Chapter 4: Criminal Code
Each robot mob had its own rules of conduct (the Syndicate was quite strict with theirs), though there were a few unspoken rules—a criminal code—that were generally observed throughout the criminal Underground, such as dressing in sharp suits, avoiding attention from the law, and in general conducting business in a professional manner.
Another part of criminal code was that robot mobs may 'recruit' new robots into their numbers by any means necessary. Stealing and reprogramming robots, whether rogue or from rivals, was therefore an accepted and common practice—anyone who didn't like it had no business being in the Underground.
Per usual, the Syndicate's latest recruit was not being cooperative. The robot, a rogue construction-bot, had retreated into an abandoned auto parts factory and hidden amongst the old machinery. It knew it was cornered, and angrily called out, "Back off, spanner! I don't want to be a part of the stinking Syndicate! You guys suck!"
Elec Man followed the sound of the construction-bot's voice calmly as he treaded alone through the rows of broken conveyor belts, his eyes scanning the shadows, warm bands of electricity humming between his fingers.
"Quit being an idiot. The cops are looking at you. You are lucky the Syndicate is interested in you at all. You destroyed some of our drones trying to steal from us and now we need a replacement."
"I'd rather die!"
"Don't be dramatic."
In a burst of boxes, the construction-bot sprang out at Elec Man, welding arms raised. It was futile. Fights never took long if Elec Man didn't want them to. Thunder Beam always assured that.
The construction-bot soon collapsed to the dusty ground with a series of violent jerks. Once it stopped moving, Elec Man checked it over—but the robot was salvageable. Personally, Elec Man didn't think this was a valuable recruit (it was a far cry from what his creator could build). Still, it was leagues better than a scrapper, and would be sufficient as a warehouse guard, which they currently lacked. While wiping dust from his armor, Elec Man called in the drones that had been waiting outside to come collect the construction-bot. They would take it back to Syndicate engineers, who would make a few improvements before the construction-bot took up its new post.
As Pharaoh Man predicted, criminal animosity toward the Syndicate was on the rise as rivals began carrying out retaliatory strikes for fallen allies. Fulmen Financial had been attacked twice. The attempts were pathetic—for the other robot mobs never suspected the human Mr. Smith working at the front desk was actually the infamous Robot Master of Fulmen Financial until it was too late, and even if they had, none were a match for Thunder Beam. It was easy to ensure no witnesses on Syndicate ground, and despite these disruptions, their business carried on as usual.
In unrelated events, news reports were circulating in New York City of an unknown suspect connected to a string of crimes (primarily burglaries). It was a growing concern for all mobsters. Someone was seriously breaching criminal code, for involving the police and media introduced a lot of unwanted attention to the Underground, making criminal activity difficult for the rest of the robot mobs. Yet no one knew who was behind it. Even the Syndicate was puzzled, though the incidents had yet risen to the level to effect them.
February was as cold as January. When it snowed hard, Elec Man stayed within the fortified walls of Fulmen Financial as a precaution and to prepare for when the snow turned to rain, passing slow, uneventful hours with computer work.
It was one such cold, dreary day when the lobby doors opened with a brief blast of frigid air. Elec Man looked up and stared. The criminal wannabe in the horrible suit was back, once again walking straight up to his desk in a mass of ill-fitting polyester as unafraid as a crow looking for scraps in a lion's den.
"Hey…me again, Eric MacDonald or whatever I said. Just checking in if you had thought over what I said last time I was here."
"I'm trying to decide if you should be killed."
"What!" The human recoiled in mock hurt, still treating Elec Man like they were peers (they were not). "You guys barely know me!"
"Turning up here again is not a good impression." The disrespect of the suit alone felt nothing short of a personal attack.
Though it had been a month, Elec Man hadn't forgotten about the human. It had been bizarre for a civilian to walk in demanding to meet with the Syndicate. He had told no one about the occurrence, for the last thing he needed was for Pharaoh Man to think he couldn't handle a nosey civilian. Besides, between the escalating tensions with the remaining New York City robot mobs and the mysterious criminal shaking up the Underground, the matter with the civilian just wasn't important enough.
"C'mon, Wily has some very interesting ideas, we just need funding. Give us a chance," the human wheedled.
"I've looked you up—"
Elec Man had primarily searched for the rebellious antics of millionaires' children (which he strongly suspected the human was) yet none matched the human's looks.
"—and cannot find any associated criminal records—"
Elec Man had found no records period. Elec Man was torn between feeling the human not worth the time and incredulous frustration that he had not figured out who exactly the human was. Not that it mattered. Though there was something familiar about him that Elec Man couldn't place, and he couldn't help but be a bit interested as he watched the human over his rimless glasses, expecting more clues.
The human grinned. "Aw, you looked me up? I thought you didn't like me."
A stab of irritation shot through Elec Man, and he continued on imperiously, "However, your associate Wily has a trail of chaotic crime sprees that spans miles."
"That's a good thing, right?"
Wily, a criminal roboticist, was another human Elec Man would have betted to be dead within a week. He was considered a joke within the Underground between his nonsensical schemes in mad science and campy flair for skulls and the overly dramatic. The only worthwhile point in Wily's career was that he had somehow once been Dr. Light's assistant (a fact which Elec Man hardly believed), but he was otherwise only notable as the laughing stock of the scientific community. How the human and Wily had found each other Elec Man could not even fathom, let alone why the human willingly worked for him. Perhaps the human lacked as much critical standards when it came to partnerships as he did suits.
Yet Elec Man was certain he had the human figured out. His initial suspicions of him (upper class, loner, thrill junkie) remained cemented. He could even read the human's life story: Millionaire's kid gets bored, runs away, and plays big bad criminal for fun. A trite tale.
…But who was he?
Why Wily?
But most importantly, Elec Man really was too important to deal with this!
Elec Man unconsciously drummed his fingers against his desk, still taking in the human's flippant behavior, and said frankly, "The Syndicate is not interested in consorting with a mad scientist like Wily nor hiring someone as young as you."
"Why not? They hired you."
"I had the right connections," I'm a Robot Master, after all, Elec Man thought smugly to himself, "—And I am clearly more intelligent than you."
"You might be surprised."
"I doubt it. You're not cut out for this type of work."
"Oh, I bet I could fit in around here…Maybe I like gambling. Blackjack, poker, bingo…you know, all that stuff."
"You must like gambling, coming here is like playing Russian Roulette." Once again, Elec Man stared piercingly into the mirrored aviators. "You keep playing around with gangsters and crooks, you will be sorry."
The human smirked. "Is that a threat?"
"It's a promise. Be a good boy and go home."
This comment seemed to ruffle the human's feathers. Though he still smiled, an annoyed crease appeared between his brows. "Look, Smith, as cool as it is spending time with you, what I'd really like is to talk to your boss."
Elec Man scoffed. "There is no way in hell I'm letting you talk to my boss."
Undaunted, the human marched determinedly toward the elevator.
Elec Man followed him with his eyes, arching a brow. "What are you doing?"
"Goin' up."
"Did you not understand me?"
"No, I heard you, I just don't give a shit."
The human made it all the way to elevator doors before stopping, realizing they had no call buttons. Could he be more stupid? "That's okay, I'll wait," the human announced, spinning around. Without shame, he strode back past Elec Man's desk to sit down on one of the lobby chairs.
"This isn't a waiting room," Elec Man called over.
"Looks like one," the human responded as he crossed his arms behind his head, making himself comfortable.
…Was he going to have to kill this human to get rid of him? Elec Man stared at him, still lamenting that he was much too important for this, but if the human wanted to be treated like a criminal, fine. Elec Man picked up the phone receiver on his desk and began dialing a number.
The human looked over at him hopefully. "Calling for your boss?"
"I'm calling the police."
The human immediately bolted up, scowling. "Fine. But I'll be back."
He vacated quickly from the lobby, the sliding doors hissing closed behind him.
Elec Man placed the phone back in its cradle. It was bad form to report someone to the police, against criminal code—though the Syndicate played by its own rules and criminal code only applied to mobsters. Whatever crime this human may have become involved in, a mobster he was not.
…Though Elec Man supposed the human wasn't a civilian anymore either. An appealing air of fast cars, thrilling fights, and midnight chases was growing about him, beginning to overshadow his cheap suit's uneven cuffs or the loose thread dangling from an unraveling hem—
Elec Man promptly ignored these observations and briefly imagined what the human's previous civilian life was like—growing up in a nice household in upstate New York, perhaps going to a university, attending lectures by Dr. Light and his equals—not a bad life. But this human was squandering it all to play criminal with a mad scientist, just for kicks.
What a dick.
Still, not worth Elec Man's time. However, things were different for the human's associate, Wily. Now that Wily's criminal activity had been brought to the Syndicate's attention, things would soon be uncomfortable in the Underground for a mad scientist…which in turn might make things less fun for the human. Dealing with nuisances like Wily was no different than stealing robots or avoiding police attention, just part of the criminal code of robot mobs, nothing personal.