Chapter 10
Somewhere in the Appalachian mountains
September 28, 2049
BZZT! ZOWOWOW!
PJ emerged from the teleporter and found himself in a windowless, concrete room. The lone fluorescent light overhead tepidly threw the multitude of storage containers, steel drums, and wooden crates scattered about in mild relief. Somewhere out in the unseen, a soft and steady drip, drip, drip of water could be heard echoing throughout the chamber.
"Welcome back, Senator Cash," a cool, artificial voice said. PJ jumped behind the nearest crate, but nobody was there. Then he realized it came from the teleporter itself; must have been the computer.
He started making his way forward. The room was a cul-de-sac, around twenty-five yards in diameter, with a dead end at the portal behind him and the only door straight ahead. PJ made his way towards the door, but as he was reaching out to grab the handle, he paused and listened when he thought he heard something from the other side.
"Yeah, we'll get him," he heard a burly male voice say. "We'll get him, good." It was unnervingly close. PJ quickly dove behind another storage crate just in time, right as the door burst open from the outside. Heavy, loud footsteps, belonging to a multitude of people, filled the room.
"The platypus is here, all right," another deep voice pointed out. "The portal is still glowing. Sounds like Suzy was right."
"Okay, we spread out, we find him!"
"Here, platypus, platypus, platypus, platypus…"
By this point, PJ had scurried behind a shelf loaded full of cardboard boxes in the shadows on the outskirts of the room. Peeking out from his hiding spot, he counted at least ten men, all armed with automatic rifles, start to fan out and search the room. The last man in barricaded the door with a plank of wood before joining them. He was trapped.
His heart was hammering. One of the guards was coming directly for him. PJ forced himself to take a deep breath and hold it while he ducked behind a box, carefully tucking in his tail so it didn't give him away. Footstep after footstep, the guard slowly traipsed along, until he was past, and PJ softly exhaled.
He remained there for a minute or so, while the guards slowly finished their first sweep of the room.
"Where is he?"
"He's gotta be in here somewhere! Look harder!"
"Do you think he's wearing an invisibility box?"
"Suzy said the EMP would have knocked out all his gadgets. He's a sitting duck!"
Just then, a loudspeaker near the ceiling flared noisily, and PJ instantly recognized Suzy's voice. "Have you bunch of useless lowlifes found him yet?"
"Not yet, uh, ma'am!" one of the guards replied.
"Well, keep looking!" Her voice turned from deadly to honey. "PJ, I know you can hear this! Why don't you just give up already! Can't you see? We know your every move, down to the last detail! So be a dear, won't you, and just let one of my men shoot you in the head. Please? Pretty please, with a cherry on top?"
PJ plugged his ears to resist her hypnotism, and fortunately, the PA system went silent after that. However, the sound of Suzy's voice reignited the fire in his resolve, and he looked around to try to make a plan. He started by checking what was inside the cardboard box he was hiding behind, and when he realized what he'd found, he couldn't believe his good luck.
"Hey, what are you doing?" one of the guards said.
"With a cherry, huh? Alright, I'll do it, Suzy…"
"No, you idiot! She meant the platypus! Not us! We're not supposed to shoot ourselves in the head! Snap out of it!"
The hypnotized guard had to hit himself upside the head to clear it. "Oh, man, you're right! What was I thinking?"
"C'mon, man! Get your head in the game! Don't let her get to you with her mind tricks!"
"Hey, you two! Quit yer yammerin' and get back to searchin'!"
It was a little big for him, but he'd manage. The box PJ had checked contained two sets of night vision goggles. He tightened the strap and tilted one of the goggles up onto his forehead, then looked up, realizing he needed to kill the light for them to be effective. He dug into the box for the other set of goggles before checking to make sure he wouldn't be spotted, cocked, and threw the headpiece far across the room.
It shattered loudly when it hit the floor, and the head of every guard turned to look in that direction, away from PJ.
"Huh? What was that?" one of them shouted.
"Let's check it out!"
PJ quickly climbed the shelves like a ladder and mounted the top of the case. From there, he leapt onto a stack of wooden crates and pulled himself higher. The hanging fluorescent lights were dangling in the space just above him, and slightly offset from the crate he stood on. He would have to jump for it.
Taking a moment to gauge the height and calculate his momentum, he took a couple of steps and jumped, reaching out for the ledge.
"It's a broken set of night vision goggles," the guard who was closest announced once he found the mess. "Do you think it fell off of something?"
"I don't know, man, it could've been him."
"What would a platypus use night vision goggles for?"
This, PJ thought, hanging from the fixture, as he yanked the bulb out, flooding the room in darkness.
"Whoa! Hey, who turned off the lights?"
The bulb burned his fingers, causing him to reflexively drop it. The glass shattered upon impact with the concrete floor.
"He's messin' with the lights!" shouted one of the guards. "Shoot him!"
PJ dropped to the floor as the room exploded in gunfire. While it wasn't totally dark due to the glowing lights emanating from the teleporter, it was difficult to see anything that wasn't immediately basking in the glow. He pulled down the goggles and slipped into the shadows.
After ten seconds, the gunfire stopped. "Do you think we got him?"
"I don't know, I can't see diddly squat in here."
"I'll go look for a body."
One of the guards crept toward the center of the room. After stepping out of the way of the portal to let the light shine on the broken glass, he kneeled down to look closer. "I don't see―!"
A few seconds passed without him finishing his sentence. "What's going on over there?" someone asked. Two more guards had approached the center of the room by now.
"Oh, crud!" one shouted. "Hey everyone, get over here! This guy's out cold!"
"Huh?"
The rest of the group converged on him. "Oh, man, what happened to him?"
"He looks like he got hit by a truck!"
"The platypus is trying to scare us! What's the matter, too scared to come out and face us, chicken?"
From his vantage point on a double-stacked pile of crates, PJ watched them slowly start to disperse and restart their search. Three were going right. Two were going left. Two more headed towards the other end of the room, away from PJ, and two more started creeping his way. He lowered the goggles back down and looked for a point he could ambush them.
There was an aisle between the storage shelves and a stack of drum barrels that they were moving towards. PJ leapt from his vantage point to the far side of the barrels to double back behind them once they passed. He crouched down and waited, peeking through the gaps in the barrels to see when they were far enough along. Once he was certain he was behind them, he crawled to the corner and took a peek. They were moving single file, facing away from him. He crept up and pounced on the rear guard, landing on his shoulders so PJ could squeeze his legs around the man's neck, choking him out, while grabbing his rifle out of his hands to make sure he didn't fire it. Unable to make a sound, the man quickly lost consciousness, and PJ leapt off his shoulders, taking with him the guard's rifle, as his body collapsed to the floor.
The noise made the other guard turn around and look. PJ swung the rifle at his head with a thunk, knocking him out. His rifle clattered to the floor.
"Did you hear that?"
PJ dropped the rifle, since it was too big for him to shoot with anyways and very heavy, to scamper back into the shadows before anyone came to investigate.
Within seconds, four other guards had converged on the two unconscious bodies. "He did it again! How's he doing this?"
"I don't know, I thought he was just a platypus! They don't get big, or anything, do they?"
"I don't think so."
Suzy's voice erupted from the rafters. "Did I hear correctly that he's already taken three of you out? And not in a nice, dinner and a movie, kind of way!"
"We're sorry, Miss Johnson!"
"Sorry doesn't cut the cake! What do I have to do to get you to kill him already? Double the reward money? Triple it? Get back to work, and find that platypus!"
"You heard the lady! Spread out, search every nook and cranny!"
And then there were seven, PJ thought smugly.
Continuing with his plan to take them out one by one, PJ scanned the room with his goggles to locate the most isolated guard. He picked the best one, and zig-zagged his way through cover to get closer. The man had picked an empty aisle lined by storage crates on both sides. PJ climbed the tallest stack of crates so that he was waiting overhead as he passed down under him. Waiting until he was directly below, PJ then leaned forward, using his weight to throw the whole pile off-balance. It teetered, and the movement caused the guard to look up, but it was too late. PJ leapt from the stack as it fell and buried the guard.
"What was that?"
"Another one of the platypus' tricks?"
"Is everyone okay?"
"Forget this! It's every man for himself!"
"Keep it together! He wants you to get scared!"
"Well it's working!"
PJ picked out the voice that just spoke to go for next. That guard had backed himself against the left-hand side wall, cornering himself. PJ easily snuck up on him, because the man spent more time checking over his shoulder than he did actually looking where he was going. As soon as he was ducked in cover just a few feet away from the man's ankles, PJ waited for him to glance over his shoulder again, timing it just right. The moment he did, PJ swept out from his cover and used his favorite takedown move, sliding between the man's legs while grabbing his ankle, throwing his feet out from under him. The guard splatted against the hard floor, and PJ was already on top of him, quickly pounding his head into the ground to knock him out like the others.
One of the guards had heard him, and PJ dove back into hiding as he came running to see what happened. The machine separating PJ and the guard appeared to be a small crane, probably for use in moving things around in this storage room. The crane's big, iron hook dangled motionlessly about twelve feet in the air, giving him an idea. He looked for the control panel as the guard found the unconscious body of his comrade.
"Oh no, not good! Hey everyone, he took out another!"
By some cartoonish good luck, the guard was standing directly below the crane's hook. PJ found the lever holding the chain lock and pulled it. The hook dropped in free-fall, clunking the guard on the head and knocking him out, too. The crane automatically started reeling back in the chain under its own power, and somehow, the hook caught the guard by his belt, pulling him up into the air. When he eventually came back around, he was going to be waking up to a nasty wedgie.
Suzy fired up the intercoms again. "All right, who's still left in there? Anyone?"
"Me."
"I'm here."
"Me too."
"And me."
"Really? There's still four of you left? C'mon, PJ, hurry up and finish them off already, so you can go and spring my next trap! Haha ha ha!"
"She-she didn't mean that, right?"
"Hey, clam it, or we're dead, you hear me?!"
"Yeah, man, we still got this! There's still four of us, and only one a' him!"
"Yeah, but there used to be ten of us and only one a' him!"
"Ooh, look who can do math, now!"
"Listen, quit your whinin', think positive. My life coach always used to say nothing is impossible if you have a positive attitude about―hrmf!"
"Huh? You still there?"
"..."
"Oh no, not you too!"
"Where are you, platypus? This has gone far enough!" Bang! Bang! Bang! The thug began shooting into the darkness.
"Yeah, come out here and show yourself!" Bang! Bang! Bang!
After the gunshots ended and everyone paused to listen, one said, "You think we got 'im that time?"
"I don't know…"
"Argghhh!"
"Who's screaming?"
"Hey, look up there! How'd he get up there?" The henchman in question was dangling by his heel from the ceiling.
"Help, quick! Cut me down!"
"Are you crazy? Look how high up there you are! You really want us to cut you down?"
"Ugh, no. You're right, it can wait."
"Flip, I can't do this, man, I can't do this! I'm getting out of here!"
"You're leaving? Hey, wait for me!"
The remaining two henchmen ran for the door, unbolted the barricade, and skedaddled. The door opened to a small, lit hallway with a single elevator. The first grunt punched the call button and trained his weapon on the door.
"We'll be back, you filthy platypus, you hear? You'll pay for this!"
BOOM!
An explosion from somewhere above rocked the room, causing everything to rattle. The sound of wrenching metal raked their ears, then the elevator careened down the shaft and shattered upon hitting the ground, punching a hole in the door and kicking up a cloud of dirt.
PJ didn't hear any more sounds after that.
After a minute, the dust settled, and he carefully made his way to the exit and looked at the carnage. The two henchmen were dead, pierced by shrapnel from the elevator cage. The loudspeakers flared up again, breaking the silence.
"Looks like those fools ruined the trap I set for you, PJ," Suzy cooed. "Oh well. With the elevator down, I guess that means you're stuck down there. Too bad, so sad; I'll send somebody to come fetch your body in a few weeks."
PJ had come too far to give up. He climbed through the wreckage to get to the elevator shaft and looked up into the dark space overhead. The night vision goggles he wore gave him a clear picture of the cut stone, the ascending beams of wood that were progressing into the beginning stages of rot, and the remnants of iron scaffolding that had supported the elevator. He really wished he still had his grappling gun, as that would have made this a lot easier. Huffing, he began to climb.
After prying open the sliding door and emerging from the top of the shaft, PJ found himself at the end of an isolated, poorly lit hallway. He snuck along the corridor, listening for any signs of more Conspirium guards, but it was very quiet. Not far down the hall, the space opened to his left into a vacant parlor. Empty chairs and tables were strewn about. There was a bar at the far end, across from which a couple of luxurious couches were laid, close to the exit. After confirming there were no signs of movement, PJ headed for the door and pushed.
Outside, the harsh rays of the sun forced him to blink and wait for his eyes to adjust. A grassy green landscape of trees and shrubs dominated the immediate scenery before him, partially obscuring the view of the valley below. The fresh, leafy smell of the outdoors greeted his nostrils, orienting him to his natural surroundings. He could feel more than see the incline in elevation as the ground swelled in the direction of the building he had teleported to, and continued to rise beyond it.
A dirt road led from where he stood down into the valley in that direction. In the opposite direction, it circled past this first building to continue climbing up the hill towards a half-dozen other concrete structures, looming over the thinning trees further up the mountain. He couldn't spot any activity from here, so he started walking. The hill was somewhat steep, but not too taxing compared to having just climbed an elevator shaft. Otherwise, the dirt road made the trek easy enough.
He had been hiking up the path for perhaps five minutes when he heard a car engine catching up on his rear. PJ quickly hid in the foliage as an armored jeep rounded a bend into view, rolling amicably through the brush. It passed him at a reasonably low speed as the road was narrow and there were lots of small tree branches in the way. The moment the jeep was past him, PJ jumped onto the spare wheel hanging from the back end, ducking to keep out of the driver's sights. There he stayed, hitchhiking the rest of the way up the mountain path.
They reached the clearing for the Command Center in no time. The other buildings were clustered much closely together than the one he had come from. Huddled together like they were their own small industrial district, they were nestled in a flat area where the ground became paved. Sticking to his cover behind the jeep, PJ scanned the area. The compound was fortified by a perimeter of chain-link fence topped with barbed wire, the only gate being, so far as he could tell, the front one. He could see quite a few vehicles inside, including some outfitted for the military. There was lots of movement on the ground, with dozens of armed guards keenly watching from their posts. When he glanced at the sky, he could make out the silhouette of a security drone, resembling the visage of an eagle or hawk to the untrained eye, circling directly above the compound. As he observed, one steel building in the back of the compound stood out as the biggest, most high-tech of the bunch. If he had to guess, that one was the Command Center. The only question was, how to get there?
The jeep rumbled up to the gate and stopped, where it was shortly met by two armed guards. PJ ducked again as the driver produced his identification and papers.
"Just delivering the last order of backup electric parts," the driver yawned.
"Hold on one moment," one of the guards said as he returned the paperwork to its owner. "We're on extra high alert right now. Suzy just issued a warning that The Platypus will be attempting to infiltrate the compound soon. Can you step out of the vehicle while we take a closer look?"
"S'pose I might as well," the driver said, lazily stretching as he exited the jeep.
The guards circled the jeep, inspecting every nook and cranny. PJ, who by this point had scurried underneath the jeep to latch on by the undercarriage, watched their big, black combat boots crunch the gravel beside him.
Finally, the boots turned around to march back to their post. "All clear," the guard said. "Open the gate!"
The jeep pulled into the compound and meandered over to park in a shady spot. When the driver killed the ignition and opened his door to get out, PJ was already standing in the way, whereupon he proceeded to kick it back in on the man, clobbering him in the head and knocking him out.
Five minutes later, with the driver still out cold and tied up in only his underwear in the back of the jeep, PJ was wearing his button-up military uniform shirt, visor, key card, and belt. He looked himself over. "Oh, who am I kidding, this disguise is never going to work," he whispered out loud. The pants were too big to even bother trying to wear, and the steel-toe boots were out of the question. The flaps at the bottom of the shirt were freely dangling, which looked outrageously sloppy; meanwhile, his tail stuck out in the back. His camo hat kind of concealed his face if he pulled the visor down, but did nothing to help disguise his duck-like beak.
Just when he was about to tear the whole disguise off and think of something else, a voice yelled, "Hey, aren't you the delivery guy? We've been waiting all afternoon for the replacement spark plugs and batteries so we can get the rest of the trucks back up and running! So hurry it up, will ya?"
PJ froze and stared at the guard who discovered him.
"Say, aren't you a little short to be a delivery driver?" the man asked, skeptically.
Frantic, PJ stuttered. "Uh, well, y-you know what they s-say, the shorter the d-delivery driver, the―um, you know… The less gas mileage it takes. Right. You know, b-because he's lighter?" He held up his arms in a hopeful shrug.
"Oh, yeah, I guess that makes sense," the guard said. PJ exhaled in relief.
"Well, I gotta go to the bathroom," PJ forced himself to continue in what he hoped was a convincing act. "Long drive, you know. But don't open the jeep until I get back," he added when the guard reached for the handle to the backseat door, "because―the AC's out, and it's really hot in there, so I wouldn't want you to have to deal with that." PJ pushed him away by the kneecaps. He was inwardly cringing at how bad he was at lying, but it seemed to work, as the guard began walking away.
With that problem taken care of, he strolled in what he believed to be an amiable gait away from his parking spot and headed straight for the Command Center. Despite his nervousness, the other guards didn't give him a second glance. It was almost too easy. How do people still fall for this, he thought. And they call themselves the dominant species on the planet.
His bravado was short lived, however, for when he swiped his card key across the outdoor security panel, it failed to give him access to the Command Center. He gave it a few more tries, to no avail. Now stuck, standing conspicuously at the sliding glass entrance, he had no idea what to do next. He took a few steps back for a look at the bigger picture. Perhaps there was a way he could sneak in, like he had back at the Conspirium's teleportation tower. Before he could get a good look, he noticed a bit of movement in the direction he had come from. A few of the guards were running towards the jeep he'd snuck in by, rifles drawn. He turned to walk in the other direction, hoping he wouldn't be noticed.
"Hey, look! There he is!"
"It's The Platypus! Get him!"
PJ glanced over his shoulder to see one of the guards pointing his rifle his way, heard a gunshot crack, and felt something whiz by his ear. He broke into a run for the next closest building, kitty-corner to the Command Center. More bullets nicked the ground at his feet. He heard someone shout, "Don't let him get away!" as he sprinted for the front door. It didn't have a security panel out front, but if it was locked from the inside, he was done for. Bounding the last few steps, he yanked the handle, and was relieved to find the door swing open for him. He leaped inside and slammed the door shut, bolting the lock just before a few more bullets ripped into the doorframe.
Taking deep breaths, he turned to meet the gaze of a handful of men and women in lab coats, most of which were holding clipboards and looking like they had been in the act of monitoring all the electronic equipment occupying the room moments before. They all seemed just as stunned as he was.
"Um, hi," PJ said with his back bracing the door, looking for an escape route.
One of the scientists stepped forward. "And who are you who comes barging into our workspace while being shot at?" He had deep lines etched in the sneer on his face, was bald and bespectacled, and had a unique accent that PJ couldn't place at all. Sighing, the platypus shrugged out of the shirt and hat disguise he was wearing.
"PJ the Platypus!" Every scientist in the room shrieked in unison.
"Huh, I should have known Suzy would have LOVEMUFFIN working for her too," PJ reminisced aloud.
"Get him!" shouted the one with the strange accent. "We'll capture him and offer him as a gift to Suzy, or my name isn't Orville Aloyse Everheart―hey!" He pulled the shirt PJ threw at him off from over his face, and looked to see the platypus had disappeared down the hall. "After him!" he commanded, and the other evil scientists obediently extracted various evil sciencey-looking weapons from their lab coat pockets and gave chase.
BAM! The door was kicked open by the guards outside. "Outta the way, freaks!" one shouted, attempting to push his way through the evil scientists.
PJ raced past the first room through a set of double-steel doors that took him to a sort of factory floor. The large space had conveyor belts running all throughout it, connecting the dots of haphazardly placed machines, grinding gears and belching out cardboard boxes. PJ climbed a short flight of stairs onto the catwalk above and sprinted down the narrow metal walkway, pushing anybody in his path out of the way. He reached a corner and turned, only to find a couple of evil scientists blocking his path. They leveled their ray guns in his direction, ready to fire. He jumped from the catwalk, narrowly dodging two green laser beams, and landed on one of the conveyor belts.
At that moment, a metal arm reached out from the space above him. PJ reacted just in time, rolling out of the way, and the robotic hand scooped up nothing. Looking up, PJ saw the arm was connected to a humanoid robotic exoskeleton. The robot's face looked like a grinning human skull with glowing red eyes.
The leader of the evil scientists, Orville, shrieked, "Terminate the platypus, my robotic terminizor!" The robot raised a fist, and PJ dove out of the way to avoid being smashed as it brought it down on the conveyor belt, leaving a small impact crater.
PJ tried to run in the other direction, but was cut off by several laser blasts sparking in front of him. He turned around and slipped through the robot's legs, barely avoiding its hands which tried to grab him. The robot chased him through the foundry floor, occasionally getting hit by lasers, which didn't seem to do any damage to its exoskeleton. PJ weaved through the maze of conveyor belts, the robot right on his tail every step of the way.
Seeing a gap in a handrail too small for the robot to fit through, PJ dove between the bars and crawled to a small space blocked off by a metal grate. The robot tried to reach through the bars for him, but the best it could do was scrape the ground just inches away from his huddled body. Looking up, PJ discovered that the handrail blocked off access to a hydraulic press. The robot was wiggling its way through the bars, inching closer to him, bending the steel bit by bit to reach further. PJ reached his hand through the metal grate, trying to find the button to activate the press.
The robot's cold, mechanical hands were starting to brush against his skin. PJ squished himself against the grate, reaching with all his might for the button. Just as the robot grasped his ankle, PJ pressed it, activating the hydraulic press. A warning buzzer went off, and the robot looked up in time to see the hydraulic press come crushing down on its chromium-coated body, compressing it to mush. All that remained was the robot's outstretched arm, hand wrapped around PJ's foot. He kicked it away and rolled out of the gap.
Picking a new path, he climbed back onto the nearest conveyor belt, running in the same direction as it was moving, to pick up speed. He sprang over the cardboard boxes like stepping stones, while more bursts of light sprayed around him from the laserfire. One hit so close that the cardboard box he'd just leapt from burst into flames behind him. The conveyor belt was taking him to a portal draped in translucent plastic strips. He slid through the chute and into cover.
"He's headed to the packaging room! Let's cut him off!" someone could be heard shouting. PJ didn't have time to think about that before he was plopped onto a sliding gurney, along with the surrounding cardboard boxes. He slid and fell onto a pile of such boxes, breaking his fall. He quickly brushed himself off and got up to continue running when something caught his eye. In the next pile over, each box had a distinct label stamped on the cover with big, bold, red lettering: TNT.
"I found him! He's this way!"
PJ looked over his shoulder and confirmed he'd been spotted. Wasting no time, he dropped what he was doing and ducked behind cover, barely making it before the guard's bullets nicked the handrail. He was back above the factory floor, now running along the catwalks in the direction of the entrance. His webbed feet pounded on the metal, grid-patterned walkway. As more bullets and lasers showered the handrails around him, PJ blessed his luck, for his stout height meant that the guards on the other catwalks didn't have a clear shot. Instead, the bullets and lasers passed harmlessly by over his head as he took the front staircase three steps at a time, and with that, he made it to the double-door entrance and sped through to the small laboratory. Out the front door he sprang, into the open, not knowing whether he should expect more resistance or not. He simply charged ahead with his head down, dropping the detonator he had just activated.
The charges in the explosives he had planted inside the foundry ignited, and a quick succession of booming concussions and flashes of light rippled through the factory.
You blow up my people, Suzy, and I blow up yours.
It wasn't as large a fireball as he'd expected, as he'd only had time to place a couple of C-4 packets, and the factory was expansive. A couple of holes were ripped in the roof, but the structure still stood, fairly recognizable. He wasn't even blasted off his feet by the shockwave. The handful of guards that had spotted him outside, however, were caught off guard by the explosions. Rather than send him another volley, they raised their arms to shield themselves from the blast, allowing him a chance to escape. PJ sped back in the direction of the Command Center, diving into a hedge bush near the entrance to hide.
Dozens of more personnel were flooding into the courtyard now, from every building, curious about the explosions. Mostly more guards, but a few nonmilitary persons as well. As the central gathering space filled, the onlookers rushed to help as the foundry erupted in a spectacular maelstrom of fire such that PJ could feel the heat from this distance. A fire must have reached the remaining explosives, and it rocked the valley in another concussive shockwave. When PJ was able to open his eyes again, all he saw that remained of the structure was smoke and rubble.
His poking may have sent the hornets' nest into a massive frenzy, but PJ felt immensely satisfied seeing the looks of distraught on every Conspirium face. The people frantically ran about, and in the pandemonium, he was able to sneak up to the sliding door panel entrance of the Command Center. A band of guards were rushing out, which failed to notice him, and once he had waited for the last of them to pass by, he slipped inside as the door panel slid shut behind him.
He was in. If Suzy and Konig and some way to disarm the bomb back in Washington were anywhere, they were here. He was sure of it.
He was standing in the foyer of a vast and luxurious lobby that could rival any of the finest hotels in the world. All the furniture, carpets, the high ceilings and chandeliers, the adornments and paintings, were all clearly the best money could buy. This wasn't what he had expected of a command post or HQ. It was more the type of place the ultra rich would go for a vacation. It reminded him of some of the fancy meeting halls he'd visited, where the President would meet with foriegn dignitaries, while he had been in the Secret Service.
It appeared that he was alone here, so PJ advanced warily through the front hall. As if on cue, a gigantic television screen taking up most of the wall to his immediate left lit up at his presence, catching his attention. He glanced at the picture and instantly recognized the image: a bird's eye view of Washington D.C. Holding his gaze, a timer in the corner of the screen ticked away the seconds.
7:59:58 pm...
7:59:59 pm...
8:00:00 pm...
A flash of white light engulfed the screen, and a second later, the feed died into nothing but a blizzard of static.
"NO!"
PJ put his hands up against the screen and stared blankly at the field of white noise. Letting his eyes drop to the floor, his face scrunched up in pain, he balled his fists and pounded on the plastic cover. The weight of the world depressed on his shoulders all at once, and he fell to his knees. It was over.
"Ahahahaha!"
A flipboard behind the wall rotated the TV screen away from PJ and replaced it with a normal wall. Recognizing that laugh, his gaze lifted up to see none other than his great archnemesis, Suzy Johnson, standing above him, in the flesh.
"Oh my, come to beg from me, have you, PJ?" Her eyes gleamed behind that plastic smile. "Very well, if you prostrate yourself before me and renounce the United States, and dedicate yourself to the Conspirium and The King, I might listen."
Blood boiling, PJ climbed to his feet and took a defensive stance. "Never."
Suzy could see the anger gushing from his bloodthirsty eyes. "Now now," she said, "you aren't angry about that footage, are you? Because you can relax, the bomb hasn't gone off yet. That was only a recording from the future."
Inwardly, PJ sighed with relief, but Suzy pulling a stunt like that only made him more angry. "You'll pay for that!" he seethed through gritted teeth. "No more games! It's just you and me!" With that, he lowered his stance and prepared to attack.
Suzy didn't even flinch. "But don't you want to know who the mole on your little task force was?" She tilted her head and grinned when PJ froze in his tracks.
"What did you just?―no, don't fall for it," he chided himself, shaking his head.
"Oho, that's right! You didn't know one of your own team members was working for me the whole time, did you? Tehehe!"
PJ strained with himself, willing himself to charge. But he couldn't move. Suzy's voice kept echoing in his mind, drowning out his rational thought.
"That's right. The one who activated the bomb that killed them all was―"
"ENOUGH!" PJ fought through the haze that was filling his mind and focused on the rage instead. He launched himself at Suzy, who looked stunned that he'd overcome her full hypnotic powers.
"Impossible!"
She reacted too late; PJ connected with his strike, sending her flying backwards. PJ landed and moved to stand over her. She was out cold. At last, her voice stopped reverberating inside his head. A wave of fatigue flooded over him, and he stooped over, hands on his knees, to catch his breath.
Once he recovered, he borrowed a few velvet ropes from the stanchions corralling the walkways to tie her up with, ripping a strip of cloth from her sleeve to gag her. He checked her pockets and confiscated her security key card as well as anything else she might try to use to escape when she awoke. Next, he hid her in a closet and locked it with the key card. That just left Konig and the bomb.
There was a cramped security desk in the corner of the lobby, and PJ checked its computer files to see if he could use it to locate Konig. Logging on via Suzy's key card, he culled through the data and quickly learned that Suzy's and Konig's rooms were the only ones that were not under surveillance. PJ pulled up the floorplan and looked up the location of The King's room. After quickly memorizing it, he next used Suzy's key card to activate the system's security measures, locking down the building. Now, if Konig was here, he couldn't get out, and none of the guards that were still outside fighting the factory fire could get in.
With that, PJ proceeded to the elevator and took it to the top floor.
How does he keep managing to do this? How?
The King swiped his key card across the hidden security panel and entered the secret escape passage located in the back of his private room.
The platypus had proven to be a more dangerous enemy than he could have ever imagined. Nothing short of throwing a whole army at him would stop him. How could it be that with over sixty armed men on guard duty, they still didn't have the numbers here at the compound to deal with a single animal?
Because so much of the Conspirium was currently stationed across the nation at Conspirium Towers, the cult was spread too thin. There was simply nobody left to beef up their security any further. And they couldn't wait any longer for more growth, the timeline could only be altered here. There was no other choice.
Reaching the base of the spiral staircase, The King allowed a gentle sigh to escape him. It had taken innumerable iterations to plan everything out. He was so tired from all the time travel, reliving the same day again and again and again, struggling to keep the facts straight each time they tweaked one little part in history. The platypus had truly been a nightmare, obstructing him every step of the way.
Above him, The King heard the click of a lock being picked. A shaft of light could be seen in the dark space capping the spiraling steps. "Konig!" The platypus called his former name. "I've finally found you!"
The man who knew he was destined to rule over all pushed open his hidden backdoor, escaping the compound. Once again, the familiar race up the mountainside was on.
The King battered his way up the overgrown path, and the platypus followed, hot on his trail. A dense patch of thick, green brush with nasty thorns caught at his robes, flaying the expensive gold threads, slowing his movement. He braced against the snag and tugged himself free, tearing his cloak in the process. Onwards he rushed, willing himself to go faster.
Pine trees were everywhere, tall and mighty evergreens that blanketed the steep mountain banks. If his long legs were an advantage in flight, it was nullified by the slope he had to climb almost as it were a flight of stairs. Still, the crunching sounds of his pursuer seemed to fall behind. His goal lay just ahead. Only a few more bends in the path to go, if he remembered correctly. He was close, so close to reaching it―
The King burst into a small clearing. The grove of pine trees on the far side towered into the sky. He whipped around, still panting heavily, drawing his Glock. The platypus had to be close. Squinting down the sights, The King scanned for any signs of movement.
The platypus darted around the final bend and into view. The King pulled the trigger, flinching as the hammer slammed down on the barrel. He had always been repulsed by the weight of the weapon and by the dirty work of killing things himself, and his lack of training showed. He missed his mark, allowing the platypus to dive behind the cover of a big pine trunk at the edge of the clearing, quite unharmed.
Keeping the gun aimed at the base of the tree, The King backed away slowly. The platypus peeked around the left side of the trunk. He fired two more bullets into the tree to force it to retreat again behind it.
"You know, usually, this is the part where the bad guy starts to monologue," the platypus said. "Telling me about their evil plan, about how their tragic backstory set them on a path inevitably leading them along to this very moment."
The King cautiously took another step back.
The platypus peeked around the tree again. He fired one more round into the tree, but this time the platypus swooped out at unbelievable speed, close to the ground and practically on all fours. The King got off two more rounds before a beaver tail swiped across his hand, slapping the gun out of his grasp and knocking it clear across the grove.
As always, The King was ready for this part. He ducked down and used his long legs to sweep the platypus' webbed feet out from under it, sending it tumbling to the ground. The animal rolled out of reach and quickly regained its feet.
In order for this to work, The King needed to get this next part just right.
"Hold it right there," he commanded, disgusted that he had no other alternative but to stoop so low as to attempt to reason with a beast such as this. "Come another step closer, and I'll break this!" He held out a curious, cylindrically shaped object that looked like a pickle jar. It was, in fact, a device known as a cryptex.
"Why would I care if you did that?" the platypus asked.
"Because this cryptex holds inside it the disarming codes needed to defuse the nuclear bomb in Washington. If it breaks, a vial of hydrochloric acid will destroy the codes."
The animal's eyes narrowed on his outstretched hand. "Give it to me!"
"Humf." The King did not take orders from anyone. "Take a moment to understand the delicacy of this situation, if you can. If you take this from me by force, the glass vial will burst in the struggle. That fact is certain, I used a time machine to witness the outcome. In another outcome, one where I give you this," he shook the cryptex, "when you fail to solve the riddle, you will resort to violence yet again, and the same result will occur."
A grimace crossed the platypus' face. Then, it returned to neutral.
"Go ahead, then. Smash it."
"Huh?" The King gave a confused look. "Okay, I really will do it!"
Walking over to the digital tree that hid the entrance to the Conspirium's underground bunker, known as the Command Center or CCC, The King gently swung the cryptex in a practice attempt before resuming eye contact with the platypus. "Here I go."
"Do it," the platypus said coldly.
With that, The King smashed the cylinder against the tree, letting his palm naturally rest on the biometric scanner in the same motion. He gave a soft chuckle, which rose steadily in volume until it culminated in a guttural laugh that boomed across the meadow.
"You really expect me to fall for a trick like that?" The platypus smiled, confidently. "Suzy just used almost the exact same thing not fifteen minutes ago. Those probably weren't really the codes. And even if they were, you just admitted you have a working time machine. That's all I need to stop you and everything the Conspirium has pulled off today―huh?"
The platypus shot a surprised look at the digital tree, which had just vanished to be replaced by the visage of a tiny shed. The King continued to cackle unapologetically as the door slid open, allowing the soft glow of the interior lights to outline his silhouette. "Haha haha! Thou art the fool! In a contest of battle, you may be able to best me, again and again. But in a duel of intelligence, you could never have stood a chance! Mwahaha! After all, what chance does a stupid animal have of outsmarting a man like me, the one who is destined to be The King?! Fuha haha!"
A dark shadow swept over the face of the platypus. Its body began to shake as it clenched its fists tightly and gritted its teeth. The King felt a powerful aura emanating from its body, unnerving him enough that he halted his laughter.
"DON'T. CALL. ME. A. STUPID. ANIMAL!"
Berserking, the platypus charged at The King, summoning the entirety of his strength in an all out attack. The air immediately surrounding him crackled electrically. The ground trembled under his webbed feet. His warcry sounded through the valley as a rumbling belt of thunder. He dove at The King, all thought of serving country and saving family swept aside by a single, dominating emotion: hate. Coiled and ready to strike, he sailed through the air to smite his foe―
The King casually stepped aside.
Missing his target, the platypus landed hard on a metal staircase and tumbled down its length, end over end, collapsing in a crumpled, bruised heap at the bottom.
"Just as I planned," smirked The King, as he regally paced down the steps.
The platypus painfully struggled below him, trying to get to its feet. Then glancing to its side, it saw the time machine The King had been using for so long to perfect all his plans. In no hurry, he watched the wounded animal limp to the machine, open the door, and clamber in. Slightly bemused, he stared on while the platypus pushed itself to the controls as the door slid shut automatically. Before it could even settle itself into a seat, the time machine popped out of existence.
"At last," breathed The King, in a most dignified manner, "at last, I have fulfilled my destiny. The dream of my forefathers has become a reality!" He reverently approached the portrait of his ancestor, Major John Armstrong, Jr. "There is finally a King in the land, and the legacy of George Washington has been besmirched. The day you always hoped for is here, and your bloodline shall rule for a millennium, great-grandfather." For a moment, he slightly bowed his head.
The maidservants knelt in a single row at the feet of the stairs leading to the throne, their proper place, having not been given a command.
"Your plan to defeat the platypus worked extremely well," The King whispered in Suzy's ear as she humbly prostrated herself at his throne. "It only needed a few iterations to perfect, it was stunningly brilliant."
"Thank you, O King," Suzy said, hiding her face by looking at the floor. How silly of her; even after all these years, she still couldn't stop herself from blushing giddily when he praised her like this.
"For such good work, you are to be rewarded." He took his second-in-command by the hands, raising her to her feet, before dropping himself to one knee. "Suzy Johnson," he raised his voice, "your King is in need of a Queen. Will you do my bidding this last time and fill my new kingdom's most important duty?"
Gasps rang from the other servants at their feet, who lifted their heads in surprise and amazement at this new development. Suzy pretended to be surprised, choosing to act the part even though she knew this was going to happen, having already visited the new future herself.
She composed herself with all the dignity and grace a soon-to-be Queen should have. "Yes," she cried, unable to hold back her tears of joy. "I will! I will do anything you ask of me, my love!"
As an American, this time is, for me, one of thanksgiving, and I just want to say how thankful I am to all of you who are reading! Please enjoy the next installment in a week, and the one after that, as updates will be every weekend from now until the story is finished! That's right, the long waits are over!
In case some of you are interested, this chapter was heavily influenced by a video game I'm particularly fond of - no, not Pokemon, I play other games besides that, you know! Anyways, lots of inspiration for the early parts of the chapter came from the Arkham Batman games. I was also pleased to include an homage to the Terminator movie. I probably don't need to say it, but Under Absolute Despotism shares a lot of plot elements with Terminator. It seemed fitting that I pay my respects somehow to the franchise I copied so inadvertently. And by inadvertently, I mean just that - inadvertently! Really!