Chapter 6 – Interlude
Stupid.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Chris should have seen this coming. He should have kept his eyes open. He should have brought that sensor system he'd been working on with him. Armsmaster had always said that Tinkers are vulnerable and that he could be abducted at any time, but did he listen? Oh, no. Now he was the 'guest' of the bastard child of Bonesaw and Joseph Mengele, and all because he didn't see that stupid robot coming.
He'd been warned never to let his guard down on patrol or get distracted, but it was so easy to slip into daydreaming. Why shouldn't he? If he's on patrol with Gallant, it shouldn't hurt, right? After all, Gallant's got this emotion sensing power that goes haywire every time an angry person comes along, so if a criminal comes their way, they'd know. He should be safe, right?
Wrong. So very, very wrong.
Who the fuck abducts a Ward anyway? There are unwritten rules about that sort of thing, i.e. don't do it or you'll get murdered by every hero and their dog. Then again, he was here, wherever here was, stuck in a cell. Waiting.
He couldn't get out, not without his equipment. Armsmaster would have zipped together some stupidly powerful gadget that would make any of his tech look like old garbage. Carlos would have bashed his way out, laughing. Taylor would have melted the wall into dust with a glare. Him, though? Chris was just trying to stave off a panic attack. Besides, even if he got out, how was he going to get past the guards? How was he going to escape when the first thing the Boxheads did was jam an implant into his skull? One that almost certainly contained a tracking device, a bomb, or both?
No, wasn't happening.
The door opened and two men in Boxhead combat gear stepped through. They pushed him out the cell and force-marched him to…actually, where the hell were they going? Chris asked, but the men didn't reply. They never did. Everyone here just seemed to ignore him and it was creeping him out. Could they even talk? Did they even speak English?
A drone flew up to him and a hologram flickered into being. "Ah, Kid Win, my newest employee. How nice of you to join me. It'll be a few days before I can move you to a proper facility, but until then, this will do."
Then there was the worst part: Alad fucking V. God knows what the 'V' stands for. Chris didn't ask. He couldn't care enough about that man. Not when he acted and sounded like a cartoon villain. Seriously, what was wrong with that guy anyway?
"I'm not your employee." Chris tried to growl, but the words sounded more like a whimper.
Alad frowned, before nodding. "Well, I suppose that's not entirely inaccurate, since I've no intention of actually paying you, but that's beside the point. You build things, I sell them, you get to live, I get rich. That's how it goes, yes? I think that fits the term 'employee' well enough, yes?"
"I'll never work for you, you sick fuck." He growled in return.
"One: sticks and stones. I've had a long career and I'm not stranger to childish insults. Two: free will is so massively overrated."
Chris felt a shiver running along his spine. With Armsmaster's help he'd made great strides in deciphering the Boxhead's database. What he found was…unsettling. When a guy like Alad says free will was overrated, he probably wasn't exaggerating.
There was still hope, however. The Protectorate would come. They'd never leave him behind. Armsmaster would never leave him behind. The older Tinker might be a pain in the ass sometimes, but he would come, eventually. Chris only hoped he could stall whatever Alad had planned long enough for it to matter.
"Why did you kidnap me? Do you really think you can get away with it?"
"In short? Yes." Alad said with a shrug. "Why you specifically? The PRT took something from me, I take something from them, namely, you. Fair is fair."
Chris shook his head. "That's not how it works…"
"Oh, you're going to tell me how the PRT is somehow special? That they can do that sort of thing and I can't? Please. We both represent organizations made up of people. Rest assured, if you dug deep enough, you'll probably find that your leaders are little better than I am. While your organization certainly has more backing than mine, that doesn't make it special."
"We're cops. We save people. You abduct people. That's wrong."
The villain sighed. "Young man, morality is entirely subjective and thus discussing it is entirely pointless. Besides, the product you stole from my other lab… Rest assured, that eyeless mute is not human."
Silence fell. When Chris finally found his voice again, he said: "Dude, what have you been smoking?" He regretted saying that the instant the words left his mouth. He'd probably get beaten for this.
Much to the Tinker's surprise, he wasn't. Instead, Alad cackled. "You know how rare it is for people to be frank with me these days? To tell me what they're really thinking? Even when they do, they're usually spouting death threats. I think I like you." The villain snorted. "But you're right. I suppose I am a little crazy. Then again, sanity is relative."
"Sanity is relative? What the hell's that supposed to mean?" Chris asked before shaking his head. "Never mind, I don't wanna know. You're nuts and they're going to throw you in the Birdcage for this."
"I'm sure they'll try. Unlike me, the PRT has a reputation to keep and I'd be surprised if they didn't try to make a move on me tonight."
"And you're not worried at all?"
"For myself? The robot you're talking to is connected to me via a quantum entanglement communicator. Completely untraceable, and believe me, people have tried. Even if someone did manage to trace it back to me, I have contingencies. I spent the last few years on the run, young man. I know what I'm doing. Your PRT won't catch me. Better men have tried and failed."
"They're going to find this base. I built GPS locators in all my stuff. When they get here, and they will, you're done for."
Alad snorted in that particularly unsettling way. "You know, if you were a smart man, you'd have kept your mouth shut. Now, you've given me time to prepare a defense. Not that it really matters, of course: I have surveillance cameras covering the PRT building and much of the city. When the PRT moves out, I'll know and be ready for them. Thank you for the heads-up, anyway. I appreciate it."
Chris gritted his teeth. Interrogation resistance 101: don't fucking gloat. Just keep your damn mouth shut. How could he have forgotten that? That said, the worst that was going to happen was that Armsmaster was going to chew him out. The Protectorate was coming and Alad wouldn't get much use out of the information. They wouldn't leave him behind. "They're still coming. Nothing you can do about that. They're going to kick your ass."
The Boxhead's leader smirked. "Probably."
Okay, that exchange came out a little more cliché than it should…wait, what?
"Yes, the PRT and their superpowered flunkies probably will 'kick my ass', as you so eloquently put it. While I'm confident I can take on the local organization with little effort, barring extraordinary circumstance, fighting an entire hero army will be a little too much for me. Like I said, you have more manpower and resources than I do. Sure, we have the technological edge, but I've been defeated far too often to pretend that fancy weaponry will make me invincible. So yes, if the PRT gets out-of-town help, I will probably lose this base, and that's okay. You can't specialize in high-risk-high-reward ventures and expect to win them all. Have to cut your losses somewhere."
"What?" Chris brain simply stopped working. There were dozens of people walking around that would be arrested or killed when the PRT breaks down the door. How is that even okay?
"My dear Kid Win, the best way to ensure you never lose is to make sure that a loss still benefits you. Let the 'heroes' attack in force. I will learn their response times, their tactics, their weaponry, oh, and even better: I'll get to test out all of my new toys! You've already seen my harvester unit; I'm really looking forward to seeing it in action." After a moment, Alad added: "Well, seeing it in a proper battle, that is. Ambushes don't really count. It's opponent needs to have a fighting chance first, before I can call it a proper stress test."
"And the base?" The two guards started pushing him again, motioning him to start moving.
Alad casually dismissed the thought. "Expendable. The data on your operating procedures is worth far more than that. Besides, I've already removed everything of value. Really, the only thing still left is your lab and the biolabs down in the bunker…but I can't take out everything, I suppose. Can't attract law enforcement without bait. Of course, all of this is irrelevant if the PRT doesn't call in assistance and if my intelligence on your leaders is correct, they'll be too proud to do so. We'll fight, they'll lose, and by the time enough reinforcements arrive, you'll be long gone."
"They'll keep looking, even if you move me."
"They won't when they think you're dead. A brain-dead flash-clone and a few big bombs ought to do the trick. Never liked subtlety anyway."
"You're nuts." He said, mouth agape. Alad's plan was just…insane. So insane it might actually work.
"So you keep saying. Won't change the fact that I'm walking away with a Tinker. You're hardly the best at what you do, but I'm sure you'll be valuable enough."
"Fuck you!"
"And back to the childish insults. How delightful." Fuck. What he wouldn't give to wipe that stupid smirk from the villain's face. "Now, before you start yelling things like 'I'll never work for you' again, let me tell you a little something I've found out about Tinkers. You see, I believe your power rewrites your brain to a limited extent. Apparently, when you trigger, various centers of your brain, like the parts that let you experience ambition, drive, or pleasure, get attached to the part that controls active use of your power, the…Corona Gemma, I think you call it. It's a really elegant design, when you think about it. You see, your own brain is essentially encouraging you to use your power. I'm sure you've noticed it already. You can't really stop yourself from Tinkering, can you?"
Chris flinched, but didn't say a word. The son of a bitch was right, after all.
"Just as I thought." The villain said with a grin. "Now, all I need to do to get you to cooperate with me is abuse that connection. That's what the little device in your neck is for: strengthening that connection until you're physically incapable of doing anything other than tinker. Clever, isn't it? I sure think so. As an added bonus, it's incredibly cheap too! Oh, and it's also a bomb that detonates if you get too far away from the building, but I'm hoping that particular feature will go unused. Killing you would be very, very…wasteful."
They walked over to a room that looked like some sort of lab. Inside was a stick-thin, vaguely Asian looking woman, a few years older than him at most. At first, he thought she was sleeping, but then he noticed the wild look in her eyes and the shaking in her hands. When Alad 'stepped' into the room, she started screaming like a woman possessed, throwing herself at the hologram and futilely trying to rip it apart with her bare hands, all the while shouting things that may or may not be obscenities in another language.
"Now, now, my dear Bakuda, no need for that. You'll get your toys, so long as I get mine." Alad looked at the table, found some sort of device, and smiled. "There, perfect. As promised, I'll have another box of equipment delivered to you. Now would you calm down already. You're scaring your new colleague."
"Don't need." She stammered. "Don't need…" A Boxhead came in with a crate full of equipment. Bakuda dug into the box like a starving man being offered a sandwich. No, more like a drug addict who finally got her next fix.
Chris thought he was going to be sick.
Alad shook him from his thoughts. "Normally, when an employee's loyalty is in question, I use a more invasive procedure that erases memories and reshapes someone's thought patterns. It is highly effective, but the collateral damage to the victim's brain is quite severe. More often than not, the procedure severely limits the recipients artistic and creative abilities, at worst giving them the mental capabilities of one of my combat proxies. Nothing wrong with that, of course, if you're looking for a guard or a soldier, but for a scientist… No, I needed something else. Thankfully, your very nature gave me another option. After all, why program cooperation when you can make someone want to work for you without rewriting their brain?" The sick bastard giggled. "Anyway, I'm sure you two will get along just fine. I should start analyzing Bakuda's latest invention. You won't believe the kind of money my associates are willing to pay for this 'Tinkertech'. Now, be a good boy and start building something. I'd like to reverse-engineer something before I have to slaughter your friends." Almost as an afterthought, he added: "And don't try anything silly; the guards will be watching."
Then, the hologram winked out of existence and the room was silent, aside from Bakuda and her Tinkering. Chris needed to get out of here, but how? Maybe the answer lied in that box of parts…
Already, plans for a thousand-and-one devices began to flood into his mind and he couldn't resist the urge to start building something.
