps. I believe that. But by law…that is what we need to be concerned with," Clank says. "We need Eyesac, I am positive, for helping us stop Psyclops and the doctor. We need to be concerned with how he must be trusted by the defense forces of both Solana and Polaris. We may already see his reform, but they may not, especially with him evading his responsibilities. "
"We'll find a way to convince them," I say firmly. "Unless you want to risk him going back and being scarred even more."
Clank's eyes widen slightly, and his head swivels back to Eyesac. "What happened?" he asks.
The Pekengeri lets go, slithering back and regaining the same bashful posture as before. "Polaris officials are soon due to pick up Optner from the rehab center," Eyesac says. "If you two went, you could be there to ask what you desire."
Clank gets a distant, bothered look, staring at the ground for a moment. He speaks, slowly. "...I believe I see. And I am very sorry, for whatever you endured there. This is…not something I foresaw, nor wanted for you, Eyesac."
"No, no, it was my idea in the first place, remember?" Eyesac responds. "If anything, I am the one who bowed out of our agreement. But I just cannot go back there, I cannot!"
"And...when they discover you have left and make an alarm, which will no doubt happen…we will be in trouble," Clank finishes, rubbing his chin.
"Eh, we've been in legal trouble before. It's not anything we can't handle," I drawl. "McNeil may have initiated them, and he may be our superior, but I won't be afraid to tell it to his face we're the reason the Polaris Defense Force is still relevant. And I will," I add, when I see Clank wince. "I will, Clank. He owes us."
"Very well," Clank says. "Eyesac, make yourself at home."
"Yeah, just don't mess with anything that looks like it could vaporize a city block with one touch," I say, since I sometimes was a bit irresponsible with what I leave lying around the house.
The Pekengeri perks up. "Yay! Excellente! I do not even know what to do with myself now!"
He cackles wildly, then circles Clank several times before propelling himself towards me, slipping between my legs and then out of the window. I hear his delighted hissing grow quieter. I crease back the corners of my mouth, facing Clank with a grimace.
"So…you didn't foresee this, did you?" I begin. "That's very particular. It does bring something to mind, though—" I cut a hand down to him. "You know I've sensed that something big's been on your mind lately, right?"
He stares up at me impassively.
"No, don't you go and give me that look," I say, raising my hands to my hips and stalking closer to him. "Just how long did you think I wasn't going to bring that subject up? You only made it more obvious just now. You said you didn't foresee something. You don't use time-related vernacular unless…well, I don't know! You know…something, don't you? You've got the soul and potential of reality traversing time beings that have also given you visions of the coming future."
Clank lets out a dry chuckle, and his shoulders droop. "Oh, alright. I have been receiving visions. They all come in me in my dreams. And I cannot," he adds, squinting one eye, "say in particular what they are. They are snapshots of unfamiliar places, words of people I seem have yet to meet, and…there is a presence, it seems, lurking deeper in the recesses of my subconscious. My brethren are always within them, guiding me. But they are silent, in the middle of this chaos I have been feeling. This has never happened before."
"Yeah...aren't your brothers and sisters usually the ones to explain things like that?"
"That is what concerns me," Clank pauses. "And there is one single dream I have had repeatedly, in which they have never appeared at all. I feel peculiar every time I have it. I cannot see or touch, but it feels as if I am flying in a void. But I can hear," he says, nodding, "and I always hear your voice, Ratchet…then I feel at ease."
"Clank…quick question," I say slowly. "You would…risk anything in the universe for me, right?"
He looks up at me, face falling short. He doesn't even have to say anything. It takes all I have to not scoop him up right there and start sobbing over him.
Anyway.
"Ahem...well…this is somewhat accurately timed, in a way," I say. "Sasha's calling us in pretty soon for a debrief, isn't she?"
"In the coming week, yes. I do believe they are almost done with their surveillance of planet Sentinus."
"Oh then, what does several days matter? If anyone has a problem with Eyesac leaving early, they can count the stripes on my ass then kiss it," I say. "I'm just mostly upset we weren't more involved, I mean…did you see how he acted, Clank? They DID something to him in there. Something bad. Some correction facility, right? Now think back these past few weeks and what's going on with me, right? I'd never step foot in a mental organization after seeing one of their patients cower in fear."
"Irrelevant, because you will never have to be admitted to such a place," Clank says seriously. "I see your point, but at the same time we cannot blame ourselves. I for one am concerned about Optner."
"Oh don't worry about him," Eyesac says suddenly, dropping his head down as he hangs from the ceiling fan. "He's doing fine, actually. I checked on him to see if he wanted to leave with me, but he said no because…well, he cares a bit more about getting into legal trouble than I."
"Nothing seemed wrong?" I ask.
"Not that I could tell," says Eyesac, swing back and forth. "Maybe he was a bit grouchier than normal, but he's always like that. Hey, is that chocolate cake on the counter?!"
"Yes, I just baked it this morning. Remember to use a knife to cut it," says Clank.
As Eyesac darts off, our pager starts buzzing again in my hand. "Eyesac, don't you go crazy on that cake, you hear? I have a date with at least half of that tonight. And okay, lane change," I hold up the pager, "Who is this that keeps trying to call us on our off day? Take this, Clank. I'm not in the mood to talk to anyone else right now."
"Of course," Clank says nicely. "Would you retrieve that package outside the door for me, please?"
I find the chest sitting outside the garage door, surprised by its regality. The sunlight makes its brilliant gold surface shine like a daytime star, and there's a quartet of four quietly glimmering cyan gems forming a ridge along the top. It's weirdly enchanting to just look at.
There's a gift tag hanging out from the side. The sender's address is just as outrageous as previously mentioned, and when I turn it over I see a neatly written note.
Here's what you asked for sir. Remember, (not that I don't trust you) be considerate of where you and how you use it all! I took all the time in the universe to make sure everything works right. Lol get it? ;)
-Your Most Loyal and Humorous Servant, Sigmund.
I chuckle a bit under my breath. "What have you been up to, tincan?" To my shock, it doesn't budge a single inch. I readjust my hands and try again and get the same results. Uh, huuhhh? Okay, how about pushing it in? I brace myself on the ground and push with everything I have, heaving and muscles straining. I soon find my feet slipping out from under me, and before I can recover I spectacularly face plant to the ground.
What the hell did Clank have delivered to our doorstep, a hundred Wigwump corpses compressed into this small box? There's a single hinge at the back but I can't see any way of opening it besides prying it open with power tools.
I should've realized that a glowing chest wouldn't act normal. This had to be some weird Zoni magic.
"Ratchet, thank you for bringing that in."
The next time I lift my head I'm inside on the living room floor with the chest still in my grasp. I stare around for a moment, speechless. Then I jerk my head to Clank nearby, who's clearly trying to keep a straight face. "What just—what did you do?"
"You were touching the chest, which is apparently capable of warping across space and time," he says casually, like that would dispel all my concerns with the thing. I get up and dust myself off, eyeing him. "Riiight, I should've realized…"
"An…anyway," he continues, "Ahem…Mr. Gn...Gnorcin has…has called—!" He suddenly collapses into a fit of giggles, falling over to his back.
"Oh you SO knew what you were doing when you asked me to bring that in!" I say indignantly, pointing a finger at him. "I don't know what type of mail carrying service you used to deliver that thing, but what the heck is in there in the first place?"
He smiles sweetly. "You will find out fairly soon, Ratchet. I do not want to spoil the surprises I have for my dearest friend."
"You'd better be glad you're so endearing." I mirror his smile, though it's sinister in comparison. "In fact, you know what happens when I'm feeling a certain type of way towards you, Clank." He jumps up so fast you'd think someone shot a firecracker up his ass. "You know not to struggle. I'll only make it harder for you," I say, taking a step towards him.
"Absolutely not! There is no time for that, Ratchet."
"Nonsense, who says we can't take a time out?"
"We have to…erm, respond to Mr. Gnorcin's request!"
Mr. Gnorcin is our only neighbor and lives several miles away. He's also one of our more prominent clients and always has something for us to repair or refurbish. He used to be a mechanic when he was younger and his entire place is surrounded with ships, parts and numerous other things he'd held onto his whole life. He's also notable for raising a fuss at the slightest provocation and blowing things out of proportion, but he really is an alright old guy when you get past his tendencies to constantly get drunk and curse everything under Solana's suns, in no particular order.
"He wants us over there, ah, you sure? You're not fishing for something to distract me right now?" I ask Clank, stalking towards him. "Well, tell me what he wants and depending on what it is, you might get off the hook for now."
He nearly trips over himself as he walks backwards. "He-he says he is having trouble with invaders!"
"Of course he is, Clank. Ninety nine percent of the time he's made calls like that, he's drunk and angry that Hornies are ransacking his trash. Isn't that right? Might just be a false alarm?"
"I did notice something different. He specifically referred to the invaders as assassins this time."
"He thought we were assassins the last several times we went over," I shake my head. "Guy gets more senile by the year."
"He is one hundred and twelve."
"Good point," I say, backing him into the corner between the couch and the lamp. "Sadly, it's not going to get you out of trouble."
"He consistently calls the first Monday of every month about this issue…But!" he points to the calendar above his head. "He is one day early, Ratchet. That is something that has never happened before. Something must be wrong!"
This makes me stop. "Huh. You just might be onto something, Clank."
If there was anything we knew about him, it was that he was a creature of habit. And he always wanted us to work on his decrepit ships in the dead of night, only on every other Saturday, only on even numbered months. Him calling a day early was something most people would shrug at, but it's really weird for him.
I gaze at the calendar for a moment longer, then grin down at Clank. "You got lucky this time, tin can. C'mon…let's see what's going on with the old grouch now."
Even though we'd both covered it up under light joking, something was telling me that this wasn't him calling over trivial reasons again. I've known the guy for my whole life, and he gets pissy at the drop of a hat if any of his routines are broken, no matter how weird they are.
I run to the garage and throw the door open. Clank gets grabbed and tossed him into the Starqwake's recently added sidecar. "Alright, let me take you for your first ride, pal," I say, hopping onto the seat.
"Your eagerness is equally disturbing as it is exciting," says Clank, feeling on the interior of his seat. "Velvet? I approve!"
It used to be a problem ship not too long ago, but it wasn't too much that some TLC couldn't handle. That and cursing. A lot of cursing. Clank looks over the side as the ship lifts a yard off the ground, the slightly humming of the engine no longer joined by ugly grinding or clattering from rusted parts. My child has grown up; I'm about to get sentimental, here.
"Are you tearing up?" asks Clank. "And did you replace the old engine with another? This one sounds much healthier."
"If you can think of it, then yeah, I fixed it."
"Astounding, but expected. I knew that along with your superior skills of craft, the constant meltdowns you experienced would lead to the completion of this work of art."
"See," I say, looking over my shoulder as we go in reverse, "now I'm all good until you say or do something that makes me want to act up."
"Hee hee hee! I do not know what you are talking about, Ratchet." He leans back, folding his arms behind his head. "This is where I will start to take general notes. I simply could not let us go to the HoverDerby without being aware of our vehicle's positive and negative aspects. To do so would be abandoning possible potential, as well missing highly exploitable factors that would endanger our chances of placing in higher tiers."
"You secure in your car seat yet?"
"Oh, will you just go!"
I laugh malevolently, and he wilts when realizes his mistake. Never give me an excuse to just go, because my go might be a bit different from yours.
I swerve in a sharp one eighty, pounding the gas like an anvil. To my delight, there's no wind resistance since it's traveling in the same direction we're going.
"Oh, AND we got a tailwind?!" I shout. "Let's go, baby!"
Clank just holds on as tight as he can, because out here in the desert there's hardly any obstacles that'd stop us. I disturb sand dunes by coasting off their peaks, blasting pounds of grain in all directions. The occasional, dried up bushels of plant life I barrel right through, getting burs and other small nuances in my fur before they're blwon away by the wind.
We come into view of a knot of Horny Toads as they're wandering about, and they're startled into no tomorrow when we come through. Their clamoring is hilarious enough, but seeing them trying to scramble out of the way to avoid being roadkill causes me to wheeze until my sides ache. Sadly, they all make it, which means I have no an excuse to stop and pick one up to eat later on.
"Good!" Clank says smartly, looking adamant even which clenching into his seat. He always did have an idea of what I was thinking.
We soon meet where the terrain of Kyzil Plateau shifted a bit drastically; sandy hills that seem to move with the wind merge seamlessly with the colossal peaks and valleys of a sprawling, stone city. The abandoned district, where we used to live, is still a bare, unforgiving environment filled with cities of decrepit, eerie buildings.
I slow to avoid crashing, no longer having the freedom of the open desert. This area's as frozen in time as always, with our old garage still standing stubbornly. I don't think I've ever seen anyone make an attempt to live in this area. That said, I still wandered over here on occasion to walk or reminiscent in peace, without the worry of being disturbed. There's no doubt it's why our only neighbor decided to make his living quarters here.
Gnorcin's flat is settled near a solitary group of mountains, looking as pale as the desert beyond in the waning sunlight. While he generally kept to himself and was quiet, there's an unnatural stillness surrounding his home I pick up even from a distance. My spine tingles.
"It's Sunday, right?"
"Yes. He should be out on his porch by now."
Every Sunday evening he sits on his porch to tune into his favorite radio talk show. There's no sign of the old lawn chair he sits in, nor the pail of ice that held his favorite drinks. I park the Starqwake outside the privacy fence, only giving Clank a glance for him to get the message. I slip off to the ground, feeling him attach himself, and take a pondering look around. I move in careful consideration, hyper focusing my senses as I enter the yard.
A cluster of varyingly sized rock spires sit at the rear of his property, the tallest of them capable of keeping his home in shadow for a good portion of the day. I hide myself behind the junk and parts littered in his yard, feeling exposed under their towering gazes. In the late twilight they cast impressive shadows on the ground that mess with my eyes a bit; my imagination runs wild and I dart my head about, convinced that I see shapes lurking around in dark, unseen hideaways.
I lower my head quickly, hovering several inches from the ground. I had the intent to pick up any wayward scents that didn't belong here. My furious sniffing rewards me with an itchy nose, and I sneeze several times in a row.
Clank repeatedly taps my side. I jerk my head around, narrowing my eyes.
Towards a far corner of the house I catch a slight but unusual movement, like something, or someone, had just ducked out of sight. I take off like a rocket towards the opposite corner instead. Thrill rushes through me as if it were my own blood and I swiftly close the distance in seconds. My ears pick up the sound of feet on the ground, and they're pattering closer. A dark figure appears and I leap upon it, colliding heavily with it in a tackle. By the force of their grunt, I'm sure I've forced all the air out their lungs. If not then, definitely when we fall and I pin them to the ground.
They're wearing dark clothes and a cloth that covers up part of their face, but I immediately see the conical head and stout build. Blarg.
Out of habit, I reach down to my waistband for a weapon that isn't there. I didn't even bring one of my wrenches. That was irresponsible of me. I did have other reliable means of inflicting damage, so it's not that much of a setback.
"Sorry for being so rough, it's just that when I see something run, I feel the need to chase it," I say. "Now, do you mind telling me what you're doing behind our client's house?"
"I-I was just—"
"He seems to think you're enough of a disturbance to call us over. I wonder why that is," I say. I notice he's got a generic blaster of some sort in his hand, almost shaking it loose from how hard he was trembling. "You weren't planning on doing anything you shouldn't have with that, were you?"
"I wasn't trying to hurt anyone, I swear. This is a misunderstanding!"
My next words come out frigid. "I wouldn't lie if I were you."
He keeps his piss-scared mask up for another second before it evolves seamlessly into an insufferable smirks I've ever seen. He casually lets go of his weapon then speaks, voice as sarcastically demeaning as his expression. "There. I put it down. You happy?"
"It depends on if you used it, and heaven forbid if your answer is anything but no."
He raises his hands slowly, indifference crossing his features. "We just started negotiating, and you're already running hotter than the surface of the planet. Your client is still in his house drinking himself into a stupor and cursing everything under Solana's suns. Normal for him, right? I only bothered the old man enough to push him to call you over, my friend. I do have to respect your reaction time. Only reason I can think of is because he's a good paying customer you wouldn't want to risk losing."
I stand up, pulling him up to his feet. "Are there any more of you?" He says nothing, and I add, "Since there are, I'll make you a deal. You tell me where they're hiding, and you'll continue to live as long as it takes me to pick them off."
His smirk twitches slightly, giving me a glimpse of genuine fear showing through the cracks of his shield. "You're not even going to give me the benefit of the doubt, are you?"
"No, I'm not," I answer. "My days of giving people extra chances are dwindling. And since my instincts are telling me that you're nothing but trouble, there's no point in trying to humor you."
He grunts, mouth turning up into a frown. "Well, that's harsh. Some hero you are."
I roughly clench my hands and twist, slamming him into the side of the wall. He wheezes. I take the moment to size him up. The cloak he's wearing doesn't seem like it'd get in the way, and I could probably bite straight through without any resistance.
"Hey hey hey, eyes up here, alright? I'll talk," he says sharply, getting enough of an implication. The contrast between the alarm in his tone and the weak squirming he's doing is agitating, like he's teetering between knowing I really was going to kill him and the hope I wouldn't. "What if I told you it's only my partner and I here, and that he's not going to be as easy to find as I was?" he says, expression twisting into a mix of a pained grimace and a smile.
"Then I guess you're just out of luck, huh?"
"Ask yourself that."
He leans away from me, slowly, and it seems deliberate. I barely have enough time to focus back on my surroundings when I catch a slight glint of light, nestled in the towering cliffs.
My body reacts on record time. When my mind catches up I find myself tilting back, feeling something rocketing between us with a thunderous crack that tears the air in two. Clank gives a muffled grunt of surprise when I hit the ground. As quick as I can move I spring up, lunging for cover behind the side of the house. I see what seems to be a bullet lodged in the ground, diamond-shaped and giving off a light sheen. I let out a breath. That looks like that would have hurt as shit if that'd made contact.
"Was that a sniper?" Clank questions, turning to look over my shoulder.
"Looks like it," I say lowly, hearing a sigh come from around the corner. I tense when my previous captive walks into view. "You're not making this easy for us, you know," he says, looking from the bullet to me.
I lower my center of gravity, hearing my already rapid, furious breathing quicken further. I grasp the ground tighter and space my back legs out evenly, tensed to leap. "Come closer. I dare you."
"I'm not going to stick my hand in that bonfire," he answers, wisely taking several steps back. "This wouldn't be such a problem for you if you'd brought some heat, but you didn't."
The smugness of the last sentence literally makes me feel like I've got a furnace inside me. Rage! This time I catch the impulses, forcibly steeling my thoughts before they turned too violent and and I acted without thinking. After a measured moment I inch closer, picking my way across the ground.
"You know what happens if you try to come out," the blarg warns, moving backwards for every inch I move forward.
I glance at the bullet in the ground, then stand upright, crossing my arms and leaning on the wall. "…I don't know," I answer calmly. "I've taken all types of hits. You'd better hope he kills me with one, because I am going to get my hands on you."
"Now why would you risk—"
"For pete's sake," I drawl, rolling my eyes. "Why are YOU here? You come here looking for trouble and not only that, you need some punk to cover your wise ass from up high. You'd better hurry and say something, or I'm coming for you now."
He grows exceedingly nervous, but it's mostly in his posture and body language. I even see how quick his breathing has gotten. It's still that same affably confident look he wears that erases any sort of empathy to be had for him.
"You know how it is with you folks, it's never an isolated event of violence. Unfortunately…or maybe, fortunately," he mutters, "I can't exactly…tell you. You'd shoot the messenger even if I told our reasons."
"So, you're a sacrificial minion," I say pleasantly, lining my words in velvet. "I understand. You're stuck in a compromised position, just there to help spring a trap so your boys can finish. You're bait. Literally."
The last word freezes him in place. There we go.
Even with how far he's backed away I cross over half the distance with a powerful leap, intent on grabbing him and making a quick kill before that sniper got another chance. I've had practice these past weeks and knew all I needed was a swift, hard bite right around the jugular.
Something ropey catches me around the waist and arm, stopping me in the air. I curse out of blind rage and frustration, trying to break free. The blarg seems doubly stunned from the sudden start and bizarre stop of my attack.
"Forgive me…but hold on, one moment…" Eyesac says, voice sounding one with the murmur of the wind. I'd forgotten all about him. He must've hitched another shameless ride without us realizing it. Without becoming visible, he lets go of me and I drop down. Being out in the open makes me glance up to where I'd seen that gleam in the mountains, but something told me Eyesac knew what he was doing. I glare back at my target. "You know if you were smart you'd be running by now."
"How...what's-what's going on?! Look! You don't know how much worse you're making this for yourself!" he claims, glancing up at the mountains.
"Yeah you're right, genius," I say, spreading my arms in exasperation. "Especially since you haven't told me a single thing!"
"Well you're just an animal, so, it doesn't matter what I have to say because you won't understand."
I stop dead in my tracks, looking at him in sheer disbelief. "…seriously?" I deadpan. Clank giggles to himself.
"Really. You're making a huge mistake here—" He jerks weirdly with a cry, grabbing at his neck with a choking noise. He gets slammed forward into the side of the house, head thudding painfully against brick. Eyesac reappears, mouth turned down in displeasure. He curls his head over and around to meet eyes with the criminal, "I believe it is you who has made the mistake."
"If I knew any better, I'd say you took care of his buddy," I say.
"Yes...I had seen his light while you were occupied earlier, and forgive me for saying I reached him mere seconds after he fired the first time," Eyesac says broodingly. "I took so long to get back down here because I was making sure there was no one else hiding up there with him. And I am not the best climber, either…"
He draws out a slender gun, holding it towards the ground and peering through the scope. "This is what is called a sniper? I am not familiar with firearms or other blowy-uppity things. It is pretty fancy, look at what it can do! Hey, GPS, tell me where I am!"
"Request acknowledged. You are currently standing within the several hundred mile radius of in the Middle of Nowhere, Veldin."
"Wow, several hundred miles? That really is in the middle of nowhere!" Eyesac cackles.
To my amusement the blarg is now kicking and flailing with more vigor, but he's finding out firsthand that Eyesac is a lot stronger than he looks. "You no good one-eyed slim freak, what the hell did you do with my partner?!"
He flinches when Eyesac pulls out a decapitated blarg head. So does Clank, who'd gotten down to watch.
"I carved out his eyes, then paralyzed him from the waist down before cutting his body into pieces," Eyesac says, looking at us both proudly.
I tilt my head. "Why'd you paralyze him first?"
"It is a preference of mine. It stops them from moving as much, which really helps if you take your dismembering as seriously as I do. Does this please you?"
Clank scratches his head slowly, trying not to make his horror too apparent. I on the other hand think it's sweet, in a morbid way. "Yes it does, actually. Thank you, Eyesac. Just hold him for me, will you?"
I zero in on the blarg, whose entire body is saturated in fear. He doesn't even seem to find it in his mind to start begging, or maybe he knows it won't work.
"I said until we got your partner taken care of, didn't I? You're way past your expiration date," I tell him, stopping in front of him.
"No! I didn't want to do this! You've got to believe me! Don't kill me, just let me go, I'll go far away and never do anything like this again!"
"You mean that?"
"Yes!"
I laugh and snatch up his collar. "You don't. Didn't I tell you there was no point in lying or even telling half truths? You might not want to have anything to do with us anymore, but that's not stopping you from doing anything like this ever again."
"Fine!" he snaps, rolling his eyes. "Okay? Yes, I am just here for bait. It doesn't matter if I make it out or not, whatever happens, they'll take it in stride like leaping across a puddle of shallow water! If I make it out, they'll just use me for whatever else they want! There, that's the truth and hell, none of us have to like it."
"They?" Clank asks a question I'd had. But somehow, I'd just known who he'd meant by that.
"You're working for those Pekengeri, are you?" I ask.
"Great, you want a treat? Well hell you know how much they love misdirection and playing with their enemies," he says nastily, shooting a glance over his shoulder.
Eyesac is positively beaming. "Why, thank you," he says. "I try my best."
"Oh whatever," the blarg says, rolling his eyes. "'Derrick, it'll be simple!' they said, 'Derrick, you'll have help,' they said! Just stall the Lombax, and the rest will fall into place! Ha ha ha ha!" he cries, towards the sky. His laughter turns into legitimate sobbing.
"What is 'the rest?'" Clank wonders.
"Unlike how you're so eager to kill me, we didn't come here to do that to you. It's a tranquilizer," Derrick says, lifting a hand towards the bolt in the ground. "We used a long-distance weapon because they were too damn afraid of confronting you face on. And Cuckson was the only one who had decent aim, so he had to be the one to make the hit on you. I didn't know the guy before I was roped into this, but now he can't pay me my seventeen bolts since you killed him. You see, he bet that he wouldn't die before he managed to shoot you. As you can see, he lost."
"What." I say flatly, not just at the sheer stupidity of what I'd just heard but of the fact they'd tried to use a tranquilizer. Yeah, every time I'd come into contact with the Pekengeri in the past they'd tried to kill us. I'm sure this wasn't too drastic of a change, since I knew one of them wanted to personally torture and kill me over a period of time. Guess I'll just wonder about this later.
"Why…" Clank begins, and the blarg cuts him off. "Whatever you're about to ask, I don't know. I don't know why they don't want to kill you anymore, I don't know where those tentacled freaks are, and I most definitely don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do now that we failed. I only know enough for context, alright? I was managing my boring desk job on Metropolis when they approached and haggled me into doing their dirty work for a chance at a career that isn't as mundane. Look at how stupid I was, thinking that being a spotter is much more exciting than filing papers and making calls all day! Well, I quit that job for this one, and I'm about to get murdered on the first day. It really sucks how some things work out. So just go ahead and kill me, I know you want to."
Huh, maybe I really should—guy really seemed to hate where he is in life. While he comes off as being uncaring, I can sense he does want another chance, and he's starting to shake a bit. I find myself beginning to feel sorry for him, then remember what he tried to do and harden my resolve. Client or not, Gnorcin was someone I've known for a long time and care about. This guy was going to regret putting him in the line of danger.
"Let him go, Ratchet."
My hand moves by itself on the command, and the blarg pulls back, clumsily stumbling away from us. Eyesac hisses, standing tense with his eye latched onto him, and I'm close to pouncing on him again. "Let him go," Clank repeats, firmer this time. I listen, though it doesn't stop me from getting furious. I kick up sand as I lunge towards the criminal to make him run. He stumbles over himself with a startled yell, almost tripping over his long robe as he runs away.
"You better consider yourself damn lucky!" I roar after him. "Don't you EVER come back here again!"
He vanishes into the crags, and before long his little crappy passenger ship is rising from behind cover, shooting off into the sky. I pace in a circle, agitated, staring after it until it vanishes completely from my sight.
"Darn it, Clank," I mutter, not really intending for him to hear, "why'd you have to go and do that?"
"I was testing to see how well I could override your instincts. It seems to work somewhat," he says calmly. "I just saw too much of Optner in him, Ratchet. I could not let him continue to be a victim when it is not completely his fault. I believe he understood your warning enough. If he is wise and disassociates with the real enemy, we should not have to worry about him."
"Yeah okay, but if they're sending people after us, I'm not sparing all of them," I say. "Think about how many of their minions are waiting for us wherever their base of operations is. You get me? I'm not going to hesitate to go in for the kill and let that be a mistake I regret later."
"I know, I understand," he tells me gently. "Just remember that mercy is a form of power, too."
"Well he asked me to snuff him, so my instincts said yes. You did tell me to accept them, right?"
"That is why I will just continue what I just did," Clank says. "If I see your instincts are clouding your better judgement, I will step in and diffuse the situation. You did respond quicker than I expected. That is amusing."
"Yes," Eyesac speaks up, "In fact, it seems he respects you so much, Clank, that he followed the order in favor of whatever his desires were."
I knew he was getting at his claim that friendships weren't too different from servitude. And, as we enter the house, it hits me.
I think Clank is also starting to act as my caretaker. But—was he aware of that, or not? Was that an epiphany he received, something he knew he had to eventually do?
I wouldn't mind at all, regardless.
"Careful not to touch anything, Eyesac. He'll notice." I say, as we pick through Gnorcin's living room cluttered with generations upon generations of knickknacks. If we moved anything a centimeter out of place he'd beat us all to death with a broken wine bottle.
"If I must say, it is so crowded in here it is as if he is asking for something to be tipped over," Eyesac grumbles, slithering near the walls where the space was a little more generous. Didn't that blarg say the old guy had been drinking? Clank and I look at each other, speaking in tandem. "The cellar."
We find and open the hatch that leads down and find a room stacked full of barrels. There's a row of space in the middle, leading to a door on the back wall. I begin to pick up sounds coming from behind it—Gnorcin's distinct, annoyed grumble that rolls slightly from the effects of intoxication.
"Better not startle him," I say quietly, then knock on the door carefully. "Mr. Gn—"
A bottle shatters against the door from the other side. "I told ya'll once, I'll tell ya'll till I die, you are NOT going to come up in my property demanding me for ransom! Ya'll better hope I didn't stash my gun in here!"
"Mr. Gnorcin, you are safe now," says Clank.
"What?! Who's that? Get away from my door, criminal scum!"
"It is Ratchet and Clank."
"I'm deaf!" Gnorcin shouts. "Speak up, or piss off!"
There's another crash, and a thud. Gnorcin swears. Clank tries to speak again but I just put a hand on his shoulder, shaking my head. "Don't bother, pal. With how wasted he sounds, he's past the point of listening. I'm getting tipsy by just standing here and breathing in fumes."
We jump back when the door barges open and Mr. Gnorcin staggers out, holding an old portable brick phone and a jagged bottle in hand. "I'll bludgeon you lot harder than—WHAT in the seven hells took you so long, boy!?"
He staggers back into the wall, pointing the bottle somewhere between my navel and the top of Clank's head. "I could'a been overrun by those damn interlopers if I hadn't done locked myself in here! Did you all at least get rid'a 'em?!"
"That is what took us so long, Mr. Gnorcin," Clank says articulately. "It seems they were trying to lure us into a trap using you as ransom."
"To hell with them," he snaps. "Now I done told y'all to stop attracting them blarg here, didn't I tell you the last time?!"
"I'm surprised you remember something from ten years ago," I say before I can stop myself. He doesn't seem to have heard the comment, which saves us from a pretty loud explosion of curses. I raise my voice and add, "Good thing is, they're taken care of now."
"They better be," he says, stumbling past us, using the barrels to hold himself up. "I hope you got 'em good."
"Well, Eyesac is outside burying a body and the other one barely escaped with his life."
"I don't know who the hell Eyesac is, but he'd better not dig nowhere near my Ferazz garden. Can you believe it, boy, one of them was talking nonsense through the door to me about…what was that fool saying? Justice," Gnorcin roars suddenly. In his drunken rage he almost topples over, catching himself on one of the barrels. I bite my bottom lip, but a snicker still escapes. Clank shakes his head at me in disapproval.
"That's what it was. Who gives a damn about justice?! What are you boys out there doing, reeling in these crazy folk spewing these things?"
"They love us, I guess," I say, shrugging. Now that we knew the old guy was safe, I could move onto another thing I'd been curious about. That weapon they'd tried to shoot me with had caught my attention, and at the very least I wanted to study and understand what level of weaponry that'd been used against us. I turn and go barreling up the ladder. "Now don't you go start acting a fool on my property too!" Gnorcin hollers up after my disappearing tail end.
"Sorry, can't hear ya!" I call over my shoulder, rushing outside. It's dark by now but I quickly find what I'm looking for, kneeling down next to the bullet stuck in the ground. "Eyesac, you hear me?"
I hardly take another breath before he's silently whipping around the corner, placing a shovel back along the wall where it'd rested. "I am finished with the burial. What is it you need of me?"
"I want a look at that sniper you picked up earlier. You still have it?"
"Yes, as you wish." He circles behind a cluster of Gnorcin's trash cans, emerging with said weapon, then tosses it to me. "Thanks," I mutter, holding it up. The moonlight makes it gleam silver. When I tilt it, light catches on the scope and refracts to the ground. This was going of generalization and maybe personal bias, but this didn't come off as being a weapon a blarg would make. They were about as good as making weapons as I was taking cold showers in the winter. This smells like Pekengeri business, alright. Not literally, even if I quickly check out of instinct.
I didn't really plan on doing anything with it specifically, but I should take it back with us just in case. The bullet, too, since it's so huge I'm actually worried the old man would trip over it and break something. I take and pull on it, but it's stuck tight. That's when the bullet vibrates, then emits several pulses of electricity that travel up my arm and through the rest of my body. Every inch of me is shocked to immovable rigidness and I tip over sideways, thudding to the ground like a fallen statue.
"Ratchet, must I babysit you?" Clank scolds. I can only move my eyes, and I almost roll them at his impeccable timing. He's effectively done one of his instant 'Ratchet has done something foolish so I must be a close-proximity witness' teleports. "What happened the last time you touched an unfamiliar object stuck in the ground?"
I stare up at him, stubborn in the fact that I can't help how curious I am sometimes. He clearly reads it as such and sighs, shaking his head. Eyesac sticks himself out from over the rooftop, his dark form and silver eye making him almost blend in with the star blotted sky. "Looking a bit tense there, machismo. Where's Talwyn when you need her?"
"You drunkard!" hollers Gnorcin from his porch. "All'a you! Get off my damn lawn!"
Now I roll my eyes.
"What is wrong?" asks Eyesac, interrupting my thoughts. "I saw you have the gun. Did you want to keep the head, too?"
"Er…no, Eyesac. That's alright." I respond. On our trip back home I've been thinking less than optimistic thoughts about coming tidings. After all, stuff like what'd just happened were never isolated events. Looks to me that the rats are starting to poke their heads out of their nests, and that I need to prepare to get in that catch-and-kill mood. More of a constant state than a mood, I guess I should admit. I've been relaxing for way too long now.
"Oh, and I apologize for taking this from the kitchen," Eyesac adds. I look over my shoulder, and he's holding an enormous knife layered with rust red at the bottom. "I took it just in case it was needed, heh heh, but I will thoroughly clean it off when we get back."
"That is my cutting knife imported from Joba," Clank tells him.
"You use this, Clankmeister?! Why, it's the size of your body!" Eyesac cries. "Surely you don't have it just for cooking…you are not a serial killer by night, are you?!"
"No I am not, but I do have another occupation."
"Ooooh! Are you a spy for the galactic forces? What about a bartender on weekend nights? No, no, a secret agent!" Eyesac thinks for a moment, then rubs under his chin with a tentacle. "Hmm, perhaps I failed a spot check. If you were a secret agent…you wouldn't even imply you are, would you?"
"I suppose that is a good point, heh heh."
My foot slams the brake and we screech to a sharp halt. I barely perceive Eyesac and Clank as they're thrown into my back, and it's not just because their combined weight is barely noticeable. I rub my eyes and blink several times. We're near the sight of our old home. I had just so happened to look to the side, seeing someone standing at the highest point of a broken bridge, framed by the distant rising mountains and shadow contrasting against the bright full moon.
At least I had. The figure is gone now.
The night becomes a bit colder when, details about the dark silhouette seep into my conscious mind. It had almost been like looking at a shadow of myself, but not quite the same.
Clank is peering in the same direction. "What is it? Do you see someone?"
"Huh? No," I shake my head like I'm trying to shoo away flies, forcing myself to start driving again. "Nothing. It's nothing."
The hallucinations were back. It's my own mind, still playing tricks on me. How else would it continue to do so? If I had to beg it, I'd ask for it to save its jokes until later. When? Not right now, when it looked like things would start to pick up again. I didn't need any more faceless distractions.
I sigh to myself then relax my body, letting the tools in my hands clatter to the floor. I close my eyes then roll over to my side.
"Are you ill?" Eyesac asks, the first thing I see when I open my eyes again. "You have spent a long time working in your tinker shop. Perhaps it is time for a break?"
"…Eyesac," I say.
"Yes?"
"No offense, but you're lying a little too close to me."
He shimmies back so our noses aren't touching. Eh, I was fine with that. "I'm not really tired, just stuck," I say. "I feel like it's complete, but there's something else that needs to give it a little kick."
"You can always ask her to cut back on her protein, take some yoga classes and make sure to tip the waiter when she's out on Friday nights."
"…I don't think we're on the same page here…"
"Oh, you were not referring to your relationship with Talwyn?"
"I…what? No, I'm talking about the Starqwake!" Besides, Talwyn had just the right amount of protein in her diet.
"The recycled parts machine?" Eyesac asks. I have no idea how he knew. "Let inspector Eyesac see what can be done!"
He vanishes. The ship creaks slightly above me as he crawls about, tentacles making a dull slithering noise. He's muttering to himself. I'm not sure how much he actually knows about the mechanics of ships in general so I'm a bit concerned about where this could go. "This is just me asking, but what's your experience with vehicles?" I ask.
"I've crashed all the ones I've ever driven or flown," Eyesac says. "But! You don't need a good operator to know when something's not right."
"Alright, got any ideas?" I pull myself out from underneath the Starqwake, and he sticks his head out from the Clank's car seat.
"An exciting one! Make this sidecar detach, then go," he makes the sound of air rushing, drawing a line in the air. "Joop! There goes Clank with his own wild ride! You can't have him sitting stiff all the time machismo, sometimes you just got to let him fly free! Oh and, don't forget to pimp his ride out."
He snickers then falls out in laughter, body flopping like a noodle on the ground. He rolls right into Clank, who's just now coming in. "Oh, dear, I can only imagine what has you in hysterics, Eyesac. Perhaps it is better not knowing." He studies me closely for a moment, then looks like he's stuck between horror and wonder. "And then you have that look in your eyes again, Ratchet. What is the new scheme now?"
"Confidential," I say, trying to lose the manic glint he sees. "You know the drill though, in due time you'll see. Breakfast ready yet? I'll try not to mouth your arm this time."
"You will not be hungry anymore when I tell you this."
"That's daring. What, did Qwark publicly wax his legs again?"
"Sasha needs us before schedule, Ratchet. She says they have spotted Psyclops here in the Solana Galaxy."