This Is The End
Chapter Six: I HATE ANDROIDS!
Wow, I hit a brainstorm.
Lucas read through the papers again, making sure he hadn't read wrong. There has to be a mistake. Twelve a.m.: Drain C6 and D7 of all sustenance. He looked up, searching wildly for a clock. 11:25. P.M.
He studied the blue prints, memorized the direction to go, and took off running from José's study, leaving the little mutant clone unconscious on the floor.
Von Reichter studied the controls. This would have to be done quickly, quietly, and very secretly. He'd need José-where WAS that brat, anyway?
He turned off the microphone that blared into the lab where Cybersix and Data 7 were imprisoned, and instead turned on a tape recorder, leaning back in his chair, hands folded. The two renegade androids have little use left for me. Data 7 is better to me dead than alive, when I can understand how that...recycled brain works. Cybersix will never yield; she's shown that tonight. She's no good to me if there's a chance she could rebel again. I've made plans to terminate them both at 12:00 a.m. If all goes well, there will be no trace of them left for anyone to find. He pressed the recorder off and readied the control panels.
Soon, very soon, there will BE no threat.
11:40 p.m.
Lucas dodged several troops of mutants as he made his way down the steel halls. With no watch, he had no way to tell if he was on time or not, or how much time Cybersix and Data 7 had left. He knew very well there was no hope for them unless he stopped...whoever it was he had to stop.
He slid to a halt. The blueprints had dictated a control room just to his left. And there certainly was a keypad. But how was he to know the code?
Son of a..... Lucas glared at the keypad and sighed. And he began trying different combinations.
11:43 p.m.
Cybersix coughed, the fire in her left arm growing into a dull throbbing. Brandon was scratching in his cell. You okay? she called weakly, holding her arm.
Data 7 glanced at her, growled in affirmation, and continued scratching.
I know I should be grateful for the rest, Brandon...but it'll be worse tomorrow. And something doesn't smell right about this.
Her brother sniffed the air, bringing a pained smile to her lips. Not that kind of smell. I meant that there's something fishy about the whole charade. He wouldn't just let us off so easily.
Data 7 looked up, as if to say: I like fish!
No! Just...watch out for yourself, okay?
Brandon implied, as he grinned, that he could most certainly do that.
11:49 p.m.
Lucas furiously tried another combination. He'd figured out that it was a three number sequence, and that it started with 3, but nothing more.
kept flashing across the screen, and Lucas really did want to bash it in.
3...5, 7, he dialed in.
and on an impulse, he smacked the numbers 3, 6, and 7 into the pad.
The doors in the steel wall slid open, revealing the back of a tall man, and the controls looking out onto the lab.
And beyond that-Cybersix and Data 7.
Trapped.
11:56 p.m.
Von Reichter had prepared everything. All that remained to be done was a statistic check and...well, for lack of a better word, *boom!*. Cybersix had been talking with Data 7-not that he cared. He'd gone over the layout of his entire plan. With their accomplice detained, there should be no problems taking care of his problems.
After all, didn't he have the right to choose which of his creations were worthy enough to survive? As God created Man, and took life from those unfit to survive, so would Von Reichter create-and take life from-his precious Cybers.
11:59 p.m. The diagnostic was finished, and everything was ready. His hand took hold of a lever, waiting for the exact moment...thirty seconds now...twenty... A hiss behind him. José? Come in here, you're about to witness history. Ten seconds.
Von Reichter was suddenly flung forward, his hand torn from the lever, and his chin and abnormally long nose smashing into the control panels. What in the- He was shoved off of his chair to the floor, while...yes, that infernal friend of Cybersix's was letting his victims free! The lights in the lab-save the emergency lights-were also turned off. What have you done? yelled the mad scientist, and lunged for Lucas.
Cybersix had no idea what had just gone down, and from the look on Data 7's face, neither did he. Brandon, did you....?
Data 7 looked at her in exasperation, as if to say, If YOU don't know, how should I?
The lights dimmed, and Cybersix could now plainly see that she and her brother were free of their prisons, and Von Reichter had been speaking with her from a glass enclosed security room-but that was Lucas!
Cybersix took off running for the room, aiming to leap for the glass. A rush of emotions flooded her: love, rage, and protective instincts propelled her to leap directly into the glass, smashing it as she tumbled inward. Data 7 was beside her the whole way, tripping over her and skidding into the hallway. He leaped in before the doors hissed shut, giving him a rather nasty pull on the tail.
Cybersix immediately assessed the situation- Von Reichter angrily holding Lucas against the wall, hand at his throat -and leaped for her creator, tackling him deftly to the ground. Brandon did his part, shoving Lucas back and leaning his panther face into the doctor's, glaring angrily.
Excellent, excellent, hissed Von Reichter.
What's excellent, you slimy excuse for a scientist? Cybersix was breathing heavily; she had not been restored to full sustenance levels.
Your performance, my dear, under your condition! You do have use for me yet, but we shall have to see-
Data 7 roared and laid his teeth against Von Reichter's throat, only slightly drawing blood.
NO, BRANDON! Cybersix pried her brother's jaws away from their creator. No, we'll die if you kill him.
Lucas rubbed his neck. I'm missing something.
Cybersix stood up, kicking Von Reichter in the ribs. Where's the storage rooms?
Wincing, he gasped out, Down the hall. Rooms...A through C.
I'll just bet. Lucas, Brandon, let's go. Leave him.
Data 7 whined. Oh please, can't I just bite off his arm?
The trio left the room faster than a Fixed Idea could follow a command-oh wait, that's probably a bad example.
Von Reichter sat up, holding his side. I... HATE.... ANDROIDS!