Chapter eight - Pushing the Limits
The closing of a large metal door caught Dr. Drakken's attention. He lifted his head up from his work to see his employee limping painfully over to the desk he sat at. With an effort, Shego lifted her hand from her side and slammed the stolen part atop a pile of papers. "There," she announced.
Drakken smiled and took the piece in his hand "Finally," he whispered to it, "I've got you." He took a jeweler's magnifying glass from the table and held it to his eye. Tilting his head back, Drakken held the part in the light to get a better look at it. Shego watched in silence as he praised the chip over and over again.
Nothing compared to the 02422 brass motherboard mattered any more. This was the piece that would lead him to the stars, the technology that would help him to truly conquer the world.
"He put up a real fight to stop me," she commented to, hopefully, drag Drakken out of his trance.
"Oh, he's just a crazy old scientist," Drakken pushed the comment aside.
"And what are you?" Shego just had to throw his comment back in his face. Drakken glared at her, but then went back to adoring the machinery. He walked over to a different worktable this one, in place of stack of miscellaneous papers; bolts and screws laid sprawled across the surface.
Dr. Drakken sat down in an office chair that was close to its last days to fiddle with his new toy, completely ignoring Shego. "No, I'm fine. But thanks anyway for asking," she said with a scowl. Shego walked off towards the hallway.
Suddenly, her hand felt wet. The green girl looked down at her palm now covered with blood. Then her eyes fell on her thigh, which she had been unknowingly touching the entire time. The cloth was torn, and a maroon stain stretched over most of it.
"Great. Just great," she thought sarcastically. "It wasn't bad enough that I was showed up by some fat freak, but now I have another suit to pay for." Shego stomped off down towards the bathroom harshly.
The suit over her leg and left arm looked horrible and she could imagine that the body parts underneath looked worse. Shego had always seen Doc Ock on TV, or Drakken had talked about him, but she knew that—if the day came when she fought face to face with him—she could beat him with one hand tied behind her back. This, however, made her even more upset knowing that some scientist could beat her in an area where she trained her whole life.
Her confidence dropped dramatically and Shego came into realizing that she wasn't nearly as skilled as she thought she was. And after cleaning up, she vowed to herself that she'd spend the soon approaching day training.
OOOOO
Kim, Ron, and Peter had set off early that morning once Peter replayed the message on his cell phone. They walked quickly down the French streets between bus stops. Kim and Peter—already used to fast paces and knowing how to conserve their energy efficiently—walked at a steady pace. Ron, on the other hand, dragged behind—his feet scraping by with each step. He had asked before to stop for a break, but to his dismay, each time he offered it, the other two would decline his offer and continue full speed ahead.
Ron made one last attempt. "Could we please stop for lunch? Rufus and I are hungry." Ron's little naked mole rat pal, Rufus, climbed up onto his shoulder.
"Uh huh, famished," Rufus added theatrically as he fainted off Ron's shoulder and into his pocket. Kim looked back at him.
"We can't stop. This guy's a walking time bomb. We're his last hope," Kim reminded him. Ron didn't seem to care.
"Please Kim?" he pleaded. "Just a little something to munch on? We've been walking without 'snackage' since four!"
Despite Kim's desire and knowledge of time, she had to agree with her friend. They had, after all, been walking before the sun came up after a few hours of sleep. She could go on without food for a long while after, but she wasn't sure about Peter, and she knew that Ron couldn't hold out.
"OK," Kim gave in. She saw his face light up. "But only a little! Remember, we have a time limit." She pointed one slender finger at her friend.
"Cool!" Ron and Rufus exclaimed in unison. "You think they have a 'Bueno Nacho' around here?" the boy looked around the small shops with zeal.
Peter joined in the search. "I don't know. It's probably called something like 'La Nacho is Magnafic.'" He joked with a phony French accent.
Kim smiled at Peter's attempt to add happiness to the grim situation. Ron looked confused. "Why?" he asked.
"Because 'Bueno nacho' means 'good nacho.'" Peter explained. Ron laughed jaggedly.
"Aha, that's funny! But anyway, this is no laughing matter."
Kim's eyebrows rose. Ron said that something serious was actually serious? Who was that boy and what did he do with Ron?
"Food is the center of all seriousness. It is not to be taken lightly," Ron lectured.
Kim's eyebrows fell back down. "Of course," she thought. "He was only talking about the food prospect." Kim strained her eyes. "Hey, there's a restaurant," she declared.
After a moment of studying the sign, Ron spoke. "'La Yum'? I don't know KP, it sounds kind of stupid."
"It's either that or nothing," Kim said.
Ron and Rufus looked at each other intently. Rufus sighed in defeat. "Oh fine. You can tell I'm a desperate man," Ron said as he led the group in towards the restaurant.
OOOOO
The restaurant, though a fast food restaurant, wasn't that bad. In fact, it was somewhat classy. They served rather nice meals and deserts, along with the regular fast food items. After ordering and a long while of trying to configure dollars into franks and struggling to understand the cashier when not one of the three spoke a word of French, they took their food and sat at a table to eat and converse. Their moods became a little more cheerful now that they had something to eat. It is quite amazing how different a person can be depending on the amount of food they have eaten.
A familiar chime vibrated in Kim's backpack. Kim wiped the ketchup from her mouth and swallowed her food before turning it on. "Hi."
"Dr. Octavious called again," the boy on the screen declared. "Want me to put him on vocal?"
"Please and thank you," Kim replied as the screen went black. A bar appeared almost taking after a heart monitor that jerked up or down with the tone and intensity of the voice.
"Hello?" the voice was unmistakably Dr. Octavious' but Kim had never heard him so weak sounding; which caused her to wonder even more about why he was calling.
"I'm here," Kim assured him.
A sigh came; though she couldn't tell whether it was of relief, worry, or oppressment. "Miss Possible, the same green woman as before broke into my house again and stole yet another piece!" the words spilled out in frustration.
"Bummer," Kim stated.
"But that wasn't the bad part," the man seemed reluctant to tell the rest. "When she broke in—I tried to stop her…"
"No shame in that Doc, I'd do the same—" Kim tried to assure him.
"No, you don't understand. After a sleepless night of tending to a few injuries, I thought about what I had done…when my anger cooled."
"Are you OK?" Kim asked with concern.
"Yes, they're only a few scrapes, but please stop changing the subject, I've got to get this said!" Otto exclaimed. After receiving silence on the other line, he went on. "I tried overly hard. I—I tried to kill her. If it weren't for those green rays, she'd be nothing more than a corpse on my kitchen floor." Shame overtook his voice for a couple seconds of silence.
"Don't you see? I'm getting worse! I couldn't control it! I wouldn't control it!" Otto burst out in repentance. His voice died down. "I'm heading over because in the time it would take for you to get onto a plane and come back, I might already be lost. Where exactly are you?"
"Uh…" Kim looked around out the large windows pasted with advertisements. "We're about one-hundred feet from the English Channel in—a small restaurant—called--'La Yum.'" Kim tried to say more but couldn't for the room had grown exceedingly noisy.
Screams of horror fired this way and that but Kim couldn't see what exactly was causing the entire ruckus. Customers panicked, ran around in circles and tripped over tables, as if some horrible monster was randomly eating people from the crowd.
"I'm sorry Dr. Octavious, you'll have to call back. There's some jerk messing it up in here." With that, the teen hero leaped up and got ready to fight. What timing someone would bother her now! The sound of metal striking the ground came closer and closer to their table. Peter stood up—preparing for battle once the fiend came into view.
"And I'd be that jerk," Otto said coming from the thinning crowd of screaming people. An amused smile was across his face. Stunned silence hung around the table. "Well, if you are quite finished with your meal, we'd better be on our way." He spoke jaggedly.
"Oh yeah," Kim recovered from her trance. "I was just wondering how you got here so fast when the readings said that you were using your home phone."
"Oh," Otto reached into an inside pocket and pulled out a small phone without any design or label on it. He handed it to Kim who stood fingering it. "Technically, it's my home phone. I just re-cased it and hooked it to a long-range frequency. According to the phone company, it's my home telephone since it uses the same electrical pattern."
"Clever," Peter said while nodding his head.
"Really clever," Ron agreed also nodding and stroking his chin as if he actually understood what the man was talking about. "And speaking of clever things," again the scrap of paper appeared – this time accompanied by a pen. "Would you sign this?"
Really, signing a piece of paper had nothing to do with clever phone frequencies, but nonetheless, Otto took the paper, scribbled 'Otto Octavious' on the surface, and handed it back to the eager boy.
Ron flipped it around to gaze at the signature only to have his shoulders drop. "'Otto Octavious'?"
"Yeah, Otto Octavious. My name," Otto replied. Ron handed it back to him.
"Could you sign under it 'Doc Ock'?" he asked.
"Sure. But you know that Doc Ock is dead, right?" Otto quizzed.
"He is?" Ron exclaimed.
Otto stopped his panic. "Never mind. I just want you to know that I won't be going back to that style of living again."
"Yeah, I know," Ron replied carelessly. Otto smiled and signed the requested name. "Oh, and could you draw a little tentacle thing beside it?" Ron pointed to the blank spot of paper. Otto's smile faded and his eyebrow rose.
"You're kidding right?"
"Nope," Ron replied with a child-like attitude.
"No…"
"Why not?"
"I can't draw. If I drew it for you, you'd probably be able to blackmail me with it later."
I will draw one. The bottom left offered.
No me! The bottom right begged.
You'll just draw a portrait of yourself. I know you. The top right complained with its nose in the air.
I will not! The bottom right protested. Tell him!
I'm better at drawing.
Since when?
Since now!
The top left remained silent hoping not to get involved in its siblings' quarrel.
Otto took the paper more securely in his hand and drew. His hand moved with unbelievable swiftness. The speed reminded Ron of an electric toothbrush. Moving in printer pattern, the image quickly unfolded. A few seconds passed and the picture was finished.
Kim didn't approve of showing amazement, disgust, or staring while with her customers, but even she found her jaw on the floor. Otto didn't seem to notice at all. He simply handed the paper and pen back to Ron.
Ron stared at the paper. "That is one cool picture Doc Ock," he commented.
"What do you mean?" Otto asked with confusion. "I didn't draw anything."
"Then what's this?" Ron asked holding up the masterpiece. Otto gasped.
The picture was of all four tentacles facing the viewer. Each line was perfect. Not one flaw was found on the surface. Otto's feet went numb and his stomach tied in a knot. He didn't draw anything… Could the tentacles actually control his nerves now? Could he be a prisoner to them already?
…Would Peter die under his hand without his knowledge? Just thinking of that prospect sent shivers up his spine.
Do you like my picture? I drew it so that no one would feel left out. I think I did a pretty good job. The top left appendage bragged.
Yeah, that was a crafty move, using his nerves like that. But next time, it'll be me.
Fat chance.
Don't count on it; I'll have already been down and out by the time you even consider it.
Wait…there is pain in the left frontal lobe. I—I hurt Father! Concern occupied the top left's voice.
Hurt badly. We must be careful.
We can only use his nerves for emergencies.
Aw blast. I was so looking forward to—
SHHH! Let him be; we have hurt him.
Now he won't change his mind for sure!
Way to go.
Yeah, way to go.
Metal head.
"Stop fighting. You're giving me a headache."
You hurt him again!
What is wrong with you?
You had better cut it out or you'll ruin everything.
"You all better cut it out or I'll –um—or else." Despite his lack of a good threat, the tentacles seemed to get the message and went quiet.
OOOOO
The team walked the length it took towards the English Channel. They stopped and peered over the edge at the navy blue water below. People sat in lawn chairs fishing with over-sized fishing rods not seeming too eager to actually catch anything, couples stood around holding hands and gazing out over the ripples, small children raced around and argued over who would look out of the few public telescopes next.
After a small while, Kim sighed. "Wade," she said into the Kimmunicator. "I don't see anything."
"Not yet, but he's under there." Wade assured her.
"And his secret lab is what? Under the water?" Ron asked.
"There are several hovercraft and mono-rail tunnels about thirty feet below the surface of the English Channel. I'm suspecting that he's in an off ramp; one that isn't being used any more." Wade explained.
Peter nodded. "Yeah, that would make sense. I mean, no one thinks of checking out old abandoned tunnels – or at least they don't risk trying." He glanced over at Otto who returned his comment with a nod of agreement but nothing more.
His head was pounding from that little incident in the restaurant. Each heartbeat teased his nerves and reminded him of his headache and also every injury that he had received the night before. Otto had taken a couple pills before he left, but they didn't seem to make much of a difference and the tentacles did all they could to dull it.
He had never taken much thought to it before; the tentacles cared about him. They were concerned if he was hurt or not, they wanted him to remain healthy. They took care of him and were always there when he needed arms to hold him. He was the center of all their suggestions, no matter how out-of-whack they seemed. Otto now thought this notion over. Every suggestion they made included him, in fact not one thing they had said amongst themselves or with him suggested anything against living along with him. Then the guilt began to set in.
The other night, they had tended to all his wounds. They didn't force him to agree to anything beforehand, the tentacles helped him without complaint. And here he was struggling to have them removed. How selfish could he be? Maybe he would be better off if they stayed in his head. The thought hit him: he didn't know how to live on his own. The tentacles had escorted him in every single thing he did. Otto never had to do anything alone. Not even wake up in the morning.
Kim, Ron, Peter, and Otto made their way down into a hovercraft tunnel and began walking down the concrete loading docks. They walked calmly through the crowd until they came to a small square panel in the side of the metal-plated wall. Kim ran the Kimmunicator down the side while she scanned it.
Wade told her that it was the right tunnel and, after looking around warding off wondering eyes, Kim pried it open with a screwdriver and gently set it on the floor. She got on her hands and knees and crawled inside followed by everyone.
Luckily, the vent was only short and they soon came to a larger tunnel that echoed every step they took. The slight vibration of frequently used neighboring monorails drowned out any sound that might have gotten them into trouble. Guided by the beeping of the tracker, they slowly moved on down the long tunnel.
If Otto were going to tell Miss Possible to call it off, he'd have to do it soon. It was too bad that she had to go through all this trouble and then have it be for nothing. "I'll pay her." He thought. "I'll pay her as much as I can possibly afford."
But just as he was about to say something to her, just as she was about to be disappointed, another thought reeled him back in. You're making a mistake. It said. You've seen what they can do, you know what they will do. They can be nice, but they're two faced. And you can't trust someone with opposite personalities with something as valuable as your life. More truth.
This was getting ridiculous. What was what? Of course it couldn't be simple; nothing could ever be simple. Again his mind changed and Otto hoped that it would stay firm: he would conquer them again—conquer them for good. But then a small fragile voice, like that of a frightened child, came in the back of his mind.
You aren't really going to remove us, are you?
You couldn't. Not after all we've done for you.
You mean so much to us, please don't send us away.
We want to stay with you.
We are frightened.
What will happen to us? Please don't make us leave.
He felt guilty again. They had been with him through everything. He couldn't discard them just because they had acted up once or twice…or three times…or four…or five…
His mind was made up. He would overtake them—completely and finally. Despite how hard it would be, Otto would have to ignore their pleading voices crying out for a savior. They didn't need one; they weren't really going anywhere. They could still talk to each other; yeah they'd be fine. They'd just not be able to talk to him anymore.
No sooner had he taken that to mind, a black silhouette with a green outline, walked in from behind them. Otto hadn't been paying attention and continued walking. But when Kim and Peter got into defensive positions and Ron slid quietly behind them, he slowly turned to see the figure.
Otto's mouth dropped open in pure fury. "You," he uttered in anger.
"Yup. Wow, how did you get those nasty cuts down your arm and chest?" she asked in false amazement. "Oh that's right, me." Shego chuckled slightly at her joke and lit her hands. Otto had been hoping that the three wouldn't notice the deep gashes tied neatly in cloth and gauze over his shoulder and chest.
"It seems as though you didn't do too hot either," Kim smirked motioning down to the rise under her enemy's jumpsuit indicating that she too hadwrapped wounds. Shego glanced down at this and growled back up at Kim.
Kim set herself ready to launch at Shego, and did all but shoot off the ground when Otto attacked before her. Tentacles whizzed past in a desperate attempt at finally defeating the person who won the first battle. She wouldn't get away this time.
Shego was doing rather well dodging the metal arms restlessly shooting for her; she had done this all before. Otto kicked it up a notch. He ran for her, the tentacles snapping at her and shrieking in the excitement of battle. The bottom left tentacle grabbed for her foot but Shego jumped and, using the top right tentacle sent for her earlier, grabbed onto the segments and launched herself ten feet or so away.
These were insane odds and Peter knew that he had to do something. Kim and Ron charged in an effort to stop the madness only to be thrown to the sidelines. Peter, realizing that Shego was well occupied, ripped open his shirt and threw down his pants revealing his Spiderman suit. He yanked on his mask and ran for the animal fight.
Things were getting way out of hand, now Otto was using blades on almost every tentacle. Suddenly, Shego was thrown tumbling across the concrete and in the split second she lay there, a blade went with a screech for her. Spiderman shot web around the tentacle and stuck it to the ceiling at lightning speed. He dropped from the surface and, nabbing Shego with a strand of webbing, zipped along and tossed her quite a ways down the tunnel hoping that Kim and her friend would take care that she didn't run away.
Spiderman returned just as the tentacle wriggled loose and squawked in complaint to being pasted to the ceiling. Otto turned in fury and saw Spiderman on the wall just staring at him through those bug-eye lenses, almost waiting for him to do something. It didn't matter. Otto sent a blade for him like a rabid animal but due to Spiderman's quick reflexes, only had the head stuck in the wall. He didn't have time to pull, however before Spiderman came at him with a heel-side kick—planted in Otto's chest—tearing the tentacle from the concrete and throwing him to the ground.
Spiderman glanced back and witnessed Shego flip a couple times and leap into an elevator in the wall that seemed to appear out of nowhere, Kim and Ron run after her, and the elevator doors shut just as they made it. He looked back at the man on the floor coughing—trying to erase the blow. Spiderman walked over to him, knelt down, and removed his mask.
"Are you alright?" Peter felt awkward even as he asked. Otto rubbed his chest as the tentacles propped him up slowly. He glanced around anxiously past Peter and then glared up at him.
"You let her get away! I was going to finish this whole forsaken struggle and you had to let her get away!" he hollered. Kim walked over to the two disturbed by his harshness.
"Well you weren't going to let her live, you would have murdered her if Peter hadn't stopped you." Kim lectured. "Instead of blowing up on him like that, you should be thanking him for keeping you and your tentacles in line."
Otto's face softened. The girl was right. He was being too harsh, he was too aggressive…in fact, more aggressive than he would ever dream of being. Worry took control behind his eyes and he spoke slowly through it. " We aren't going to make it in time." Otto stood up and dropped his shoulders. Then his gaze fell hard on Peter. "Be done with me. Save the city...you promised."
Kim's eyes shot from Dr. Octavious to Peter at lightning speed. "No, no, no ones going to kill anyone. We'll make it in time." She assured them. Nobody had to say a word to know that the probability of them actually succeeding in such short a time—if Otto's symptoms continued to get worse at the rate they were—was one-million to one.
to be continued...