Chapter 6: Criminal Code Invoked
King had been elected as a Senator of California in 1989, a major feat for the Syndicate—especially at the time. Only the Syndicate bosses outranked him, and because of his political position, King's services to the Syndicate were indispensable, which accordingly made him act pompous.
Elec Man had never met King, but at the beginning of April, King came unannounced to the Cleopatra Casino during the middle of the night (as was his way). Tommy Blackjack and Louie Roulette gave up their private lounge in the Cleopatra for King's use, and he had called Pharaoh Man and Elec Man to meet him there. King was tall and imposing with a short, dark brown beard. He wore an expensive camel hair overcoat and matching fedora over an impeccable gray suit with royal purple silken tie, a gold watch glinting from his wrist.
"My flight to D.C. got rerouted due to weather, so I decided to drop by," King told them loftily. "This will be a more pleasurable way to spend time than schmoozing the usual tools. I haven't seen you since you've moved to New York, Pharaoh Man, and I want to congratulate you on the work you have achieved thus far."
King seemed bored. He lounged lazily in Tommy Blackjack's chair, his eyes roving the Egyptian decor of the private lounge disinterestedly as Elec Man and Pharaoh Man stood before him in their armor, his two expressionless robotic bodyguards stationed on either side of him. Truthfully, the Syndicate's day-to-day activity in New York City was beneath King, but he needed a few favors against political opponents, and likewise Syndicate Robot Masters needed his assistance with cover-ups from time to time, and it was good practice to keep up all relationships within the Syndicate. However, King's interest became piqued as Pharaoh Man and Elec Man recounted their work against the other New York City mobsters, particularly of Elec Man's involvement. He sat up straighter in his chair, running his fingers along the armrests restlessly, his eyes gleaming.
"That sounds like a nasty piece of work dealing with the Good Boys Guild, yet you are becoming seasoned to this line of work I suppose?" he asked Elec Man.
"I did my job, that is all," Elec Man answered with matter-of-fact crispness.
King raised his brows, his green eyes swept up and down Elec Man. "Oh…I like you." He looked over at Pharaoh Man. "Well! These newer Robot Masters cut straight to business, don't they?"
Pharaoh Man had been watching King the entire time with folded arms. His brows drew together slightly, but he said nothing.
They spoke of Syndicate business and pleasantries for another fifteen minutes, until finally King rose to his feet. "I must be off. It would not do to be seen here. Elec Man, would you see me out?"
Elec Man and King walked down the hall sandstone hall side-by-side, the robotic bodyguards following at a short distance.
"You must be making our fearless leader very proud," King spoke up. "You do take after him, you know."
"So I've heard," Elec Man said dryly. Ever since his activation, Elec Man's demeanor was often compared to his creator by other Syndicate members.
"And you've never known a life outside of crime?"
"That's right."
Elec Man hated small talk and wished King would just get to the point of whatever he was driving at.
"I have been following your 'career.' You're doing so well here," King continued. "Perhaps once you have New York City straightened out, you could be transferred to D.C., work directly under me, officially as an aide. What would you think? Would you like that?"
Elec Man stopped walking and shot King a piercing look. "You need protection?"
King turned to Elec Man, his smile became slightly stiff. "No, I don't need protection." He nodded to his robotic bodyguards, which he kept with him at all times.
"Then you want me to do your dirty work."
"I prefer to call it business—Syndicate business. Same as you would do here, but on a greater scale."
"Why not ask Pharaoh Man? He is more experienced."
King gave a small shrug. "Pharaoh Man is part of an old guard. Different philosophies on things," King answered offhandedly, as though naturally Elec Man would understand.
But Elec Man didn't understand, not quite. Pharaoh Man was older, and typically more sentimental than Elec Man thought wise for any Syndicate Robot Master, but the way King was framing things felt…off. He was also acutely aware that King's towering robotic bodyguards were now standing just over his shoulders like hawks ready to swoop.
"If you need a Robot Master, you should go directly to Centum. It is not for me to choose where I am stationed," he stated, coolly differing to a higher power, the Syndicate bosses—specifically, his creator.
King wasn't so easily deterred. "Perhaps…but you were given the choice to come to New York?"
"…Yes."
"So you would agree that you are given some latitude in your work…though perhaps you do only as you are ordered anyway?"
"I'm not a child."
"No…but you are treated like one. Working here…you could almost say Pharaoh Man is your keeper."
There was a cold pause. Elec Man only continued to glare at King, determined not to give King even the slightest indication of his sentiments toward that statement.
But King's smile only widened. "I'll talk to Centum about it and get it arranged, but there is no point unless you're on board, so what do you say?"
"I…" Elec Man hesitated.
"Take your time, think it over," King said smoothly. "Remember, we're family. If this is what you can do in New York within a few months, imagine what you could do in D.C. within a few years. If I were you, I would take your future into your own hands."
Still smiling, King strode off toward the entrance of the casino, his robotic bodyguards leaving Elec Man's side to follow.
Elec Man watched them go, frowning. Despite King's pompousness bordering into impertinence, it seemed logical to accept his offer. As King said, it would be for the good of the Syndicate, and his creator would likely consent to a transfer to Washington D.C…
Still, in spite of King's words, Elec Man later asked Pharaoh Man for his opinion on King.
"I think you saw for yourself what he is like," Pharaoh Man answered easily.
"He seemed to insinuate that he and I have a lot in common."
Pharaoh Man snorted. "Your attitude may exasperate me sometimes, but I've never felt your ambition conflicted with your loyalties." He did not elaborate further.
In the days that followed, Elec Man decided he'd give King's offer for his future careful consideration, but in the meantime, there was still business in New York City.
…Elec Man never had a chance to come to a decision about King's offer.
It started as a perfectly ordinary workday for Elec Man.
He sat at the front desk of Fulmen Financial, posing as Mr. Smith in his usual black suit. The sun shined outside, gleaming blindingly off the sidewalks. Elec Man was deeply engrossed in the work of his computer, digging through corporate files a contact had dropped off for him that morning, when he heard the soft hiss of the sliding front doors. Accustomed to interruptions, Elec Man tabbed out of his work, ready to swiftly dispatch any intruder, but when he looked up, he started.
A robot in red titanium armor strode into the lobby. He looked like a soldier, save for a bright yellow scarf draped nonchalantly around his neck. Elec Man wasn't fooled. This wasn't anything like a scrapper, a criminal robot, or even a rogue Robot Master—this was something else entirely.
"I think I have an appointment?" the robot announced as he smiled ironically down at Elec Man.
Unconsciously, Elec Man propelled his rolling chair back from the desk, putting distance between himself and the robot without taking his eyes off him. His pulsar pulse beat fast. There was something familiar yet distorted about this situation as he stared up at the robot's mirrored visor and the bright, dimpled smile in a human-like face.
…That voice…
"Look, I won't hurt you…" the robot added gently, "…Just take me to whoever makes decisions around here and you can go."
Elec Man nodded, thinking fast. Stay calm, he thinks you're human. He somehow knew instinctively this robot would not harm a human. Two options lay before him—escape and get help, or fight.
His hands closed into fists, the unbeatable Thunder Beam coursing just beneath his fingertips.
With his decision made, Elec Man stood up and opened the handleless door behind his desk and began walking down the blank hallway. The robot's titanium footsteps echoed just behind him, following closely but not threateningly. Elec Man picked up his pace, losing the robot as he turned a corner then hurried at inhuman speeds through a dark chamber and into his office. He needed to change into his armor, fast.
The robot had become wary, his echoing footsteps slowing as he approached the dark chamber. Elec Man took up position next to the door of the hallway, waiting.
"…Smith?" the robot called, stepping cautiously into the room. One of his arms had changed into a blaster.
Elec Man threw the door shut behind the robot, then shocked him with Thunder Beam. The robot slammed forward to the steel-plated floor, completely immobilized as electricity cycled through his circuits.
Elec Man relaxed, confidence returning. He waited for the robot to regain his senses before using the toe of his boot to flip the robot onto his back. With electricity still humming through his fingers, Elec Man crouched down and pulled off the robot's visored helmet.
Though the room was only lit by a single low-wattage, reddish lamp, the flickering light of Thunder Beam illuminated his unmasked face and his carelessly styled hair. Unusual amber eyes squinted up at Elec Man. Their expression was recognizable—cold and detached, the look of someone both impatient with the world and who volunteered for the most dangerous jobs, heedless of their own life.
Elec Man smiled down in triumph. "You're the poorly dressed idiot who keeps bothering me. If I had known you were a robot, I would have done this a long time ago…I warned you, yet you were too stupid to heed me."
It was incredible. The missing piece to the human's puzzle…he wasn't human at all, but an android who impersonated being human, like Elec Man. The other clues began to resolve into a clear picture, and Elec Man's interest in him increased a hundredfold. The armor certainly suited the robot much better than his awful gangster disguise—in fact, the craft was on par with the Syndicate Robot Master.
The robot examined Elec Man with likewise recognition and interest. "So your name really wasn't Smith."
"Elec Man."
"Proto Man."
They regarded each other in silent fascination for a moment, for neither had met an android like the other before, closer to being peers than either had originally thought conceivable.
Elec Man switched to business. He noticed Proto Man was struggling to get up, the effects of the first attack wearing off, and shocked him with a second Thunder Beam. Proto Man fell back down, the end of his scarf twisting beneath him as he writhed. Though Proto Man's human face showed pain, his amber eyes wide and his teeth gnashed, Elec Man felt the same level of concern as he did with any other robot. This was just professional procedure for an enemy of the Syndicate, nothing personal.
"That's…unnecessary," Proto Man gasped after a moment in a ragged voice, still wincing. "Where's your boss?"
"Not here. This is just one of many Syndicate-controlled offices," Elec Man explained. "Working at the front desk…I am in plain sight, yet invisible. I can watch all the humans and robots coming in and out, monitor their actions, make evaluations, eliminate liabilities, yet they pay no real attention to me. I thought you were just another thrill-seeking petty thief, too small to be a threat, too stupid to last long among real criminals. Yet, you're really a military-grade combat robot, the show-off who's been causing so much trouble over the last two months." The one they call the Red Raider. "If it weren't for the self-destructive steak in your programming, I'd classify you as exceptionally dangerous."
It felt good to say all of this, yet Proto Man ignored the jabs.
"Hey, I know we haven't been on the best of terms, but I honestly had no clue you weren't human. Let's start over and talk about this, bot-to-bot."
Still so naive. A warm arc of electricity climbed between Elec Man's fingers.
"Bargaining or pleas for mercy will not work on me, so don't waste my time. Who built you? What's your purpose? Are there more of you?"
"Dr. Wily, to commit the biggest crimes in history, and yes."
"Don't lie."
Elec Man let the electrical arc leap from his fingers into Proto Man's chest, causing him to jerk violently, then spoke in a warning hiss.
"No robot has ever fooled me when impersonating a human, only Syndicate androids like me can pass that well. Your creator must be very talented to create an android and combat robot of the same caliber as one of us, but they can't be Wily."
Proto Man wouldn't answer him, a determined gleam in his eyes.
This wouldn't do. Elec Man flicked his wrist, another delicate string of electricity zapping Proto Man.
"I can probably guess," Elec Man added while Proto Man shouted and writhed pathetically again with his eyes squeezed shut, "Or I can torture you until your guidance system fails and you tell me everything like an off-the-shelf drone."
Proto Man's eyes cracked open, and he peered up at Elec Man. "Is that what happened to that pushy gangster?"
"Each case is different, and I had my orders."
Elec Man began to move his hands slowly towards Proto Man's head, brief forks of electricity leaping from palm to palm. If Proto Man wouldn't answer Elec Man's questions, no problem, there were other ways…Elec Man's creator would see to that.
"Most robots cannot withstand a Thunder Beam for very long," he said aloud as Proto Man went still, "—But if you're lucky, my creator may think you're useful enough to salvage, and next time you're powered on, you'll obey a new boss."
Proto Man's situation was almost pitiable. He had been gaining fame for being unbeatable, yet Thunder Beam had unfairly taken him down just as easily as a robot with no fighting skills. Of course, being a robot made Proto Man no less stupid for the stunt he had pulled with the Syndicate. As a human civilian, Proto Man had been tolerated as no more than a nuisance—but as as a criminal robot, Proto Man had become valuable—perfectly within criminal code to recruit.
Elec Man was fairly certain Proto Man would survive a direct continuous current of Thunder Beam—he was constructed too well not to. If Elec Man was wrong, too bad. But if he was right, well…he was looking forward to getting to know Proto Man better…
But before Elec Man's hands reached Proto Man's helmet, he was stopped short. Proto Man had grabbed his wrist. A futile attempt to thwart the inevitable—
Dizziness clouded Elec Man's mind. His energy levels dropped, and the electricity that had been crackling fiercely died like an arc lamp that had been abruptly shut off.
Elec Man pulled away from Proto Man, shaking his head, but an inexplicable feeling of weakness persisted. What was happening to him?
His question was soon answered as the familiar crackle of electricity returned, but not from his own hand—
Proto Man sat up with a smirk. "Nice try, but I think I'll continue being my own boss."
Elec Man froze, incredulously watching his own weapon energy dancing between the fingers of Proto Man's red glove, then made a graceless dash toward the door—
White light filled his vision as pain like he had never experienced before shot through every limb. Elec Man shouted as he fell backward, knocked down by the same weapon that he had knocked down others with so many times before. The Thunder Beam burned through his wires, scorching every inch of him, and he lay helpless on the floor, unable to move.
Proto Man knelt next to Elec Man, his helmet replaced and a smile back on his face.
"Can't let you run away to any Syndicate pals and spill all my secrets…Now, what was it you were saying just a minute ago? That you'd shock me until my guidance system gave out, and if I was lucky, I'd be reprogrammed, right?" Electricity crackled briefly from Proto Man's fingers. "That's cold, Elec Man. Well, you know what they say: better you than me."
Elec Man glared up into the mirrored visor as Proto Man's palms covered his ear receptors. His reflection looked defiant, yet hopelessly defeated.
"Sorry, this is going to hurt a lot…I know from experience."
For a moment, Elec Man felt remorse for how he had disregarded Pharaoh Man's warnings, remorse for not reporting the human civilian in the first place, remorse for getting caught, remorse for being overconfident—
But these thoughts disappeared in a blinding flash, his memories following soon after.