ROBERT

"You don't look so good, kid."

The raccoon eyed him suspiciously. "You don't look so good yourself."

"Robert."

"Simon. Is it okay to talk?"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

His voice dropped low, barely above a whisper. "… You've come to rescue us?"

"You could say that."

"Great! How? When?"

"Well, Simon, I haven't quite got it figured yet."

"Huh? Aren't… Sally and Sonic and everybody going to spring us loose?"

Robert shrugged, resisting the urge to stare down at the bottom rung of the ladder. "I haven't seen them."

"What about Rotor? Or Antoine or Bunnie? Anybody?"

He shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"… Well… what's the plan, then?"

"The building you're in is located in the southern sector, by the old palace. It's six stories tall and I don't see any entrances anywhere. How are you fed?"

"Fed? Um, well, we don't know. We, uh, we're put to sleep every night and when we wake up, there's our food."

"Hmmm."

"There are cameras watching us, and we think there might be more. Hidden, you know?"

"Don't worry about that."

"... Are you hacked in?"

"I picked up on one of Chuck's-"

"Chuck! Uncle Chuck! Is he-?"

"Deactivated. Shut down. I'm trying to make him better, but I need more time, and I need you guys to stay put and tough it for another week or so, okay? I'm working on it. I'll get it figured."

Simon nodded, deflated but still excited. "Do you know anything?"

"About?"

"The resistance. How many of us escaped, how many are still alive, Knothole… what happened to our homes…"

"How many are in there with you?"

"Eight, including me. More in the other cells."

"Tell them I'll be back soon to give you a progress report, and anything else you need. Roger?"

Simon threw a salute. "Roger."

Robert nodded and swiftly descended Uncle Chuck's wooden ladder, all the while trying to remember if he had ever met a Simon in Knothole. He didn't think so.

Robert turned Chuck's wooden ladder horizontal, weeding his left arm through two rungs, balancing it on his shoulder, and then he picked up the gun he had hidden by a large scrap pile. He pressed his index finger against the cool metal trigger guard, feeling instantly better. He exhaled, seeing his own breath dissipate in front of him.

Up ahead was the construction job, the culmination of the efforts of the roboticized Mobians, the pounding of the forge audible even from a distance separating them. A black glacier rising out from a metal swamp, silver insects scuttling over its surface. Robert could hear them clearly at night, and at times, it felt like they were right next door.

What in the hell could it be?

He bowed away from the horizon, planning to head southeast, back home.

"HALT! INTRUDER!"

The voice was easy to recognize, in any situation. They sounded the same no matter what they said. "Aw, hell." He stopped walking.

"YOU ARE AN INTRUDER."

"Yeah, yeah-"

The SWATbot had an arm raised, in a manner meant to be threatening. "DON'T MAKE ME SHOOT YOU, INTRUDER."

"There's that word again." Robert took his chance, before the bot called for backup. He flung the ladder aside and raised the gun, firing three shots in quick succession. The air lit up with a series of awesome bursts, the color and shape of molten steel. The sounds of the SWATbot's head denting were obliterated by the sonic boom from the barrel. Robert's enemy crumpled instantly to the ground, effectively destroyed.

He traded stares with the fallen bot and the smoking gun in his hand. Hmm. Projectile rounds. Not many of these guns around anymore.

A burning plasma round buzzed by his ear. Robert quickly turn-ducked and fired twice out of instinct, scoring two hits, the bullets slamming home into the other SWATbot's arm gun. A strange thought came out of nowhere: "They always travel in twos."

The SWATbot tried to fire with his damaged arm and turned the area into a fiery photon. When Robert opened his eyes again, it was raining fried dirt and he could smell burnt hair. The explosion had taken out the SWATbot and the ground he had been standing on.

"Serves the joker right for sneaking up on me." He felt odd, like nothing existed outside of his own line of vision. His environment seemed hours old, even though he rembered the talk with Simon as only two minutes previous. He didn't remember ever going unconscious.

Robert coughed up a storm of his own, rubbing his eyes and gathering debris. Luckily, the ladder was okay, only in three pieces. He headed to Chuck's.

A lot of time had passed and Robert stumbled through the door, a cloud of dust following close behind him. He set the gun carefully on the table and chucked the ladder puzzle into the only empty corner. NICOLE let out a synthesized whistle.

"BAD DAY AT THE OFFICE?"

"You're cheeky when you want to be, baby."

"WHERE DO YOU GO ALL THE TIME?"

"Shouldn't you be hibernating?" Robert went straight to the monitors and flicked the switch to ON. His contacted comrades walked about, interacting, communicating in paranoid fashions. On one of the monitors, he recognized the one he had spoken to. Simon. The rest were unknowns.

"THEY DON'T KNOW EVERYTHING, ROBERT."

"Neither do we." Robert was nauseated, dizzy, disoriented. He flicked the screens back off. "Neither do we."