A NEW BEGINNING

Chapter Twelve

"Behind the Thievery"

11:12 - Planet Yeedil, Protopet Factory, Bogon Galaxy

A couple of days passed as Mr. Fizzwidget's suspicions grew worrisome ever since the absence of his leading geneticist, the researcher he put above all others to tackle the grueling, mandatory laboratory work in the development of the new protopet project--Prototype-X. He thought her mysterious disappearance was irregular, and especially of someone who believed punctuality was law, or so it seemed. As a contingency to keep the project on time, he resorted to placing the project into the capable hands of the next scientist who was more than willing to complete Dr. Cross's work. Dr. Graham. The project fell under his absolute control and it neared its completion. Soon, the new pet would be shipped off to Megacorp's distribution centers across the galaxy.

Meanwhile, Abercrombie put his worries aside and had already begun filming the first of many commercials for the new protopet.

He stood outside the factory with a small, robotic cameraman at his side. The early morning wind swept over him as he adjusted his red tie and patted down his hair. He checked over and ran a hand down his neatly tailored Megacorp business suit; his old, gray, and spiked hair had even been coiffured to his liking by a stylist minutes before. He looked sharp as ever, like a famous celebrity, while piecing together his speech mentally. After another maintenance rehearsal, feeling both confident and optimistic, he signaled his camera robot with the snap of his fingers to begin recording. The robot simply switched into its record mode, a mechanism built within it that turned its large eyes red to show that it was capturing images.

"Ahem," he quickly cleared his throat. "I'm ready, vidbot. Film in five, four, three, two..." he said, standing erect with his short arms down at his side and his eyes straight on the focal lenses of the camera bot.

When he spoke his round body jiggled, making his antennae bounce above his head. "Hello, I'm Abercrombie Fizzwidget. Here at Megacorp, we keep you warm, we keep you healthy, and we keep you safe. We've already gone the extra mile to keep you a happy and satisfied customer--and we're going even further."--he gestured and pointed toward the camera bot--"Bringing to you each year, whether it is household gadgets, weapons for personal security, or nutritious foods that keep you fit, we're always hard at work coming up with the newest and most innovative ideas to better serve you." He turned to his side and pointed at the prodigious factory behind him.

"Here at the Megacorp Protopet Factory, where we've brought to you the cute and lovable Protopet, a new and revolutionary pet is being put through its final tests, and soon it'll be the perfect companion that your children will grow to love. We are proud to present to you, Protopet Kitty. Come, step into the factory with me and see for yourself how this new companion can make a difference in your child's life and in yours."

Abercrombie turned and walked toward the facility, entering it as large, double doors opened automatically with a thunderous reverberation from its massive hinges. Followed by his vid-bot cameraman, the robot stopped the live feed, its eyes returning to their natural lime gel. Once they arrived at their next filming destination, the laboratories, the camera bot began recording again with another signal of the founder's hand. With two snaps that was the robot's cue to take still pictures instead, but to keep recording the sound of his voice too.

They stood before a long window that showcased the happenings in a laboratory where the new protopets were being housed, tested, and tagged. Inside, various researchers continued to test out the resilience of the feline creatures, checking to make sure that their previous weakness of photosensitivity had been resolved. While one group of examiners used flashlights and other light devices on one protopet, others were stigmatizing a row of others, giving them proper names and identification codes. The protopets made very little noise, which was quite similar to the original protopet, except for when they were being branded; then a strange yip could be heard.

"As you can see, our experts thoroughly test for the quality of every pet before they are shipped off. Each pet is given a unique name and identification number, making it hassle free for you to access our online databases for an assortment of accessories designed specifically for your personal pet: you have the choice of purchasing anything from food and water bowls, toys, litter brands, and much more, and if you have any questions, you can have them answered by our around-the-clock pet experts." He snapped twice for the bot to take several pictures of him pointing, the researchers working, and the new protopets playing so he could choose from them later.

The vid-bot shot several images, sometimes zooming in and out with its eyes.

"Each pet comes housebroken, non-allergenic, and sterile, so these cute pets won't be a bother to your existing ones. For the low and affordable price of a hundred bolts, you can get your very own Protopet Kitty. Or you can trade in your original Protopet and we'll cut the price in half. That's right, in half! So order online today or come in person at Allgon City, Damosel. And remember, at Megacorp, we care," he said sweetly, and then snapped his fingers once more.

The vidbot ceased the recording and sped off to put the pieces of the commercial together. The founder placed his hands behind him and studied his wonderful team of geneticists who were hard at work. Suddenly, another holo-vid bot appeared at his side, having crept into the back room of the laboratory. It was the same robot that brought him his daily messages from Ms. Noodlebottom, his secretary.

"Oh, what's this?" he said, turning to see what the vid-bot had to show him. "A message from Ms. Noddlebottom?"

The little robot expanded its mouth into a large, flat projection screen. On it, an image materialized of what appeared to be his secretary.

He placed his hands together. "Aw, Ms. Noddlebottom! Are we on schedule as planned?"

"Yes, Mr. Fizzwidget. We are on track with the protopet shipment."

"Good, good!"--he then gripped the sides of his business suit--"What's the word at our distribution center on Smolg? Are they anticipating our first shipment?"

Ms. Noddlebottom smiled. "Yes, sir. According to the report I received earlier from our distribution facilities there, they have already prepared a few million containers, including small boxes for which to individually store one Protopet Kitty to its designated box. This first shipment will be enough to supply four to five planets in the first quarter. Other facilities on Damosel, Notak, and Boldan have anywhere from half a million storage units to fulfill customer demand in their surrounding areas on the day of the pet's release, but not all of Bogon will have the Protopet Kitty on the first day, sir, but give it another month or two and there will be plenty pets to go around."

Abercrombie stroked his mustache in thought. "I see. After the success of the first protopet project, I'm sure this one will yield in more revenue by the year's end."

"Sir, do you plan on making an appearance on Damosel to showcase and distribute the first new protopet?"

Interrupted in his train of thought, "Oh, um, yes, yes. I'll be in Allgon City for the debut of the first Protopet Kitty sold. After all, people like--trust--a face they know. Heh."

Noodlebottom looked down at the cluster of reports on her desk and began to organize them, remembering another important message as it found its way into her hands.

"Oh, Mr. Fizzwidget? There was one other bit of news...a message from...the Manhunters. Shall I read it to you--"

"No, no, Ms. Noodlebottom," he chimed, "I'll read it in my office."

"All right, sir. I'll fax the message to your office."

"Is there anything else?"

"No sir, that's it." He rubbed his forehead, beginning to turn away from the vid-screen.

"Alrighty, then. Good day, Mr. Fizzwidget." The infobot contracted, minimizing its mouth-screen back into its recognizable slit of a mouth, and turned to leave just as it had come, hovering away quietly. Abercrombie turned his attention back to the commotion in the laboratory. He stared at the new geneticist placed in charge, who had more than happily procured the protopet project.

Dr. Graham, with clipboard in hand, stood in front of the next protopet that was to be branded with its unique identification number. Unlike his fellow researcher Angela Cross, he was a native of Boldan, having the privilege of wealth and education behind him. Although he appeared to be similar to her, in the workaholic style as she too often portrayed, as a Boldanian he was reminiscent of a meerkat--short, lithe, and with a slight mesomorphic build that befitted his kind and his age. Only a few years older than the true head of the genetics department, his technical and scientific knowledge aided many of the projects Megacorp funded that were equally important as the ones normally assigned to Cross. For awhile, he had managed to keep a professional demeanor about him, but after the disappearance of his competitor, he gradually allowed his deep contempt for her to surface at the sudden mentioning of the her name.

"Dr. Graham," said a tester, "we've successfully managed to fix the protopet's photosensitivity weakness. Just like you said, with an extra injection of--" The tester was cut off by the emergence of the company founder, who made his way over to the geneticist in charge.

Dr. Graham simply flicked his ears at the sound of someone approaching him, but he did not turn to see who it was. He was too content with figuring out the complex data in front of him clipped to his clipboard that an unexpected touch of his shoulder brought him back to the natural sounds of work with a slight startle, and then he motioned around and looked up at his surprise visitor.

"Ah, Mr. Fizzwidget. Is there something I can help you with?" he said in a thoughtful voice, lowering his clipboard and readjusting the tiny reading specs he always wore.

"No need, Dr. Graham. I was just checking in to see how things are going down here in the lab. I just finished a commercial for the new protopet."

Dr. Graham made a simple motion of his hand, drawing the founder's gaze onto the group of busy researchers, scientists, and examiners. "As you can clearly see, Mr. Fizzwidget, we have a profound staff always working around the clock to perfect the Protopet Kitty. I assure you, things are right on schedule. And the previous flaw that Dr. Cross's staff found with the pet has already been corrected. These pets will be the best thing to ever hit the market, sir. Friendly, obedient, and nonaggressive, these little angels are nothing short of a masterpiece."

"Why, that's wonderful!" Abercrombie laughed. "And I've just received some good news from my secretary."

"Oh? And what did she have to say?" The geneticist crossed his arms, tapping the clipboard against his side.

"Our galactic distributors are eagerly awaiting their first shipment of these wonderful creatures. Come first light, we'll have a few million shipped out."

Graham gave a bold smile. Inside, he rattled with extreme confidence, extreme pride. "I trust nothing will go wrong once these creatures are in the hands of our distributors, but it's not like it'll be our fault. These pets are perfect. Did I forget to mention that not one of our staff members have be added to a casualty list? That's a record!" he smiled and pushed his glasses back to his face.

"Why, that's amazing. Astonishing! I'm amazed at how quickly this project resumed in the absence of our top geneticist," Abercrombie said with a chuckle, patting the doctor on the shoulder.

For a moment, the doctor's fur bristled at the mentioning of his competitor. His short, striped tail swayed in indignity, and he became stiff. He promptly fixed the way he looked, trying to return to his regular self by making an excuse to roll back the sleeves of his lab coat as if he were bothered by a sudden blast of body heat.

"Is...t-there...any word of A-angela's mysterious disappearance?" he stammered, a sign of his animosity resurfacing for even saying the other reverent name in the company. "You know, this project was almost deterred because of her spontaneity. She leaves no message of her decision to 'not show up,' and this makes me question her on a professional level."

Abercrombie gave a simple, reassuring smile that showed his faith in his most prized geneticist. "No, there hasn't been any news of her whereabouts, but wherever she is I'm willing to bet that she's doing something right--for the company. I know there have been times when she's been less and less dependable, sometimes completely unreliable, but somehow she always makes a comeback and leads the company in new directions."

"I suppose," Dr. Graham said a little surly. "Despite her miraculous aptitude to conceive grand things, this project was still completed without her."

"Oh yes, we must give credit where it's due. Your endeavors won't go unrewarded. Rest assured, it would be nice to have her back. Given some time, I believe, she will contact us as soon as possible."

Graham curled his lips in a supercilious smile as he said, "I certainly hope so."

Abercrombie turned as if to leave, but returned a smile to the geneticist and his staff. "Good work and good day, Dr. Graham. I must return to my office for another pressing matter."

"And the same to you, sir," Graham returned, walking over to a lab table, putting down his clipboard, and taking a scalpel into his furry hand.

Once Abercrombie was out of sight, he raised the surgical knife above his head, found something soft on the work surface, and stabbed it--leaving the blade on its sharp end. "Angela. Cross," he whispered to himself and scowled.

Back in his office, Abercrombie leaned back in his executive chair and held the reports that he had been faxed by his secretary. The few sheets of paper, with news sent all the way from Snivelak, detailed the events after the theft on Todano. The news startled the old man as he learned how the elusive thief had managed to invade yet another one of his company's esteemed transit manufacturers on Jakata. Whoever the thief was behind the mask, it was becoming a thorn in Megacorp's side, and a nuisance that needed to be dealt with in urgency.

He read over the last part of report, which conveniently provided a call-back number. Intrigued to learn more about the partially successful mission, he entered the number into the vid-screen of his computer. In seconds, an image of a receptionist at the Thug HQ appeared.

"Thugs-4-Less," said the reptilian thug. "Pay for six and the seventh hit is free. What can I do for you today, sir?"

"Hello, could I have the Manhunters department."

"And just who is thiz may I refer to as a potential customer?"

"Oh, I'm already their employer."

The thug grinned. "I see, just holdz a sec..."

The vid-screen on his computer went black, then a series of distorted noise and static conflated, and a new image slowly came into focus. A large, reptilian person, undoubtedly a Snivelakian, appeared standing with his massive back toward the camera.

He was neither a thug brute or henchman, nor any other category of classes that defined the thug hierarchy; he was the new leader of all thugs. He looked nothing like the former leader of the organization. Built similarly to that of a henchman, one of the more smaller classes of thugs, but his body mass told another story of that a brute. It could be conjectured that he was possibly a hybrid of the two, and if that were the case, his robust body alone showed how well off he was in his body armor which adorned his chest. Long, spiked, and scaly strands that protruded from his head made up his hair, combed back to look debonair. And on his back, left sheathed in their long and wide scabbard, were his dual swords.

The holovid behind him caught his attention and he turned, almost methodically, to face the screen. As he turned, he footsteps were heavy with every step, showing for the amount of unequivocal weight he must carry. And with a heavy breath that was neither soft or gruff, he opened his eyes--flaring red.

"Ah, Abercrombie Fizzwidget," the Thug Leader said. "I take it you must want to hear more about the Manhunters' first mission?"

Abercrombie gave a reluctant smile. "That's positive."

"Very well, I will take you through it step by step." The thug leader gave a nod. "Just as the report stated, two members of the Manhunters division arrived on the scene early in the morning at Jakata City."

The thug leader reached out to touch the screen of another holovid, one of many that hovered around his station. The holovid he touched activated and went into a library of satellite photos that had been collected, switching through thousands of images until it found the one of the bounty hunters' arrival at the transit compound.

"Little did they realize, the thief had anticipated our move, and out came one of your Megacorp tanks. The tank--your armored vehicle--destroyed everything it wheeled over, and my team barely escaped the devastation." The holovid by the thug leader flipped over the previous image for one that showed the still explosions of the hangars which housed other military vehicles.

"Inside the tank, we discovered a robot accomplice, which took us by surprise. We now believe the thief is not alone in his operations,"--he folded his gigantic arms--"That would explain why he's been able to pilfer from multiple corporate buildings, on numerous planets, in a short amount of time. Anyway, toward the end of the battle, we were able to gather images of the thief from a secret satellite relay system orbiting the planet. However, the thief slipped through our fingers this time, but he won't be so lucky the next time. Have a look at these pictures..."

He touched the screen once more with a claw and a couple of different photos, taken from various angles, showed the robotic accomplice and then its unmasked owner.

Abercrombie removed his glasses to clean them, and then slid them back on to get a clearer picture of the thief. "Do you know what planet this thief is from?"

"We are still looking into that. But what we do know is that he is possibly a lombax--a native of our system. As for his accomplice, from what I heard from the two trackers, he called it XL-17. Does the XL part rang any bells?"

Abercrombie shook his head. "Not that I know of. Why? Should it?"

The thug leader smiled. Long fangs protruded from both sides of his lips. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say it's potential coordinates of the thief's next series of heists. After all, he hasn't been robbing from your corporation with a blind eye. Here, take a look at this map," he touched a different holovid with a claw. "This is a map of our galaxy. Of course, this is only theoretical, but if we put an X and an L, beginning at Yeedil, you'll find something interesting."

On a second holovid, the screen expanded an image of Bogon in its entirety, making an accurate depiction of all the places the thief had been or has yet to strike, with accordance to the robotic name theory.

"From Yeedil, the X goes through places such as Oozla, Boldan, Gorn, Endako, Grelbin, Hrugis Cloud, Joba, Todano and Jakata. These are all places near or where the thief has been to. Now let's try an 'L' and see what other places the thief hasn't gone to."

From the L marker, an X automatically drew over it, touching other planets or neighboring areas in the galaxy.

"Now, from Yeedil, we have the last part of the L shape near Notak and touching Siberius. So what do you think of this educated guess?"

Abercrombie soughed, realizing there were no other leads to follow, so he might as well go along with the hunch. "It sounds both feasible and preposterous, but what other alternative do we have?"

"It is a long shot, I know, but from what intel we've gathered from the XL-17 model droid, Siberius is definitely one of the next targets. I've already sent the Manhunters to check it out. If they come into direct contact with the unknown thief, they will be sure to take him in--alive, if possible."

"There is a Megacorp facility there, manufacturing heavy artillery," Abercrombie said, remembering the long forgotten but operational base there.

"If that's the case, then it sounds like this thief is going to need some help moving all of that stuff around. Don't you worry, the Manhunters will get there on time. They live for the job," said the thug leader as tapped the two holovids he had activated, shutting them off, and then turned to face the one in front of him.

"I will inform the Manhunters' captain. She will make sure things go smoothly this time. Should anything else come up, we'll send you another report. Time is running out for our little thief friend."

"Good job. I knew I could count on you."

The thug leader's eyes beamed brightly. "Piece of cake. We'll get you your man. Over and out," he said, terminating the holovid and leaving Abercrombie to his thoughts.

Abercrombie reclined deeper into his chair and locked his fingers, staring off ahead of him in deep contemplation. "I wonder why this thief is stealing from me. What is he preparing for?"