"Jabberwock to Cheshire Cat, I'm in position.."
Holland looked at the time display. They were actually doing pretty good today.
"How about you, Caterpillar?" he asked over the team's shared frequency.
"I told you," Hilda grumbled, "I'm not The Caterpillar. I'm the Queen of Hearts."
"Oh, come on," Matthieu said from his cockpit. "That name is way overused."
"I. Am. Not. A. Caterpillar," Hilda said.
"Hilda, just shut up and tell me where you are," Holland growled.
He heard a sigh from the other end.
"I'm in position now, Cheshire Cat."
"Good."
He flipped to another frequency, while leaving the team one open. Moondoggie's face appeared.
"How about you, Knave of Spades?"
"We'll be in position in just a shake," the blond pilot mumbled distractedly, clearly focusing on his flying.
Holland turned back to his own controls. Wind flow was good. Visibility was a low. Everything was perfect. Well, except for his KLF, but it was supposed to be that way.
"So, Leader, could you remind me again why we're in the middle of the densest fog bank on the planet?" Matthieu asked.
"Dammit, Matthieu... I mean Jabberwock... weren't you listening in the briefing?"
"Well... no, not exactly..."
Holland put a hand over his eyes, and counted to ten.
"Look, Jabberwock," Hilda said, a bit irritably, "this is one of the last hold-outs of those idiots who still think the People's Army exists. We are, in case you forgot, very, very high on their 'shoot like hell if you see them' list."
"Oh," Matthieu said, cowed.
Holland clicked back to the other frequency.
"Knave, you in position now?"
"Yeah, Cheshire Cat. We'll be ready for the Tea Party."
"Good."
Sighing, Holland leaned back in his seat, looking out the cockpit. The fog really was thick. He could even see the ledges of the canyon around him. He knew he'd have to be careful not to hit them when the operation started.
It was crazy, but he just felt... relaxed. Normally before a battle, he felt tense like a spring. Or at least, that was how he felt before The Flood.
I mean, it's not like we're fighting the Image. It's just unstable guys in run-of-the-mill, outdated military KLFs.
It was gonna be cake.
"Uh... Cheshire Cat?" Hilda's voice cackled over the communications line.
He looked at the time display. Then he did a double-take.
Dammit! Can't afford to get too relaxed....
"Alright!" he yelled. "Tea-time! Tea-time!"
Holland gripped his controls, and brought the Devilfish to attention. The old thing wobbled a bit, and its wounds from its last battle were still acting up. Holland hadn't had it fixed purposely. This would be it's last flight.
Too bad, too. It really was a great ride.
Of course, there were some memories attached to it that Holland now recognized as bad ones. Every time he piloted it nowadays, he felt like those were eating away at him. Maybe that was why he was doing this whole crazy thing in the first place.
As fast as he could, as silently as he could, Holland's machine rose into the fog on it's board.
He could hear Matthieu had some new mix playing in his cockpit. It had a good beat.
Then, he heard gunfire to his right. It sounded like old military artillery pieces. That meant Hilda was on time.
The Devilfish shot out of the small canyon, revealing itself to the military base. Or at least, he would have, if the fog wasn't so thick.. The large black fortress loomed ominously, and Holland could see the twinkling lights of gunfire on the other side of the stronghold.
Fortunately, per the plan, the idiots in the base were much too busy with Hilda to deal with him.
That probably won't last long.
And there, as if on cue, came the base's enormous siren. Holland pushed the button to cancel outside sound.
Several squadrons of KLFs, some with more units than code dictated, rose into the fog; they were only visible from the bright shine of their trails. Although, Holland could make out the shapes of a few close by. It looked like they had even pushed those archaic models into use from the first years of the Image invasion.
Suckers.
"Alright, Jabberwock! Your turn to join the party!" he said.
"Yes sir, Leader, sir," Matthieu said a little unenthusiastically.
"Oh come on.... Matthieu, where's.... your sense of..... adventure?" Hilda called, engaged in what sounded like a furious firefight on her end.
"I just thought we were here to steal that Dream Energy stuff, not play with stinking Mark-Ones," he said.
"Let me deal with the important stuff, Jabberwock," Holland said. "You only need to worry about what I tell you to do. Alright?"
"Yeah, alright," he heard Matthieu say resignedly.
"Now, are you gonna join the party or not?"
"I'm there right now! Can't you hear it?" Matthieu asked irritably.
Realizing what was wrong, Holland let the sound from the outside filter through. Now he could hear another gun that definitely belonged to Matthieu's KLF.
"O.K, good," he said. He turned to the other frequency.
"Knave, you ready?"
"When you need a ride, just call," Moondoggie said.
"Alright, then I'm going in," Holland said, more to himself then anyone.
He turned his KLF, still unnoticed, towards the bowels of the fortress. He kind of hoped that those idiot military guys had already sent everyone against Hilda and Matthieu. Or else, this was gonna end really fast, really badly. Just because they were idiots didn't mean their targeting systems were.
He flew in over the walls, but so far, there was nobody to greet him. He veered towards the central tower. The diamond shape of the base hadn't been all that hard to figure out. A bit harder, but not very, was figuring out where they kept the stuff Holland needed.
He started landing next to their main tower. He could see the entire fortress through the fog, now. But still, nobody was out to welcome him.
Bad manners, too, the bastards.
When the Devilfish had settled, Holland opened the cockpit. The bubble of metal flipped outwards, and Holland stood up.
It was really cold. Of course, that was the way it was supposed to be, considering they were on top of a mountain. The fog here wasn't really a fog bank at all, only a raincloud drifting by, minding it's business.
Speaking of rain...
It was drizzling hard, and starting to pick up. Holland flipped the collar of his jacket up to at least protect his neck. He hoped there wouldn't be a thunderstorm, although, by the near-night darkness of the clouds around them, he wouldn't hold his breath.
He looked around. The entrance to the main building was behind him, an unattractive, functional block of black steel. It was probably locked. The sirens were still going, a howling sound that made Holland want to claw out his ears, complete with annoying lights that bathed the inner court of the base in red.
Scanning the sky, Holland didn't see any trouble... yet. He had no doubt there would be, especially when they realized his true objective.
But right now.... they're still ignorant military pigs.
He bent back down into his cockpit, setting up a couple things for later. He also grabbed several coil of rope, which he slung around his shoulder, and his assault rifle, as well as a grenade or two. He was already wearing enough body armor to stop a rhino from charging.
Finally, he had cannibalized the communications system on his KLF to make a portable headset. It was a little small, but serviceable. In his ear, he could barely hear Matthieu and Hilda coordinating attacks together over the whine of the siren.
Thus armed, and starting to become soaked through, Holland leapt to the ground. He didn't bother locking the Devilfish. He wasn't going to be needing it, and he had already taken out the Compac Drive.
He rolled on the slippery concrete when he hit it, trying to absorb the blue. It hurt.
Guess I'm not as young as I used to be.
And if that wasn't the honest truth, Holland didn't know what was.
He jogged over to the door into the military complex. He jiggled the handle, but as he had expected, it was locked.
Time to do this the fun way, then.
He pulled a mine made specifically for this purpose out of his belt. He still felt a strange exhilaration at using explosives like this. He may not be as vicious as before, but he could still reserve that.
Holland planted the mine at the crack in the door, and set its time for three seconds. After that, he stepped fifteen paces away to the right of the door, just like he had been taught.
The satisfying explosion was, unfortunately, somewhat muted by the siren and the rain, now pouring down incredibly hard. Holland was beginning to feel the water around his ankles as it filled up the fortress' courtyard.
For a moment, Holland feared another Flood.
But it can't be, he told himself. That was only caused by the reaction of the Image to Eureka and Renton.
Even so, that didn't stop Holland from worrying just a little bit.
He heard boots coming through the water from behind the corner of the building. They had caught on.
Dammit! Too busy thinking again!
Growling in frustration, Holland kicked open the remains of the blown door and stormed inside.
Almost immediately, he stopped. It was dark. Very dark. He couldn't see anything.
He took a test step forward, and almost fell.
Stairs.
That was interesting. The plans hadn't said anything about stairs. Water from the outside started pouring down the stairwell, creating an instant waterfall. Holland sighed.
When are things going to go exactly according to plan?
Cautiously splashing down the steps (several steps at a time), Holland heard the sound of the boots again, this time from the top of the stairs.
The door at the top of the stairs opened. Holland stopped, looking up to see several uniformed silhouettes at the top of the stairs, illuminated by the red light behind them.
Fortunately, that same red light shone on the steps, and Holland could see that he was almost at the bottom.
Before he could take those steps though, the enemy at the top of the stairs opened fire.
At least one round hit him in the side. Holland fell down the stairs, a bit surprised. When he landed, he thought he felt something in his leg pop. Getting up, he found he couldn't put much weight on it.
Shit. Maybe I didn't think this one through so well as I could've.
Looking around, he could see two ways open to him. One to the right, and the other, naturally, to the left. He ducked behind the right corner, just before bullets tore up where he had been lying moments before.
Well, I can at least give them an answer.
Holland ripped the pin out of a grenade. He threw it, as hard as he could with rope around his arm, up the stairs, when his enemies were taking a moment to reload.
This time, the explosion was incredibly satisfying. The walls shook, and smoke and debris poured down the stairs. Several bodies hit the bottom of the stairs also, although only a butcher would have recognized them as such.
Holland shook his head, trying to dispel their sudden ringing, and turned back to his course. The hallway ahead of him - at least, he thought it was a hallway - was equally dark.
Suddenly - proving that there was, in fact, a God - the lights turned on. Not bright lights, of course, but red emergency lights, that flashed and pulsated.
Can't be picky, though.
"Intruder alert, roof courtyard. Repeat: Intruder alert, roof courtyard. All base troops, engage," a voice blared out over several speakers in the hall.
Finally.
If they were referring to the Devilfish, then things really were going according to plan.
"How's my birds-eye view, Knave of Spades?" he asked into his headset.
"Ready for your signal, Cheshire Cat," Ken-Goh informed him.
He flipped open the portable monitor he had with him: it showed the visual they had set up of the Devilfish. There were guys crawling all over it. At least forty, all heavily armed. They all looked confused.
Jeez, that's a hell of a lot. These guys really are stupid.
Holland pressed a button on his wrist.
The Devilfish, for one, beautiful instant, turned into a swirling ball of blue and green flame, incinerating anyone too close. It was both elegant and breathtaking, somehow. Holland could literally see the implosion suck several people nearby.
Then, the actual explosion occurred, and Holland's view was cut out by a torrent of purplish smoke.
"Good riddance," he said to himself. Maybe he still did have some of that vicious streak.
Holland turned off the monitor, and limped toward the end of the hallway. When he opened the door at the end, though, he was met by the surprised faces of a platoon of guards.
"Christ!" Holland yelled, equally surprised. Before his enemy had a chance, he raised his rifle and fired off several rounds. All of them fell down. Several still moved, though, and groaned.
"Who's there? Identify yourself!" someone yelled from behind another corner to the left.
"I'm shooting at you! Isn't that identification enough?" Holland yelled back, and he tossed another grenade down the hall.
He ducked from the explosion among several of the still-surviving bodies, and felt several hands grab at him.
The grenade's blast made his ears ring again. Several shards of shrapnel flew past. A pipe must have broke, because several fountains of water started pouring in from the walls, adding to the already knee-high level of the water already filling up the hall.
Holland got up, turning around to quickly shoot several guys who looked on the verge of recovering, and then ran to the next corner.
Ready for anything, he inched around that corner and took a look. He was unsurprised to see more guards.
"There he is!" someone yelled.
"Get him!"
"Stop yelling, God! My ears are ringing already!" Holland called, and fired several shots at them. These ones appeared smarter than the last, though, and took cover around several more corners. Someone fired a round or two at Holland, and he ducked behind his own corner. The annoying alarm lights were starting to give him a migraine. Maybe it would've been better in the dark.
"Those were some charges," Matthieu said in his ear..
"Well, the Devilfish wouldn't have gone any other way," Hilda said.
"Yeah," Ken-Goh said. "One of my friends found them when he went deep-sea diving over Warsaw base. Apparently, they had been working on something that would allow them to use ruined KLFs as weapons against the Image."
"Jabberwock, Caterpillar, what's your status?" Holland asked, taking a shot at the guards.
"Well, I've just about been killed three times – unh!" Hilda cut off for a moment.
Holland heard his enemies calling for reinforcements. That was never good. He checked his own ammunition. That was low, too.
"- make that four, but I don't think that's what you're asking, is it?" she grumbled.
"I get the picture. Jabberwock?" Holland said.
The guards were trying to use covering fire to get some of their guys right up next to him. However, they didn't coordinate very well. Holland shot several of them. One of them was definitely dead.
"Well, I've gotta say, Leader, you sure know how to throw a – unh! - Tea Party!"
"Not much better, then?" Holland asked.
"Nope. I've still got six on me. Ammo's runnin' low."
"I've got at least seven," Hilda said. "Managing to hold them off from in the canyons, but, Holland, we can't keep doing this for much longer."
A guard came sneaking up around the corner. Holland stepped back a little bit, and when the guy appeared, pumped several rounds into him. The ragdoll of a body splashed to the ground. The water was almost up to his thighs. It was getting incredibly difficult to move. Grenades wouldn't work so well if this kept up.
Time to take advantage of it while I can, then.
He ran back up to the corner just as another guard was coming around. He brought the butt of his rifle down on this man's helmeted head, and shot him in the chest.
He used a hand-held mirror to sneak a look around the corner. Someone shot it out of his hand, but fortunately, he had caught the glimpse of the situation before they did. The guards were lining up on both sides of the wall now, ready to overwhelm him.
Crap.
He had two options. No, maybe three. One, he could stay here and try and shoot them off one by one. However, that made him think very strongly of suicide. Second, he could try a grenade. But if he did, he probably wouldn't be able to get all of them. Third, he could retreat.
Like hell I'll retreat.
He decided on the fourth option. He pulled the last of his mines out of his belt: he had four. Quietly, he set two on each side of the hall. He could hear the splashing of the guards trying to sneak up on him. The gushing pipes, though, were still the loudest, torrents of water rapidly filling the narrow hallway.
The walls shook. Something must've crashed into the ground up above. Holland hoped it wasn't one of his.
He set the timers for seven seconds. They wouldn't be able to see the dark mines against the dark walls, coated in the red siren-light.
That task done, he ran back towards the stairs as fast as he could with a leg that wouldn't work, and through nearly-waist high water. He knew he was making a lot of noise in his hasty escape, but that was fine. Let them think he had retreated. It'd put more surprise in what happened next.
When he thought he was far enough away, he kept going. Never could be too careful.
His leg was starting to really act up. He had to almost drag it through the water.
Then the buzz of a voice sounded in his ear.
"Jabberwock to Cheshire Cat, I just wanted to tell you tha-"
The explosion cut off the rest. Holland at least had his hands over his ears this time, but it still hurt like hell.. He knew he'd kill off his ears if he kept doing this shit.
It felt like the whole hallway jumped to the right. Holland fell, coughing, into the water. He could hear the debris splashing into the water behind him. Something hit his arm. Dark smoke filled the hall, and Holland could hear at least four more pipes had broken.
He was beginning to hate this mission.
When the smoke finally cleared, Holland was met with a grisly sight. The hallway looked like someone had just taken an enormous bite into it. Water was spraying everywhere, and most of the siren-lights had gone off in that area. There was no sign of the guards that had been after him.
"Jeez, Holland, what are you doing down there?" Matthieu asked.
Holland started wallowing towards the hallway where the guards had once stood. Nobody shot at him.
"Sorry, Jabberwock," he said. "I couldn't hear what you said before. Could you say it again?"
"All I said was that I wanted to tell you that I'm grounded."
"What?" Holland asked, half-surprised, half-angry.
"They got my board. I'm holding out from the bottom of one of these canyon things with Hilda. I don't think we're gonna be able to keep it up much longer."
Holland cursed. The rope around his shoulder was beginning to get really heavy. Oh, and the armor. That was getting heavy too.
"Alright," he said, running a hand through his dirty, rubble filled, wet hair. "I'm trying to hurry. Just hang on for a minute, alright?"
"O.K," Matthieu said, and then the line clicked off..
"Jeez," Holland complained to the corpse of a guard he almost tripped over, "who'd have though you guys would be so much trouble?"
He pressed on. The next hallway was where they had been holding out for so long. There was no sign of them there, either. This entire stretch looked like it had been bombed out. Which it had.
The road split into three directions from here. One went left, and slightly up, which had the lights on. Another led down, and to the right; it's lights were flickering dangerously. Holland could see there used to be a door blocking this path. The water was plunging down it now, though, and to Holland's surprise, actually lowering the level in the hallway. In fact, the current tried to pull Holland down these stairs as well.
But the third path led straight forward. Holland knew that was the one he needed, partly because it said 'Hazardous Materials' on the door, but also because of the plans he had seen of the base.
Holland tried to open the door for this path. It was locked.
Alright, he officially hated this mission.
Grumpily, Holland searched through his pockets and belt. No more explosives. He didn't think he could kick down the door, either. It looked pretty thick. The handle didn't have the lock on it, either, so shooting through it wasn't an option. There were no windows.
Dammit.
Holland didn't know which way he was supposed to go.
Suddenly, the door opened, and out came a frightened-looking scientist. Apparently, he hadn't expected to see a heavily armed man outside the door, because he immediately tried to close the door again.
Holland stuck his foot in the door. Water started rushing through. The scientist looked terrified. Holland smiled, and slowly pried the door open. The white-coated man's strength was negligible.
"Hello," Holland said in his best frightening tone. "I was wondering if I could view your research data. You see, I'm working on the same thing, and thought we might be able to compare notes."
"G-g-get away!" the scientist cried, and, abandoning his attempt to hold the door closed, pushed past Holland and through the hallways. Holland let him go. He wasn't important.
Holland stepped into the next room. It was a circular room, not a hallway, first of all, for which Holland was thankful.
It was quite a large space, actually, with scientific equipment all along the walls, all circled around a small shelf in the center of the room, which held canisters of what Holland wanted: L-17-10.
Water was starting to pool at the bottom level of the room, which held the shelf. There were no red emergency lights in the holding chamber. Everything was dark except for a single light that shone down on the middle of the room.
"Well, that's suspicious," Holland mused.
He felt something cool and metal against the back of his head.
"So are you."
Well, that's just great.
He felt the pistol push against his head.
"Drop your gun," the mystery man said.
But something about the voice reminded Holland of someone.
"Will? 220J? Is that you?"
There was a pause.
"350Z? You're the terrorist everyone's after?"
Holland grinned.
"It is you!"
He started to turn around, but felt the gun press harder into the base of his skull.
"Not so fast, 350," he heard his old friend say. This time, though, his voice seemed angrier.
"Actually," Holland said, cautiously turning back towards the center of the room, "I go by Holland now."
"Well, then, Holland, you still haven't dropped your weapon."
William's voice was cold as ice..
"Will? Come on! What's going on? You're not actually working for these guys, are you?" Holland asked incredulously.
"I said DROP YOUR WEAPON!" Will yelled, and smashed the gun over Hollands head.
Holland hit the ground, falling a little down the steps leading to the center of the room. His head hurt like hell. He found he had dropped his rifle.
He looked up behind him, finally able to see the perpetrator.
Will Baxter, or 220J, as he had been known after the Agony, stood there, his usually calm, cordial features twisted with rage. He hid his blond hair under a military cap, and his normally sparkling blue eyes were dull as flint.
"Shit, Will," Holland muttered, "you really have joined them, haven't you."
Will didn't say anything, just pointed his gun straight at Holland's head.
"Will?"
No answer. The blond man only stood there, stock still, almost at attention. There was hate in his eyes. It looked like he was trying to decide what exactly to do with Holland.
"Why'd you do it? Why'd you join the military?"
Now Will spoke.
"You joined the People's Army, Holland. I heard about it. Couple buddies of mine fought you."
Holland shrugged a bit.
"Well, yeah, but we did it illegally. You did it for real."
No answer.
"Didn't you have a house and everything too? And that girl, 450F? Martha? What happened to-"
Suddenly, Holland stopped, and realized his mistake. But before he could correct it, Will exploded.
"Martha's dead you idiot! Along with everything I ever owned!"
His face was contorted in anger, his breathing heavy.
"It all got washed away in The Flood! The one you caused!"
His hand shook as he spoke. Holland was a little worried he'd fire the pistol on accident.
Actually, he was worried Will would fire the gun on purpose.
Will stood there, looking like he had more to say, but was afraid of what would happen if he said it.
"Why did you have to do it, 350? Why couldn't you just accept the way things were?"
This struck Holland as stupid.
"Why?" he asked angrily. "You wanna know why? Because the world was going to kill us all off early! You, of all people, should know that!"
Will shook his head in disbelief.
"You idiot!" he argued. "We were still alive. Wasn't that enough? Forget how much time we had, we at least had what we had. Now, thanks to you, hundreds of thousands of people will never have anything!"
Holland scoffed.
"Fine. If you wanted to be content with the way things were, then that's your business. We weren't. And we did something about it."
"You killed innocents around the world!"
Will looked Holland straight in the eye.
"And now," he said, "I'm going to kill you."
Holland didn't think Will had it in him, but he didn't say anything.
Actually, sometimes he did feel like he should die for what he did. But that was why he was here. To make up for it. To try and atone. He was trying to fix the lives of two people who had already gotten mixed up in their... no, his idiocy.
But he couldn't say that to Will. He didn't know why, but he just couldn't.
"Well?" he asked his old friend. "Either shoot me or not. You're taking all day about it."
Will's hand shook. But it looked like he was going to do it. Holland sighed internally.
Oh well. I had a good run. Talho and Wendy are alright, and they'll manage without me. I hope Matthieu and Hilda get out alright.
Really, he would've liked to fix those regrets he had, but, if this was how he had to go, than he supposed he could accept it.
But then, Holland saw Will stop. The blond man in the uniform was listening to something in his ear. A radio, maybe?
A look of great annoyance came over his face.
"Come on," Will spat disgustedly, gesturing with the pistol. "I'm supposed to take you to the command center. They say they want you alive."
Holland was surprised.
"Really?" he asked.
"Yes, really!" Will said, angrily.
"No," Holland said. "I mean, you're really going to just let me go like that? You're going to listen to orders instead of fulfill your revenge for all the souls that have died?"
Will shrugged.
"They didn't say they weren't going to kill you. They just said they aren't right now. I figure I can wait," he said.
He beckoned to Holland with the gun again.
"Come on," he said. "Terrorists first."
Holland got up, slowly and painfully. His leg hurt terribly, not to mention the recently added pain in his head.
Still, that didn't keep him from thinking clearly. Will was holding the gun like a robot, his arm bent at almost ninety degrees.
As Holland passed by his old friend, he snapped out his arm, grabbing the pistol and twisting it out of Will's hand.
Will yelled in surprise, trying to wrestle the gun back from Holland. He kicked Holland's leg. Holland grunted in pain, but held onto the gun.
They struggled for control of the weapon, scuffling closer to the stairs.
Suddenly, Hollands foot couldn't find any floor below it, and the pair fell down the steps.
Holland landed more or less deftly, but Will hit his head against the tile floor. He didn't move.
"Will?" Holland asked, poking his friend with the pistol.
He put his ear to Will's chest. His heart was still beating. That was good. He was just knocked out. That was even better.
Holland stood up.
"Sorry, Will, but you chose the wrong side," he said to the fallen man, and then turned towards the center of the room.
The shelf that held the L-17-10 was smooth metal, and about as tall as Holland was. Standing next to it, Holland could feel the temperature drop rapidly, almost like he was standing outside in the snow.
Large canisters lined both sides of it, about the size of footballs, only looking more like oversized pills. They had labels, but they all said the same thing:
MATERIAL L-17-10. HAZARDOUS MATERIAL. DO NOT EXPOSE TO HEAT. HANDLE WITH EXTREME CAUTION.
Holland stepped carefully around the shelf. He thought the canister on the far right of the middle shelf looked fine for his purposes.
He unfurled the rope from around his shoulder.. Working quickly, he tied two nooses at both end of it.
"Knave of Spades? This is Cheshire Cat."
"Cheshire Cat? We hear you."
"Time for you guys to join the Tea Party. They should be all spent by now.. Sweep 'em up."
"Alright, Cheshire Cat. Can do."
Holland raised a hand up to his ear, and turned to the other channel.
"Caterpillar?"
"Jesus, Holland. When're you going to be done in there? I was beginning to think you died, or something."
"Very funny. Look, help should be on the way in... thirty seconds. How are you guys doing?"
"Well, we're both gonna need serious repairs on the KLFs, but, other than that, we should be fine."
"How's Jabberwock?"
"Oh, he's with me in here. He's unconscious."
"What?"
"The fog's clearing up. They saw where he was, and collapsed the canyon wall above him. In all the confusion, I was able to pull him out, and I'm using the rubble as cover, but he's out cold."
Dammit.
"Well, help should be there now."
"Yeah, I see them."
Holland could hear the loud sound of the Gekko's guns on Hilda's end of the line.
"You are going to be done there in a little bit, right?" Hilda asked.
Holland nodded to himself.
"Yeah. Just wait for my signal."
"Alright. Queen of Hearts, out."
Holland finished tying the rope correctly. He shrugged. If she wanted to have a certain codename, he wasn't going to stop her.
He brought one of the nooses up to the edge of the canister he wanted. Even from there, the canisters just radiated cold. It felt like his hand would fall off. That woman – Sonia – had said that was just the cooling system, but still. It was cold.
With one end of the canister in the noose, and the other noose poised beyond that, Holland slowly teased the freezing pod out of it's shelf.
When it had reached the edge of the shelf, and started to fall through the noose, Holland used let it fall through the other loop, and then tightened both. The canister was firmly caught.
He held the rope carefully. Even though the canister was now firmly in his grip, he still had to be careful with it.
"Alright," he said into his headset. "Cater- I mean Queen of Hearts, meet me in the Tugly Wood."
"Roger, Cheshire Cat."
Holland limped back up the steps, casting a passing glance at Will. It was too bad he was a military idiot, now. Holland might have took him with them.
Walking back through the hallways was much easier than it had been before. In fact, the whole complex seemed deserted. There was no more siren, although the lights were still flashing. Holland bet that the fortress had been abandoned.
The pipes had apparently emptied, because there were only puddles left in the long, body-ridden halls.
Holland grunted in pain as he limped up the long stairway back to the courtyard. He kind of wished that he hadn't hurt his leg. But, it couldn't be helped. So long as everyone else was fine, Holland was fine.
It's weird. I don't think I really care about myself anymore. Before everything with Renton and Eureka, all that mattered was my survival, and Talho's. Now, though, things are different. I wonder if it was Renton or Eureka who did that? Or something else?
He shook his head. He didn't know. That sort of thing, thinking about himself, was not a luxury could afford. Not right now.
He pushed open the door he had broken into. The rain had stopped. In fact, the fog was breaking up. A cold wind was starting to blow through the courtyard, and a yellow sun shone overhead.
That sun was soon obscured by the large shape of a KLF.
Holland waved as Hilda landed. He made sure the canister was good and tight in it's makeshift cradle.
The KLF dropped to its knees, extending a hand out to him. Holland limped over and crawled onto it. The hand closed partway, protecting him, and the canister from the elements. She even cradled that hand with her other hand, causing the KLF to look, ridiculously, like it was praying.
"Well, guys, mission accomplished."
"Yeah," Hilda said in his ear. "Until, of course, the next time we do something stupid like this."
"How's Matthieu?"
"Fine. He woke up, thought he was back in his recording studio at the Major General's. We packed his KLF on the Gekko."
"Alright," Holland said. "Let's go home."
…..................................................................
"So, I'm sure you've all noticed by now that we have... visitors."
There were nods. Those who had seen the other Renton and Eureka looked incredibly unsettled, and those who hadn't yet were just confused.
Talho was standing next to the door. Stoner was leaning against the balcony outside, looking in. Everyone else was arrayed around the room, either sitting on Stoner's bed, or one of the many chairs. Gidget and Moondoggie were sitting on the ground.
"So, what exactly is going on here, Holland?" Talho asked, with just a touch of annoyance.
Holland grimaced.
"Well," he said, "we don't really know yet."
"That's helpful," Hap muttered.
Holland glared at him. He was trying the best he could to explain it to all of them.
"All we know is this: they look almost exactly like our Renton and Eureka, and they don't come from... our planet."
"So, they're like, aliens?" Gidget asked.
Holland put a hand behind his head.
"More like... people from the other side of a mirror."
He looked over at Stoner.
"Right?"
Stoner shrugged.
"You know as much as I do," he said.
"Oh, come on!" Matthieu complained. "That's bull!"
Holland sighed.
"Stoner, would you tell them what you know? I'm horrible at explaining things."
After stomping out his cigarette, Stoner walked into the room next to Holland.
"Look," he said. "It's really quite simple. They aren't from our universe. They recognize some things in this world, like KLFs, and battleships. They came from a place called Warsaw. They even know some things, and say some things, that I've never heard of before."
"But-" Matthieu started, but stopped, as Stoner held up a finger.
"I'm not finished. They don't know other things. For example, they had never seen the ring, or Renton and Eureka's moon before. And they don't know anything about lifting."
"They don't know lifting?" Moondoggie asked. "Is that even possible?"
"Apparently, from where they come from, a world I assume is very much like ours, lifting doesn't exist."
"Alright, but if that's all true," Hilda said, "then what do they want? Why are they here?"
Stoner shrugged.
"From what I understand, they got here by accident."
Mischa raised an eyebrow.
"Accident? How do you cross over into another universe on accident?"
"We don't know yet," Holland spoke up. "But we're going to find out."
"How?" Talho asked.
"We're going back to Tresor," Stoner said.
"We?" Ken-Goh said, surprised. "You too?"
Stoner paused. Holland could see him mulling over what to say.
"I... just feel... responsible for these kids now," he finally managed.
"What about everything else?" Talho asked. "We have a political summit next week, not to mention we were supposed to meet with Jurgens in two days to keep up appearances. What about that?"
Holland had a ready answer.
"We can just tell everyone we're following a lead on Renton and Eureka down to the Earth."
"But why?" Talho asked.
"Why what?"
"Why are we doing this for two people we don't even know?"
Holland looked at her.
"Talho, we do know them. This is Renton and Eureka we're talking about."
She shook her head.
"No, it's not. I can already tell their personalities are different. Am I right, Stoner?"
Stoner nodded.
"Yeah," he admitted. "They are very different people. But-"
"But what?"
"They're just two kids trying to get home. Are you really going to deny them that? Regardless of what we 'have' to do, shouldn't we help them? I thought the whole point of Gekkostate was doing the right thing."
"No," Talho said, "the whole point was to stop Dewey, and the wars we've caused. That's it."
"Alright," Holland interjected, standing between them. It looked like Stoner wanted to say something else, but, fortunately, didn't. Holland was surprised. Stoner wasn't normally the conflict type.
"Let's vote," Hap said.
"Yeah," agreed Anemone.
"I concur," Jobs said.
Holland looked around.
"Does everyone want to do that?" he asked.
There was the sound of general assent. Although Talho, Mischa, and Moondoggie looked opposed to the idea, everyone else seemed alright with it.
"O.K, then," he said, "Hap, how do you want to do this?"
"Secret ballot?" Hap shrugged.
"Stoner, you got any paper?" Holland asked.
"Uh..." Stoner mulled it over. "Yeah, I think I do. It's in my briefcase... no, wait, I got rid of that thing... so... it's probably in one of the drawers around here."
"Could you get it?"
The photographer nodded. He went over to one of the desks in the room, and ruffled through it. He came back with several sheets of blank paper.
"Alright," Holland said. "Hap, you wanna-"
Hap came over, and Stoner handed him the paper.
Then, he went around, and gave out half a sheet of paper to each person.
"Just write 'yes' or 'no'," Hap said. "Yes means we'll help out the... what are we calling them?"
Holland shrugged.
"I don't know. Just Renton and Eureka for now."
Hap didn't look like he liked the idea.
Dominic spoke up.
"What about Rentin and Eurecka?" he said.. The way he pronounced their names was just slightly different, but noticeable enough.
"Sure," Holland said. "That works. Or, 'the other Renton and Eureka'. Whatever works."
Hap shrugged.
"Alright," he said. "Yes means we'll help out 'Rentin and Eurecka,' and no means we won't. I suppose you can abstain, but that's really just stupid if you do. Fold your paper in half, and then I'll come around and collect it. No looking at anyone else's paper, obviously."
Everyone shifted so that nobody else could see their papers.
"Uh... what are we gonna write with?" Woz asked.
"Oh for the love of-" Holland put a hand over his face. Sighing, he turned to Stoner.
"Pencils?" he asked.
Stoner went around and gave everyone spare pencils or pens.
For a while, there was only the tiny sound of scratches on paper. After a little bit, Hap went around and collected the folded sheets.
"Woz, it has to be 'yes' or 'no' or 'abstain'. You can't write anything else," he said, handing the paper back.
When he had finally gotten everyone's papers together, he showed them to Holland and Stoner, and they tallied them up.
"Alright," Hap said, a little annoyed. He glared a little bit at everyone as he said it. "The final tally is 5 – 3 – 5, with five who say yes, five who say no, and three who chose to abstain. I hope you know this means we'll have to vote again."
"Wait a minute," Talho said. "Holland didn't vote."
"Oh," Holland said, surprised. "I guess I didn't."
Hap turned to him.
"Well? What'll it be?"
Holland looked around at everyone watching him.
"I guess the whole 'secret ballot' thing would be kinda pointless now, huh?" he asked.
Hap nodded. Holland took a deep breath.
"Well, that's good," he said, "because I want everyone to know where I stand on this."
There was a long pause.
"....And?" Hap asked.
"We're going to help this other Renton and Eureka get home," Holland said firmly. He looked directly at Talho as he said it.. Her face, unsurprisingly, was skeptical. With each word, though, she seemed to listen a bit more."Because we've all had the experience of almost having our home becoming lost forever. How do you think they must feel? Just like we did, back when we thought the world might get blown up by Dewey! We didn't let him take our home away from us, and we're not going to take let these guys get their home taken away, either."
There was a long silence.
"Alright," Hap finally said. "The final score is 6 – 3 – 5."
He threw away the now meaningless scraps of paper.
"Looks like, for now, Rentin and Eurecka are our friends."
..............................................................................
How's everyone doing? I wanted to ask you: do you like the way I'm doing it right now, with only two or three viewpoint shifts in one chapter, or do you think it would work better with lots of different viewpoint shifts, maybe even revisiting certain viewpoints in a given chapter?
And, a question to get you thinking. How do you view the two Rentons as different? Would Renton from the tv series exact revenge if someone he loved was lost? Would movieRenton?
Edit: This section is gone because I got the response I needed. Readers are now able to submit anonymous reviews.
Beta credits to alaska-sama.
