The most important thing is first. Well, not more important than getting Luigi home, of course, but since he was already here ...
Mario spat the last remnants of the liquid dirt next to the door, walked towards the nearest manhole cover and poured the contents of his two paper cups into the sewer. He then crumpled these up and stuffed them into his trouser pockets. Jeremiah sat down beside him and looked at him with his head tilted.
"Well, you heard it, boy," Mario said, patting him gently, "We need to get to the harbour master's office at the end of the pier!" Then his gaze wandered away from the direction they had come from in the car, towards the distance.
A dark street stretched before them, lit by only a few lanterns. And even a few of those that still worked were flickering. At that moment, one pegged out with an audible burst, shrouding another part of their upcoming journey in darkness.
A few hairs on the back of his neck stood up and would have pierced his cap had they been of a harder material. He wiped off his forehead. Was that rainwater or sweat? He didn't know, but this street didn't seem trustworthy. Toad Town was universally known as a decent if boring, city. But as soon as the night claimed a corner, even the biggest scum could find refuge in it. For it was only in the dark, unobserved by everyone, that the worse sides of a person dared to emerge.
But he had seen and experienced worse.
Once again he stroked Jeremiah before he told him to follow and they both ran off into uncharted territory.
It was amazing how different the harbour looked at night. The end from their starting point was not fifty metres away, the place was small after all. And yet, without light, proportions seemed to extend into all dimensions, to deform, even to take on threatening shapes. As with Luigi's house, the reality behind the light border seemed alien. Only the lightning and rain reminded him that both worlds still belonged to one and the same.
Ordinary houses towered above Mario and Jeremiah, wanting to topple over and bury them underneath. Deactivated lanterns rose like tentacles from the earth, lingering until the duo had passed them by to reach for them. The sea roared, roiled by the wind. Waves crashed against the quay, tossing the ships about, and some even got over the edges to Mario. Jeremiah frantically jumped to the side each time, but Mario's reaction was limited to closing his eyes to the water. Whatever nature threw at him, he would stand firm. For Luigi, for Jeremiah, the kingdom.
Mario regularly checked on the ghost dog at short intervals. He kept up well and did not attempt to break away. But Mario remained vigilant. If Jeremiah separated from him now, the chaos would have been perfect. Every time the sky unloaded its fury towards the earth, Mario held his collar tightly. The dog flinched but did not try to flee. Had he been able to push his fears aside out of love for Luigi? Or was Mario his pillar of strength? What mattered to him was that he could rely on Jeremiah. Until he got used to the storm, Mario couldn't let him go.
Mario took out his mobile phone and checked the battery power. It had lost quite a bit of energy, but as a torch, it should last for a while. It would be inconvenient if the device ran out of juice at the worst possible moment, like in teenie slashers. But Mario had taken precautions. He wouldn't bite the dust that quickly like a typical horror protagonist. Hopefully. Not being bludgeoned out of a dark corner would still be nice.
After a march that nevertheless felt like a hike despite the short distance, both heroes finally arrived at the end of the harbour, where the piers were empty like the cheap standing room of a theatre. What silently welcomed them there was a crumbling brick building complete with roller shutter.
Mario shone his mobile phone around. Next to a wooden door, however, he only found a sign with information that there was storage space for rent. At least he knew now they were at the wrong address.
Only Jeremiah seemed to disagree. He prepared to jump but was pulled back by Mario at the last second. As long as he wasn't absolutely sure, Jeremiah's detours carried an unnecessary risk. The planned break-in alone had brought Mario to a low point, and if one didn't want to sink even lower, one simply had to stop digging.
Then he walked along the wall, always illuminating the area in front of him. A small anchor to which his reality could cling. Showing how beautiful and friendly the world could be during the day when Mario didn't have to save the princess, a country, the world, or the universe.
They passed another roller shutter, coming with a sign next to the door. For the sake of completion and not to miss any potential clue, Mario stopped to read, even if his expectations were now at rock bottom. And he was to be proved right: another warehouse for rent, even dirtier, even more decrepit than the last one. A symbol of the port's increasing decay, and the future it was slipping into? But Mario had no time for contemplating, and so he pushed Jeremiah and himself further forward.
He didn't even look at the third roller shutter anymore. Surely the harbour master's office would be housed in a small building. It certainly didn't need a warehouse for a bit of paperwork. So he continued on his way, entering an alley between another broken-down hall and a shop for fishing supplies. Could the office wait at the end? It was strange that Mario hadn't found any signposts yet. But presumably, it was exclusively for captains anyway. Nothing for the "common rabble". However, getting lost was about as likely as Wario washing his cap before dying.
Soon, thanks to his torch app, he found himself facing a door. Not a roller shutter for once. Thus, the probability of it not being a warehouse had increased from zero to ninety-nine per cent. Despite the gloomy appearance and the worry that it would suddenly burst open and crooks would drag him off to a dodgy dive, Mario felt that he must be in the right place. Sometimes, one just knew. Especially when one noticed the sign next to the door that read "Toad Town Harbour Master's Office" in unmistakable letters.
"Toad Town Harbour Master's Office!" Mario read off the preceding text delightedly and looked over at Jeremiah with a grin. He immediately jumped up joyfully and panted, but this time dutifully restrained himself from a hasty break-in. He had learned quickly!
Without further ado, Mario grabbed the door handle and pushed it down. His delight vanished as quickly as it had come when the door refused to open. Oh well, could have worked.
This called for a specialist.
"So far, so bad," Mario said, turning to Jeremiah, "Jeremiah?" The ghost barked out and sat up at attention. "That's your job now. Go in there and look for a key. Or anything else that will gain us entry, like a window or even a back door. Do you think you can do that?" Jeremiah grinned broadly, trotted towards the door and jumped through, the surroundings lit up by the white cloud until it vanished a moment later.
Mario pricked up his ears. No noise from his personal locksmith so far. And, please, not from an alarm system. Although, didn't they usually only go off when doors and windows were opened? Did Jeremiah know how to turn them off? Did the harbour master's office even have one? Mario couldn't find any sign on the door or wall that the building was alarmed. On the other hand, he couldn't imagine what a thief would hope to steal in there. Documents on goods movements and ships certainly not. Unless the person was missing someone.
Like Mario.
But that was what the night guards from the tavern were for, as widely known.
Speaking of night guards.
"Fungus!" he uttered and walked back a little. He had forgotten about the Shell Security!
Behind the unlit side of the fishing shop, he pressed himself against the wall and peered around the corner.
No movement at the entrance to the Wet Bandit. Maybe the guards needed to sober up first. But Mario was sure it would not take that long anymore. Jeremiah had to hurry!
That's why he returned to the office and knocked on the door.
"Jeremiah, is this going to take-"
He fell to the floor screaming as Jeremiah poked his head through and smiled at him.
"Mama Mia," Mario said sullenly as he got up and took one deep breath, "My boy, have you found anything?"
Jeremiah opened his mouth. Out tumbled not just a key, but a whole bunch of them, no less than five. What's more, it shone in the light, although this was not from the metal itself – when dark spots formed underneath, Mario was glad he had gloves. But even with them, he had no great desire to touch it. Especially since he didn't know whether Jeremiah had swallowed the thing first and then regurgitated it, or kept it in his mouth "normally".
Nonetheless, he praised Jeremiah for a job well done, grinned as a glowing transparent tongue licked him, and then picked up the bunch. The keys looked almost identical, but fortunately, there were only five. Then he sent Jeremiah back into the building and set about unlocking the door.
Mario put a random key into the hole and immediately moved on to the next one as soon as it locked. Of course, it only worked with the last one. With the bad premonition that he would have to turn the whole office upside down, he entered.
Inside, the first official action was clear: lock the door. No one was supposed to notice that there had been a break-in. It wouldn't stop a night guard for long, but every second counted.
Relieved that there was no alarm system, he locked the entrance and turned to Jeremiah. His faithful companion roamed the small room sniffing, lighting up a small area around him, circling a desk on which stood a CRT monitor, a telephone and a printer. Below that was the heart of the system: a grey computer case. The colour alone gave him an uneasy feeling, but he pushed it aside for the moment.
Even looking around, Mario felt cramped. Every metre of the wall was covered by open shelves and cupboards, which were filled to the brim with files. Possibly all of them were logbooks about ships and cargo.
Mario went to the next shelf and picked out a file. It refused to be removed at first. But violence was, after all, a tried and tested means of solving problems, and so, after ever stronger pulls, he held a file in his hands – which were immediately pulled down. He did not know of a heavier and larger doorstop, and he wondered how much paper could be stuffed in there. But office clerks must have had their tricks.
A cloud of dust came off the object of his desire, triggering a sneeze that only stirred up more dust, and after he had just managed to suppress another fit, he opened the middle of the book. Because the most important information was always in the golden mean. Absolutely logical, and that's why it was not surprising that he found a table there on copy paper that reached all the way to the bottom.
It was a detailed listing of ships, arrival time with date, the purpose of their stay, whether they were taking on or unloading cargo, departure times, and where their next destination was. This information dated back over fifty years – not what he was looking for. Nevertheless, he was undoubtedly on the right track!
After Mario had finished his reading and stuffed the hole with the file again, he searched the shelves for stickers or signs that would lead him to today's date. However, he glanced sideways for a moment, spotting the metres upon metres of cupboards and shelves, and hundreds upon hundreds of files. And on the other side, the same.
An avalanche fell upon him, covering him, and paralysing him with the workload that lay ahead. Was he supposed to sift through all that before the night guards came? Even Jeremiah had finished his search for clues by now and sat down next to the table. The way he looked at Mario, whimpering and the corners of his mouth down, inconclusive to boot. But why should Luigi ever have been here?
No, searching for everything the old-fashioned way would take too long. Instead, Mario decided to make use of a technological milestone.
Computers!
Leaping across the table in a single bound, he swung himself onto the chair and turned the computer on.
Mario's pulse stopped for a split second.
His fear, his second worst nightmare, came true on the very first screen.
Energy Garlic-BIOS, in the top right corner.
And the system counted through the RAM. 1028 in number.
The fact that the port operator didn't have a lot of money for modern equipment was not a problem. But such junk of all things? This should be a crime against humanity! If he could at least throw it out of the window, but no, he had to rely on this pile of scrap.
While Mario rested his head on the tabletop sighing, Jeremiah joined him. He immediately pierced the screen with a hard look, as if he could motivate the machine to work faster. All well and good to Mario, despite doubts about its effectiveness; but what he needed now was his own night guard. One that would sound the alarm should his trained co-workers approach.
"Jeremiah, please be so kind and see if security is coming for a minute, okay? You know, the Koopas with torches and sunglasses." He pointed to the door, which in the darkness spread out to the sides like a gateway to the Underwhere, ready to unleash a flood of monsters at any moment.
Jeremiah let his tongue hang out in a smile and trotted to the entrance.
After that Mario continued to follow the breakneck pace of the system as it raced through the BIOS and then, without any warning at all, presented him with garlic on a garish yellow screen. In combination with the darkened room, it felt really good for his eyes, which is why he pinched them shut and covered them while groaning. Was this bearded clove of garlic laughing at him?
When he had gotten over the pain enough to slowly adjust his eyes to the brightness through his splayed fingers, he heard a deep echoing whisper at the other end of the room.
Followed by a muffled scream.
Alarmed by this, Mario jumped up and caught Jeremiah flinching.
Company.
"Boy, get in here! Quick!"
Instead of hurrying, Jeremiah stepped back slowly as if there was no need to. Then he turned and came towards Mario, smiling. Surely something was wrong!
"Jeremiah? Are you okay?"
He stopped in front of the table, stared at Mario – and toppled over. Afterwards, a glowing red bump grew out of his forehead.
Mario could already hear Luigi's chainsaw roaring.
"Jeremiah!" Immediately he switched the screen off and rushed to him.
The handle squeaked. Mario put his arms under Jeremiah and lifted him, groaning. He looked around. A hiding place, pronto! Maybe in a cupboard?
He pushed the first one open with his foot – no, all full of files. Next one. Also full.
Now metal scraped against metal.
Mario bumped against an edge, stumbled, and uttered a "Sorry!". Darn! Wasn't there a single empty cupboard?
There was a clacking.
Where else could he hide? There, the door in the corner, what was behind it? A back entrance? The toilet? Mario pressed the handle with his arm.
A toilet bowl. Great. No wonder with his luck. But where else was he supposed to go?
A bit cramped and the dog weighed unexpectedly much for a ghost, which was why he carefully set it on its feet and let Jeremiah fall over him, his tongue latching onto Mario's nose. Sweet cake.
He held Jeremiah as best he could with a limp body and listened to the footsteps. What would he do if the night guard found them? Launch a surprise attack? Give up immediately? Try to talk his way out of it, or convince them of his quest? The guard had to be really stupid or badly paid to not look in here.
The door handle moved down with a clack. This was too little time to think! Quick, attack, surrender, or-.
A bright light illuminated the small toilet and blinded Mario, but this time he could only squint his eyes. Jeremiah still did not move.
Then it went dark again, a cue for him to open them slowly.
The silhouette of a Koopa stood in the doorway, with a lowered torch, baton, and sunglasses, not speaking a word. Should Mario say something, or think about his next move?
The few nanoseconds of respite had to be enough at this point, as the night guard removed the glasses and eyed the scene before him in wonder.
Now Mario also realised how downright awkward this must look. If one left out the breaking and entering part.
"It's not what it looks like!" Mario said with blushed cheeks.
But the Koopa shook his head, rubbed his eyes and then slapped his face.
Before Mario could decide on whether to offer his help, the guard spoke monotonously, almost bored, "Okay. I'm still here instead of in my bed, still seeing a moustachioed red plumber in a toilet doing weird stuff to a ghost dog. So, either I'm really hard to wake up, or Mousinand put something in my coffee." Then, though, he raised his baton, stepped towards Mario and breathed a touch of B-movie action hero into his tone, "Or do I actually see a burglar here?"
Digesting the shocking fact that one just walked in on the kingdom's hero without a second thought like a true champ, Mario began to talk himself out of it with little success, "Well, so ..." Until his mind just worked like greased lightning at the words "dream" and "coffee" and promptly gave him a way out. Again. Whether it was a good one, however, was something he didn't have time to think about. For the first time.
"Are you sure about that?"
The guard stopped and lowered the baton. A first success, but it was still too early for Mario to smile victoriously.
"What do you mean?"
"That you might not be dreaming after all, or have taken something unknowingly. Because think hard: What reason would the moustachioed red plumber have to break into the harbour master's office at night? And to do a bunk into the toilet with a ghost dog, when he could do the same at home? Can you imagine the scandal if that were to become public? These are the kind of things you can only imagine in your wildest dreams."
"Well, it's true in a way," the Koopa replied after sorting out his thoughts amidst a flurry of "uuuhs", "Okay I believe you! Sorry to disturb you, I'll go dream somewhere else then." He then turned back around and was still muttering as he left the toilet, "What's wrong with me that my brain spits out such trash?"
The door slammed shut and Mario stared dumbly towards the exit, hardly able to believe his luck.
Wow.
What a dope.
Now Mario knew who he definitely wouldn't hire.
Until the door flew open again and the familiar figure of the Koopa faced him once more.
"Wait, then why is the computer on? Why is your phone on the table there? And that dog, didn't I bludgeon him earlier!"
Too soon!
"Yeah, so?" Mario still tried to turn the tide, "Doesn't automatically mean that the whole thing here is real." But the guard blocked shaking his head, "Nah, this is really getting too weird for me. I'm calling the police, you stay here and don't do anything stupid, understand?"
Then the guard stepped back.
So much for plan X, which had arisen spontaneously from the situation.
That's why Mario initiated plan A by giving up the nonsense about the dream and saying what the matter was, "Stop, wait! Listen to me, please, I am on an important mission!"
The Koopa neither stopped nor glanced at Mario and grabbed the door.
Plan B, the tear-jerker!
"You don't understand! My brother is lost at sea and he will die if-"
"So will my family if I don't bring the money home," the guard replied gruffly while pushing the door towards the lock.
Somewhat relieved at first to not have to hear that hackneyed gag about his supposed brother again, he apologised to Jeremiah in advance with a heavy heart, for what was to come.
Plan C.
"First strike!" Mario dropped him and charged elbow-first towards the exit. Just as the door closed, Mario's bootleg version of the patented Wario Dash Attack hit and the guard was knocked to the ground from the impact. However, he took advantage of the momentum to roll over his back, stood up and pointed the tip of the baton at him.
Mario clenched his hands and cracked his knuckles. A Koopa that didn't just walk stubbornly in one direction? Had Bowser finally introduced compulsory training for more skills? Or was that part of the basic training at Shell Security?
Whoever the guard had been studying with; this was just one real-time fight of many that he was to win in no time at all.
"I warn you, I know action commands and will not hesitate to use them!" After all, no one should say he punched people just because – unless they belonged to Bowser.
"But Mario!" the Koopa retorted like a paisano who liked to destroy other people's dreams in his spare time, "Action commands only appear in turn-based role-playing games!"
This reality check rolled over Mario's stats like a thwomp over the speed limit of Toad's Turnpike, and he could only watch helplessly as his attack power and defence were reduced to level one. No double jump, no penetrating hit with the hammer – if he'd had one with him – and lowering his cap no longer offered any defence. How ever that would have worked with a garment made of simple fabric anyway.
Mario, however, hid his noob status behind a smirk, slammed his fist against his open palm and said, "I don't have to press the A button at the right time to squeeze a blue coin out of you."
"I ... I," the guard stammered, shaking his head slightly, "What? Have you munched one mushroom too many?"
Second first strike! Mario pushed himself off the ground, sped upwards towards the ceiling with his fist extended, procured more speed by pushing off and the soles of his shoes aimed at his opponent's head.
The impact of his stomping boots echoed through the room and a ring of dust spread like the shock wave of an explosion. An impressive result for an attack entirely without an action command, and yet it did not bode well.
For Mario should have jumped off the shell.
Instead, however, he landed on solid ground.
His hair stood on end.
Anything but intelligent opponents!
"Do you really think I would just stand around like an idiot, waiting for you to ram your shoes into my cakehole?"
"Actually, yes, if I'm honest."
And with the end of that sentence, Mario felt something blunt smack against the back of his head. His skull jolted and he fell to his knees, but struggled up onto wobbly legs and spun around.
A grinning face pierced him with sneering amusement as the tip of the stick bounced playfully on his open hand.
Two more heart points, as a circular display in the upper right of his field of vision informed Mario.
"Not so easy anymore when jumps don't hit and you don't have items like a fire flower at hand, is it?" the guard asked with a laugh, coming towards him with his weapon raised.
He had a point there.
But only as long as he was prepared for an attack.
"Jeremiah, now! Get him!"
The Koopa stopped, wide-eyed, and his breath caught.
"Heck no, get lost!" he said, swinging his baton as he turned around, thus revealing his back to Mario. Exactly as planned.
Once more he leapt over the opponent, performed a gravity- and law of nature-defying somersault, and then let the video game physics do the rest – which included switching on and amplifying the Earth's gravitational pull.
"Oh, you miserable-," Mario heard before his bottom hit a round object like a bomb, and then the ground. Without breaking any bones or even causing any injuries. Oh, and of course he hit the bull's eye.
His joy was short-lived, however, as painfully familiar banging from the walls and shelves delivered him bad news.
He quickly jumped up to get on the table, but something caught his legs from behind, knocking him over, and he hit his back on the floor. Not only did a wave of shocking paralysis spread through his body, but it cost him another heart point.
One more left.
"Okay, you got me on that one," the guard from outside Mario's field of vision commented simultaneously with the cessation of the ruckus, "But you seem to have forgotten that ground pounds instantly fling the shell away."
Mario yet rolled away from him, stood up – and waited, his eyes following his adversary's every move.
"Yeah, are you still doing something? Or are you just standing there gawking?"
"Wait and see; I just need to see through your attack pattern and find the point where you expose your weak spot. Then score three more hits and you're defeated. Simple."
"What, I don't understand-"
Still, amid the confusion, a thick file flew towards the boss enemy; crossed arms blocked the attack, but Mario didn't let up and grabbed the next one to throw. A demand from the guard to stop did little to ward off the second projectile. By then, the third was sailing through the air. At that rate, the enemy's defence would break in an instant!
So Mario raked the nasty turtle file after file, emptying the shelves more and more, gradually turning the room into a battlefield. The angry yells even spurred him on, increased his speed and made him get into a kind of rhythm. Like a worker who had spent most of his life behind the assembly line, his hands reached for the file, pulled it out, threw it sideways towards the Koopa, and again from the beginning. All without looking, ears plugged with burning zeal.
He could have gone on like this all night. Lather, rinse, repeat. Emphasis on "could have", if it hadn't been for the thing with Luigi. Besides, shouldn't the night guard have long since been buried under a mountain of files, or at least surrendered? He had to stop for a moment and see what was going on.
The answer arrived in the form of a black, elongated and narrow object that caught him on the head. It was closely followed by the number one on his health display changing to a zero.
His face contorted in horror, Mario stretched his arms and legs, jumped into the air and then sank into the ground.
The opponent froze.
"Wha-wha-what?" he stuttered, gazing incessantly at the spot on the ground Mario had just fallen through, "Did I, did I just kill the hero himself?" He began to sweat and grabbed his head. "Oh no no no, I didn't mean to! It was just an accident, I swear! Very big word of honour!" Then he fell silent before walking frantically in circles. "No, Peach will throw me under a thwomp! She'll tie me to a chain chomp and let it drag me through the mud! She'll, she'll ..."
His panic came to a screeching halt. Not because he had imagined the most horrible punishment the princess could inflict, but because the moustachioed plumber, out of the blue, stood before him. Upright and unharmed, as if nothing had ever happened. And merely mildly annoyed, despite his gruesome demise.
Breathing loudly, the guard stumbled back, got caught on the table and would have fallen over it if his hands hadn't managed to grip the edge.
"What black Kamek magic is this?"
"Calm down. All I had to do was fork out ten coins and wait for respawn. Extra lives are just an outdated concept, I think. For better or worse, depending on who you ask."
"Re-respawn? Extra lives?" the Koopa repeated in a shaky voice.
Mario shrugged and said as if both things were commonplace, "Sure, that's how it always goes with me. Where have you been for the last thirty-five years?"
Faced with this reality-breaking revelation, his enemy took shelter in the last refuge of his mind to protect him from the encroaching madness: logic.
"But Mario! This isn't a game!"
For the duration of a pause for breath, the room cloaked itself in silence.
"Sweet, no collision damage!"
"The actual hell is-"
And Mario threw himself at the utterly confused adversary.
Both rolled across the floor, hugging each other like dancers on a ball, releasing the embrace only to land punches, or jab fingers into each other's eyes. All this without spilling a single drop of blood or saying any nasty words!
Until the guard, defending against Mario's following attack, got hold of his wrist instead of his fist. And twisted it so much that the hero cried out.
The Koopa pushed Mario off him and stood up, always keeping a firm grip on his wrist, increasing the pressure if necessary in case Mario tried to break free. This was not needed, however, as the hero could only kneel due to this awkward position and was forced to crawl after him.
"Please, your omnipotence, have mercy!" a notorious duke from Mario's dark past pleaded through his mouth, "I can explain! I was just trying to find something related to a ship, really!"
But he was unceremoniously turned onto his stomach and his hands placed behind his back.
A tear came away from his eye and ran down his cheek.
Was this to be the end of his rescue mission? A colossal failure that came up with a missing brother and a prison sentence for him? A game over with no continues? Was the crash that shook the room at that very moment coming from the direction of the bathroom, like the chime of a clock announcing his doom? A one-way trip down the drainpipe straight to the cell?
"No, not you again!"
Looked like his playtime had extended!
Jeremiah ran out of the bathroom growling, jumped on the table and his narrowed eyes pierced the guard.
Despite his lack of dentures, the Koopa seemed to understand that it was best not to tangle with an aggressive dog: he cursed quietly, pulled the moaning Mario up and held him in a position where he could break his fingers as he slowly dragged him back towards the exit. But Jeremiah followed at every turn. Constantly, the Koopa searched his sides for something he could use to defend himself. The baton had slipped behind the table and as soon as he let go of Mario, no one could tell what Jeremiah would do to him. But likewise, the dog seemed to know not to get too close.
Hence both sides were locked in a fragile standoff in which one wrong move could end in disaster for one of them. A truce by a thread, so to speak, only breakable by a third-party intervention.
Such as a closed door.
End of the line for the guard with his prisoner. Now Jeremiah had to wait for the right moment to strike.
Still holding up his grasp with one arm, the Koopa did not take his eyes off the ghost while his other arm groped for the handle. As soon as Jeremiah ventured a step forward, however, he put his escape plan on the back burner.
Reaching for an ultimatum, the guard shouted, "One more step and I'll give Mario's arm so many new joints that he can lick his elbow!"
Jeremiah stopped but did not step back either. Still, he snarled, showing his non-existent dentures, with which he could have devoured the guard's head. If only a weak spot in the defence opened up to him!
"Zero eight six four!"
If the intervention wasn't already done by the door, then through Mario himself. Both squabblers had almost forgotten him in their feud, so hostilities were temporarily suspended as they focused on him.
"Zero eight six four? Is that a code for some crazy machine of E. Gadd now or what?"
"The PIN for my bank account," Mario explained, fishing his wallet out of his pocket and holding it up, "Take my wallet, go to an ATM with my bank card and empty my account. Feel free to take everything that's on it."
Fighting hadn't worked. Neither had persuasion. What was left?
Good old bribery.
Nothing happened behind Mario's back for now. He took that as a sure sign that his offer had struck a nerve somewhere.
"Really everything?"
"Yes, everything. I just want my brother back, and if I have to end up on the street for him, it's worth it to me."
"You have a brother?"
Mario just bowed his head and sighed. If he got a coin for that question every time, it would have been some nice additional income.
After another pause for thought, the guard inquired further, "And you're not going to rat me out to the police either?"
"Probably not, as you would then go a tit-for-tat response about the burglary, I think."
"In that case ..."
Jeremiah growled again as the Koopa nicked the wallet, but was reassured by Mario's coaxing. "All right, I'll let you go now. Do what you want, but no sudden movements, okay? Otherwise, the baton will fly against places where it really hurts, and then you won't get up again, guaranteed."
"Thank you very much, dear ...?"
"Kooperus."
"Mr Kooperus, you're a real hero."
"I can still change my mind, so don't rejoice too soon."
As agreed, Mario kept his dog at bay and let the guard with the oddly appropriate name gain a little distance after he was released into freedom. But instead of immediately continuing his search, one thing bothered him so much that he had to address it immediately.
"Is it possible that we could have prevented the whole fight if I had supported city-wide corruption from the beginning?"
"The way I see it, yes. Why?"
"So the ten minutes and I don't know how many typed words and pages were a complete waste of time?"
"Well, kind of, wasn't it?"
Mario let that fact percolate in his mind.
"That's very frustrating."
"I agree, especially since there are now all these files lying around on the floor. Wouldn't you like to clean this mess?"
"No."
Mario calmly straightened up and, together with Jeremiah, went around the table to the computer. The dog, however, did not take his eyes off Kooperus.
"What do you mean, 'no'?" he replied, perplexed, "You're the one who made this mess in the first place! Didn't your mum teach you how to-"
"I don't have time for this now! Let me do my stuff here in peace, then I'll tidy up. And not earlier."
"Good, because I'm not doing it, as that's not what I get paid for."
Silent for the sake of peace, Mario sat down and pressed the button on the monitor. While he was still waiting for a colourful screen and already shielded his eyes from the burning brightness with one arm, he heard the scraping of plastic next to him, as well as Jeremiah's opinion on this happening. It didn't surprise him much, since someone had to make sure he didn't get into mischief, as Kooperus confirmed, "Don't mind me. I just need to supervise you so that you don't steal data secretly or load a virus on it, okay?"
Mario nodded. The second pair of eyes certainly couldn't hurt. Maybe Kooperus even knew more than his unmotivated, corrupt nature suggested. Thus the matter was settled.
But they weren't the only ones in the room, and so the third member of the group protested against Kooperus' presence – bared, invisible teeth made it clear to the guard that he was lucky to have Mario around. Nonetheless, Kooperus immediately moved a little further when Jeremiah joined them and went below his safe distance. This continued until he finally bumped into a shelf.
"Could you please move your dog or something? If he bites me, I'll sue you!"
"Well, what can I say?" replied Mario impassively, "After all, you gave him a good whack."
"Because he spooked me, and secondly, he was trespassing!"
Mario would rather stare with half-closed eyes at a white text box in the middle of a yellow screen than engage in a time-consuming argument. For what he now had to expend his energy on, despite its simplicity, represented the horror of all would-be hackers worldwide, consisting of four words: "Please enter your password". Password-protected, of course, what else.
"Don't you want me to turn on the lights for you?"
"Nah, otherwise your colleagues will come over and I don't think they'd be happy about our deal. But tell me, do you happen to know the password?" he casually asked Kooperus, and just as casually a "Nope" came right back. The latter added, per his pay grade, "But try one, two, three, four, five, six and such. People are pretty lazy with that sort of thing." His loyalty to his employer must not have been at its best if Kooperus cooperated so readily. Not that Mario didn't welcome his assistance – so Mario put in one, two, three, four, five, and six, pressed enter, and resolved to whizz his passwords through random generators at home.
Starting Desktop, please wait.
Mario took off his cap, wiped his forehead and waited some more. Was it that warm in here, or was the stress going to his head? The latter, in any case, seemed more like the truth, as an error message drove the sweat from his pores. But he had come too far to let a stupid password ruin everything! Surely another seven behind it, and if that didn't work either, then up to zero. Provided the system didn't lock him out after too many failed attempts.
"Wait," Kooperus intervened like an IT supporter who had to force his friendliness through gritted teeth to avoid screaming at the sheer incompetence of the user, "I suggest you look in the drawers. After all, some people write their passwords down." Mario turned to him with raised eyebrows, then bent down under the surface. The desk had drawers?
A quick wipe with the hand provided the facts: based on the handles, six. Six attempts - sounded like not such a bad chance of hitting the jackpot. Mario didn't even want to think about the price of failure. Either guess passwords the entire night over or look through the files. But what was the use of worrying? Because as the saying goes: Take a deep breath and get to it! Just like at the dentist! Unfortunately, without anaesthetic.
Pulling the first drawer like a tooth, starting from the top left, he shone his light in and poked around with his hand. Torn cobwebs and their shocked eight-legged owner were not nothing, but a password looked different. Things were off to a good start.
Drawer number two, and this time Mario's heart did a little hop. It came crashing to the ground again, however, when he found an opened bag of wine gums. Expiry date questionable.
"Found anything?" asked Kooperus, who by now was squeezing himself against the wall, calculating how far he would get before Jeremiah caught him and tore him to pieces. Or impaled him with the bump.
"Just some sweets. You can have them if you want."
"Thanks, but nah," came back curtly and Mario kept looking.
Third attempt, another wave of joy. This time it even lasted, because what his torch revealed were papers and notebooks. He quickly pushed the pile together, heaved it out and handed it to Kooperus with the request to rummage through the documents for passwords. He couldn't produce more than a surprised "Oh, okay", so he delved into the disorganised pile while Mario moved on to the rest of the table.
Other side, the top drawer. Also a great start: a sweet smell from three bottles of Chuckola Cola – empty and dusty, like his own throat. Too bad, he could have used a little sugar right now. Just to perk himself right up, of course, and not to drown his failures and sorrows. Guaranteed. And to prevent any stupid ideas from arising, he preferred to open the last two containers – which were just as empty and dusty. Not as dusty as the papers, but still. So now it was up to Kooperus to save him the trouble of poring over files. But he was still busy, thus Mario asked him if he had been able to find anything useful in the meantime.
The bookturtle stuck his nose deep between the pages, turned the page once and excitedly gave the information, "Yes, various recipes from Tayce T.! The guy's got a terrible scrawl, but I'll be able to decipher it. Is there a photocopier around here somewhere?"
"Please, can you focus on what's important? Anything resembling a password?"
Kooperus, however, replied in the negative, "Not so far, I'm afraid. But maybe we'll get something out of it if we carefully line up all the pages, connect numbers into codes and find hidden instructions within the texts. Trust me, I've watched all episodes of Shroomlock, I know how criminal geniuses think! Just give me some time, like two hours."
At that rate, finding today's printout would be more promising. But before he fought the paperwork war to end all paperwork wars like an official after nine thousand and one mushrooms, he wanted to try something else.
His fingers targeted the upper row of numbers. Then they pressed: One, two, three, four, five, six - seven, enter. Starting Desktop, please wait. You could never push your luck often enough. At some point, you just had to win! Not necessarily in the lottery, that probably fell under "divine intervention", and luck couldn't compete with that. But at password guessing? Sure, why not? He initially relegated the bouncing, broadly grinning garlic on the screen to "noted". It was only the word "Welcome" that set his grey cells in motion and made him guess the meaning and scope of his finger movements.
"Still nothing but loads of mushroom recipes so far, but-," Kooperus updated his progress as he looked up, but interrupted himself at the sight of the miracle. "Wait, you're, I mean, did you really make it? Are you in? How did you manage that?"
Mario turned to him, punctuating his success with a cheeky smile, "Simple. I added a seven. That was all."
"Well, that's one way to pad things out," Kooperus summed up their escapade, wisely excluding his own role in it. Anyway, let him sit back, drool over the dishes and drivel, while Mario was on the last part of his mission: the search for the data needle in the datastack.
The desktop opened up and immediately welcomed them with the background of a photo. It showed the harbour at a sunset, the disc half submerged in the water – a pretty motif in his eyes, but it camouflaged the symbols so thoroughly that he thought the system froze. And if the computer had malfunctioned on top of that, he didn't know if any more righteous violence could solve the problem.
"So, what are you looking for?"
Mario skimmed the screen looking for files such as texts and spreadsheets. The printer had to receive its tasks from somewhere, after all.
"For an up-to-date listing of all the ships that have sailed today. If I can just manage to find one in particular, I've done it!"
"Does that mean you already know the name and such?"
"No, but as soon as I have the list," Mario tapped his temple with his index finger, "I'll use the ancient technique of logical deduction." Kooperus crossed his legs and, as expected, sat back, no longer even paying attention to Jeremiah.
"I want to see that. And maybe, just maybe, I'll help you with that if you recommend me to Shell Security on their Shroombook profile for a raise." Mario rolled his eyes. Cutthroat. First clearing emptying the account and now advertising? Fine, if he insisted ... but only once Mario hit a dead end! Otherwise, they would say he was running an advertising agency on the side. And the allergic reactions of the tax office to untaxed businesses and income were not to be trifled with.
It took him a little while to find a folder in the middle of the scenery, as it was hidden in one of the sunbeams – called "logbooks". Bingo! This one poured out like a matryoshka into quantities of additional folders, all with six-digit numbers. At first glance, a mess. But Mario quickly understood that they had to relate to the date. And so he sorted them according to the date of the change.
He cheered quietly. A table file from today! But not his heart. It beat faster and faster, knowing that it meant all or nothing. Either he found what he was looking for, or he could go home right away. No file, no printout.
A double click, a new window. Still empty, the system had to divert all resources to display it first. Thumbs crossed, Mario sat, pleading silently.
When a tiny list of a single entry showed itself to him, he grumbled disapprovingly, summoning Jeremiah to his side. Everything was there, from the name, to the captain, to the cargo. And yet it looked unfinished as if after a few clicks and keystrokes the harbour master had decided he had worked enough. Only one ship today, could that be? If it was, it only showed how unimportant Toad Town was to commercial shipping. As soon as he read the name carefully, however, he shook his head with a sigh.
"What's the matter?" asked Kooperus when he overheard it, "That thing is from today, isn't it? So, this should be what you're looking for, right?"
"Yeah, but something tells me this can't be serious." Ignoring Jeremiah's growl, the guard sat down with his chair by Mario and looked over his shoulder.
"Just look at the names, what kind of nonsense is this!"
After reading for a moment, Kooperus remarked with a snort, "Indeed. Soup hen is so stupid, it's either made up or someone was drunk when the name was given. And the captain's name to boot."
"T. Error. If that's not the name of an edgy OC, donut steel, by a teenager, I'll smell a dragon's feet."
Deriving some amusement from this, Mario read on. The "Soup hen" – Kooperus turned away to avoid laughing – had docked from Yoshi's Island at six in the morning, loaded woo beans and set sail again at about twelve towards Rogueport. The authenticity of the names aside, everything seemed to fit together into a logical whole: Whatever Luigi had sailed on, it wasn't an excursion ship. And Mario would eat his hat if his brother wanted to leave his old life behind and begin anew in Rogueport. In a town that was known to be controlled by thieves and gangsters? A gentle soul like Luigi would not last a day there!
It became all the more urgent to use this newfound information to send out those who could now save him from the storm. So with single-minded determination, Mario reached for the phone, picked it up and handed it to Kooperus.
"Kooperus, here."
"Wait, what are you doing?"
"Notify the coast guard. Have them search for the Soup hen and bring everyone on board to Toad Town." Kooperus looked at him puzzled, shrugged his shoulders and replied listlessly, "And you're not doing it yourself because ...?"
"Because I, well," Mario hummed and hawed, "Let's just say the police and I had some disagreements and since then our relationship has been a bit complicated. In other words: If they see my mobile number on the display or hear my voice, they hang up. And that's why I'm imploring you to make the call for me."
Only after Jeremiah's barking insistence did Kooperus pick up the phone and mutter in annoyance, "I will get my recommendation, or else."
"Yeah yeah, you'll get it," Mario assured him no less annoyed, "Tell them that people are in danger, no one on board can be reached and the ship is hundreds of years old according to eyewitnesses. You have the necessary info on your screen."
"Fine, I will. But you do know that the Rogueport Coast Guard is on the Pianta syndicate's payroll, right?"
"Silly question, every kid knows that. Would be news to me too if they suddenly had a problem with ships in distress."
"Fine, just thought I'd say that. But don't say I didn't warn you."
While Kooperus dialled the police number, Mario planned his next steps, memorising the data in the entry, sorting through everything he'd been able to get his hands on so far: An ancient carrack; a Toad who had contact with Luigi; two made-up names; a freighter posing as an excursion ship heading for Rogueport; a jet ski; no planned return. Could it be that the Soup hen had been abandoned and the captain had returned to shore? No lifeboat, but a jet ski? That should be fast enough to get back in time before the storm. But before he got too hung up on the thesis of a crime, he made himself aware that it could all have been based on a misunderstanding. Maybe Luigi had made a mistake and got on the wrong ship. Wouldn't have been the first time. Maybe something had gone terribly wrong during the journey. Maybe the Toad in the tavern had nothing to do with it. Mario couldn't just barge into the inn and throw accusations around willy-nilly.
On the other hand, it would be different if he confronted the suspect with something tangible. Like the table, for instance. Because paper did not lie. If necessary, he would drag the villain into the office and put him through the wringer in peace.
A few clicks later and a copy of the page tumbled out of the printer, which Mario carefully folded and stowed in his trouser pocket.
Kooperus watched his actions attentively yet silently, and as soon as a tinny voice on the other end of the line answered, Mario was forgotten again, "Good evening, my name is Kooperus. I would like to report an acute emergency and that is ..." For the first time since noon, Mario could breathe a sigh of relief. Thus everything was set in motion for Luigi.
Mario might not be able to do anything more for him from here. Which didn't mean he couldn't serve up justice. Vigilantism or not, the potential prison sentence was worth it. What he had exhaled of worry and fear earlier was replaced with new courage, and righteous anger fuelled his body. Even Bowser himself would not be able to stop him now. No one!
Once "I'm at the tavern" whispered into Kooperus' ear, Mario disappeared with Jeremiah into the darkness of the stormy night.