Pleased to meet you
Hope you guess my name
But what's
puzzling you
Is the nature of my game . . .
- "Sympathy for the Devil", by the Rolling Stones
Chapter 2
For every Piece, A Puzzle
A wide, looming, structure rose out of the horizon, a mix of red stone carved and hewn into pillars and arches mixed in with modern, metallic platforms, solar panels, and arcing rods of steel and wire. Vegetation clung to the structure in places, as its entrance rampway stretched out over a rare moat that fed the gardens surrounding this structure.
The hovercrafts speeding towards it slowed down just enough for their passengers to take in the sight, not the least of which was Ratchet, still watching the structure in a slight level of awe. He'd never approached the Elysium like this before... even if he'd already seen the inside several times, this was a new view for him.
Aria smiled as she saw Ratchet's awe. "Anxious?"
Ratchet snapped out of his minor trance. "Just some sun in my eyes."
The crafts continued to slow down, until they were at the edge of the creeping oasis surrounding Elysium, where they dropped back to the sands as they powered down. Big Al was the first to leap out of Ratchet's craft, with Clank following behind him while Aria undid Ratchet's cuff.
"I'm warning you now, Ratchet, one false move in Elysium and you're as good as dead." Aria scolded him in advance, watching Ratchet as he checked his wrist.
"I'm not about to start a fight in there. Who do you think I am, anyway?"
Aria raised an eyebrow. "All I know is, if she wants to see you, there must be some reason. You don't summon someone who you expect to come on their own, after all."
Ratchet just shook his head as he was lead forward towards the gates, accompanied by no less than two dozen of the nicely-dressed 'escorting group' that had come for him. The guards at the entrance stood up, watching the crowd with incredulity, but soonafter went about their business. Clank ran up to pace himself with Ratchet.
"Ratchet, I have a bad feeling about this situation." Clank spoke up. "I don't see what sort of infraction could have occurred that would warrant this treatment."
"It can't be too bad. Maybe this chick just wants some advice from a professional?" Ratchet shrugged, before noticing the glare on Aria's face. "That or maybe she just really, really wants to see me. It has been a while since I've been planetside."
"Maybe she's scared stiff after seeing you take down Ace Hardlight on DreadZone!" Al spoke up. "I'm sure anyone who saw that match would be worried about ending up on your bad side!"
Ratchet grinned. "Yeah... might even be wanting to start up some sort of alliance just so she won't have to worry about anything like that... That's got to be it!"
Aria rolled her eyes, talking to herself. "Oh ye of little imagination..."
They crossed the threshhold into Elysium itself, revealing blue marble floors and an impressive array of screens, cables, wires, and other forms of exhibited artwork. The most striking part of the Elysium's grand foyer was a show-screen that spanned seven floors when lit, but turned off in its current state, just appeared to be a mesh of LEDs that barely obscured the aides, tourists, and other passersby walking behind it. Not all of the people inside were Lombaxes - every now and then there were Tyrranhoids walking along, robot secretaries taking dictation as their bosses walked on ahead, and other stranger, furrier, or just plain alien creatures making their way about.
Al's jaw dropped in awe, while Ratchet scanned the area, before speaking up. "So where is this Protectorate?"
"In her offices, most likely. Would you like me to invite her out here, or are you humble enough to go up there yourself?" Aria spoke, then glanced over to Ratchet.
"Get her down here."
Aria nodded, before pulling out a small violinist's bow. With a quick tap, its corresponding violin appeared in Aria's hands, and she cradled it between her chin and shoulder without a word. Scant moments later, Ratchet noticed that each of the nicely-dressed party members with him had also donned their instruments, some of them sitting on newly-appearing stools to help manage the bulkier of the instruments. He raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as they poised themselves into position.
A half-note from Aria later, and the grand foyer suddenly filled with the sounds of stringed mastery, as sharp cords ascended into the air. The previously dormant mesh of LEDs sprang to life moments later, with dusty, distinct figures dancing across it, moving with grace and pomp. The screen cycled the figures through colors, moving them through steps better suited for a ballroom. Clank stared up at the screen, mesmerized, and even Ratchet appeared slightly enchanted.
Suddenly, the music changed, and the scene of the dusty dancers warped itself into chaos as one of the figures onscreen shot his dance partner dead, appearing to take a hostage as the music became more frenzied and dark. The figured parted way for a cloaked figure in ice blue to step forth, daring to approach the madman. Shots were fired, but they seemed to have minimal effect, until the cloaked form raised a hand high, performing some sort of gesture... and suddenly the madman's arm began to shake, before he collapsed and the scene dissolved back into pixellated dust.
When the screen finally blacked out, Ratchet noticed a Lombax perched at the top of the screen, cloaked in that same ice-blue. The music had evolved into a roar, as she stood upon the edge, grasping a staff of some kind . . . and leapt off.
Her cloak fluttered as she twirled in her descent, resembling a large pair of batlike wings as she dived on down. Twisting in the air, she turned herself upright, the cloak flying free now as it flew up, revealing a navy-blue exoskeleton that clung to an otherwise shapely figure. Her feet hit the ground first, followed by her staff, as she landed, before springing up to her full height, her head still cloaked.
The figure glanced towards the procession, who now halted in mid-note. "Why the music now? It means less the more you play it, just because you feel like it..."
Aria stood up stiff. "We've brought Ratchet, Madam, as you requested."
"Aha, I see . . . well done then, Deputy Aria."
"Who ARE you!" Ratchet spoke, now annoyed at realizing the fresh show of bravado was aimed for him. "While we're at it, who the fuck do you think you are?"
The figure smiled. "Ever the vigilante, as always, I see . . . "
"I want answers, now!"
She smirked, before lowering her hood, to reveal a fresh face, perky ears with two small, silver earrings near the tip of her left ear, an array of shoulder-length field-brown hair, and a small circlet headband that looked like a tiara at certain angles. "Jigsaw. Protectorate of Veldin. Your successor."
"I'm not impressed."
She flashed a quick grin on Ratchet, but her disarming smile had no such effect, and he simply crossed his arms. "What, is the armor too much for you? I would doubt it given what you're wearing . . . "
"I'm not a fan of upstarts running around playing Galactic Ranger while the real heroes go and get themselves killed doing the real work." Ratchet narrowed his eyes.
Jigsaw's eyes went even narrower. "What part of me isn't 'real', Mr. Ratchet? Just because I didn't go and get myself captured at the same time as everyone else, only to be forced into killing for sport and ratings?"
"Something like that."
"Well, then . . ." she leapt backwards, her cloak flipping out to look like wings again for a split second before she sticked the landing about ten meters away, forcing the people there to fan out. "Why don't you try and show me what DreadZone taught you, Mr. Ratchet? Show me what being Vox's slave did to you!"
Ratchet grinned, reaching to pull out a harbinger, but Aria's bow struck him in the wrist. "I will NOT tolerate fighting within Elysium! And shame on you for encouraging him, Madam Jigsaw!"
"My apologies. I just happen to be eager to find out what he thinks he's learned that I haven't." Jigsaw walked back towards him, keeping an even keel. "After all, he seems to think he's my superior."
"An apparent lie, Madam Jigsaw, most certainly."
"But, Deputy, since you seem to feel that the only way to deal with Mr. Ratchet is violence, we ought to take this outside, yes? Perhaps to the Gardens?"
Aria nodded, mouth tight. "The gardens would be more suited for this, yes."
"Very well then. I'll see you all in a few minutes. Make sure Mr. Ratchet is ready." Jigsaw smiled, then leaned over towards Ratchet. "I'd hate to defeat the 'DreadZone Champion' under false circumstances."
Ratchet's skin stood on end as she whispered, his veins turning to ice for a brief moment. Her words struck a nerve, but his eyes were more focused on the choker about her neck. The mix of metal and tubing was unmistakable, but the contents of the tubing had long been emptied, the main 'jewel' of the choker cracked and empty.
Jigsaw walked off past the crowd, heading for the exit, as Clank and Al stood by Ratchet.
"Clank, did I just see what I think I saw?" Ratchet kept his eyes on Jigsaw as she walked out.
"It was a little difficult to tell from my angle, but the circuitry signal was unmistakable. I'd be a fool to have forgotten it so soon."
Al pulled out a small datapad, pressing a few buttons to bring up the right schematic. "No doubting it from here, Ratchet — going by that signal, that choker of hers is almost an exact duplicate of your old DeadLock collar."
Ratchet shook his head. "That's not a duplicate. That one's already detonated."
"But what you're implying is technologically impossible." Clank explained, looking worried, before turning to Al. "Isn't it?"
"I'd have to take a closer look at what she's got. Maybe if you can incapacitate her long enough for me to scan in the schematics directly from her model, I can figure out if it's authentic or just some costume merchandise." Al's eyes light up at the idea. "Although that's . . . rather creepy for merchandise . . ."
