JMJ

Chapter Nineteen

Out of Sight

"Ahhhh!" cried Boomer.

Just barely did he duck down out of the way of the oncoming bot.

"Ahhhh!" cried the two sisters as they just barely missed hitting the jutting corner of a building.

"Why do they keep attacking us!?" wailed Bubbles.

"Cuz they're evil robots, duh!" cried Buttercup.

Bubbles knew that was why. Buttercup knew that she knew that was why. And she knew her telling her was helping nobody, but crying in frustration usually prevailed. As usual it did nothing to save them either. Boomer was hardly doing that.

"Why don't you blast 'em!" snapped Buttercup to Boomer.

Boomer didn't listen.

Somehow Buttercup was happy he didn't and continued on the defensive. After all, she doubted she could trust that kind of multitasking from Boomer. Poor kid, really— never having a chance to think for himself and all. Ug! Was she really starting to feel sorry for Boomer like Bubbles was?

"Ahhhh!" Bubbles screamed.

A flagpole almost smacked the basket. Buttercup gaped as she realized that just inches more and Boomer might have lost his hold on the handle. Though, they were long from the sight of it as they swooped down into the streets. The bots were no longer shooting but reaching out with great arms to snatch Boomer or the basket like scores of gulls snatching at the same fish in the clutches of another.

But why did that other bird have to be Boomer?

"Ahhh!" screamed Boomer again.

"Ahhh!" screamed the girls.

It was like some really stupid song about screaming it was becoming so regular. One of those experimental kind that should have remained experimental to save everyone the ear drool.

Then inevitably at last, one hand snatched correctly. The mechanical hand clasped the basket handle right from Boomer's grasp.

"Huh?" Boomer gasped.

In a moment of panic, Buttercup snatched Boomer's foot as fast as she could. Then she snatched Bubbles even faster. Bubbles let out an eep! Then a "phew". But the weight was too much for one normal little girl's hand. Buttercup didn't have her power. Oh, it made her so frustrated as her fingers grew sweaty, quickly losing grip! The true state of their weakness was quite over Boomer's head. He was still looking around frantically for more bots, and before Buttercup could cry for Boomer to help them—

Swoop!

They would have fallen anyway, but a bot made one last grab. With a sock to the head from a metallic blow even more suddenly, even Boomer lost his balance as Buttercup lost her hold. Empty air was all around them then. No flying. No nothing. It was a nightmare that Buttercup almost beyond comprehension. She couldn't even scream, and then—

Baloomp!

Buttercup fluttered her eyelids open, hardly aware that she had closed them to begin with.

"W—w—w—what?" squeaked Bubbles.

Boomer just blinked at the both of them in total bewilderment.

A bot swerved towards them before the children understood that they were suspended in such a way instead of not just going crazy. Gripping each other in terror they shrunk back, but just as it neared their bubble, it zipped away again.

Bubble?

Again they opened their eyes.

"Yes! They're safe!" cried the distinct voice of the Professor despite the force field barrier making it echo a little.

"But we're not!" called another voice.

The children looked down.

"Professor, look out!" shouted Buttercup; her voice was joined by not only Bubbles' voice, but Blossom's down below too.

The bots were headed straight for the Professor and his remote.

The bubble popped.

All three fell again, but only for a second before the bubble reemerged. In a spongy plume they were enveloped together with the Professor, Blossom, and… Wes?

Well, Buttercup and Bubbles had Boomer. That was weirder, Buttercup supposed.

"Girls!" Blossom sobbed.

Her hug was a tackle that would have had all three of them banged into the cement, but inside the bubble they only bounced like into the side of a trampoline.

"Blossom!" cried Bubbles and Buttercup together, tears in their eyes.

"Oh, girls!" choked the Professor, and soon they were all in one big tight embrace.

Boomer and Wes looked at each other unsure who the other was, but they both shrugged and smiled despite themselves.

They were all safe now inside this haven in the middle of the fallen city. The bots passed them by as the Professor explained why, and Buttercup was beaming so hard her cheeks hurt from the sheer pleasure of hearing his voice. It didn't even matter what he was saying. Then she remembered everything else, though.

"Professor!" she suddenly cut in. "What are we going to do now?"

"I have a suggestion."

Buttercup blinked. They all blinked and rather stupidly as everyone looked down to voice outside the bubble.

"Mojo Jojo?!" gasped Bubbles, the first to speak.

There he was in all his glory… or lack of it, really. With arms wrapped behind his back to try to keep some shred of grandeur, he mostly just looked sheepish. He also looked a little haggard lifting his chest importantly as well as he could. Then he took a deep breath.

#

"Yes," said Mojo with a modest cough. "It is me, Mojo Jojo, that stands before you on this street corner, and might I say, Professor, that that is a very impressive gadget for warding off my robots from attacking you by cloaking all things from their sensory systems and at the same time blocking anything outside of the bubble thus shielding out and the keeping of everything inside safely within. I see there are other things I did not foresee aside from merely the betrayal of Com."

"Uh… thank you?" said the Professor lifting a wary brow.

Wes winced. The girls blinked.

"Hey, how come they're not attacking you?" Buttercup demanded after a moment of sufficient silence.

Before Mojo could answer, Boomer zipped right out to him like a hornet. Apparently, though the bubble kept everything outside from getting in, it could not stop a super powered little boy from getting out, especially as furious as Boomer was. In a flash of cobalt light, Mojo met with the pain. Punch, kick, sock, bash!

"Where's my brothers you—you—you stupid monkey!" he could not come up with a better insult, apparently, but Mojo had been insulted enough that day that anything Boomer might have dished out verbally would have only been another kick to his wounded pride.

Besides, those were pretty good physical blows, and Mojo felt every last one to only add to his inner pains anyway. Not that he was not thankful when the Professor and the girls ran to stop the boy.

"Wait!" Blossom was the first to shout.

"Boomer!" Bubbles squealed.

"Stop!" snapped Buttercup.

The pain suddenly did stop, and Mojo throbbed as Boomer withdrew and turned with a pout to the others.

"Why not!?" sulked Boomer. "You guys do it all the time!"

"He can't tell us what's going on if you knock his brains out, dummy!" Buttercup snapped; though as she turned, she sniffed to mutter, "Not that he doesn't deserve it."

Mojo meanwhile wasted no time brushing himself off and rubbing a tender jaw as he growled to himself.

"Yes, yes, yes, there's no time for that now," Mojo muttered. "I have many important things of relevance and of great magnitude of which I must impart upon you, my enemies. Many events have just occurred and have been occurring that must be revealed now despite everything between us."

In their impatience, the others exchanged glances and an assortment of shrugs. Buttercup rolled her eyes, but that only made Mojo all the more adamant in his purpose.

"Things," he went on staunchly, "that will change the way you view the—"

Tssswww!

Mojo let out a yelp, but the laser had not been aimed for him. Boomer had been its target even if the shot just barely missed the monkey's own boot as the little firefly zipped out of the way with a shriek. The sidewalk bore a smoking hole, but Mojo had no time to scrutinize it as he suddenly felt himself suspended by the arms.

For a split second he thought with terror, Com reprogrammed the robots!

But he suddenly found himself hot and somewhat claustrophobically pressed together inside the Professor's bubble along with Boomer, the girls, the Professor, and… was that Wes, that boy who used to come and give him peanuts?

He blinked and cocked his head more animal-like than usual. The memory flashed through his mind, but then he also realized with some delayed surprise that it had been the Professor who had pulled him in here. He looked at the Professor and felt suddenly very small and insignificant again. Guilty and belittled. It overwhelmed him if only briefly.

"Professor…?" his voice came out more gently than he had intended; then he caught himself.

Blinking again, and turning roughly away, he sniffed, "It was not necessary for you to put me in the safety of this bubble as the robots are not programmed to consider me a threat as I am still their creator and the maker, the one who designed them into existence and—"

"And it's easier to talk with you inside the bubble with us," the Professor assured him with an infuriatingly candid sort of grin.

Mojo snorted.

"So where'd you hide my brothers?" pushed Boomer right in his face now so that Mojo jumped back a pace and blundered into the flexible shell of the bubble.

He recovered but was still faced with Boomer's burning icy blue eyes. Mojo crossed his arms.

"No, first, why are you out here and not in your observatory?" Blossom wanted to know.

"That is a good question," said the Professor grimly.

As Mojo looked up with a stubborn pout, he noticed the Professor crossing his arms too. Mojo shoved his own to his sides. Then with a dramatic flair he spun away from their faces towards the shell of their bubble. His own wretched scowling reflection stared back at him like a ghost upon the view of the desolation of his making, the destroyed city and the bots searching for survivors to take to his slave pit in the name of Com.

"I have been betrayed…" Mojo breathed like a wisp of dust on the wind.

He closed his eyes unable to bear the sight of the hurt and anger in those orbs to his own soul, and he gently wrapped his arms behind his back again with theatric poise at the poetic irony of this moment.

"Again?" demanded Buttercup.

"Grrrr!" rage boiled over, and as his shoulders shook to their zenith, he leapt back towards his receding audience and snarled, "Oh, you always know how to ruin an expressive reflective moment." He waved his hands and stifled his anger back down again. "Yes, again." He paused and stared down at the ground. Then he looked up once more. "For the last time."

Buttercup shrugged. "Sure."

"So, what do you have to do with Com?" asked Blossom.

"What do you know about Com?" Mojo demanded of the tiny frail child beneath him.

She had lost her powers, but not her strength of character, he saw. He breathed thoughtfully a few seconds. Then relented. This was why he came here after all— to tell them.

"I shall tell you. I'll tell you everything there is to know about him."

"But first shouldn't we go somewhere more… out of sight?" asked Wes. "Can Com see us through this bubble?"

"Even though he was organic matter at one time, he sees and feels the world through only computer sensorial systems so he should not be able to detect us in here easily," said Mojo.

"Even still," said the Professor. "We should probably get somewhere safer than this. Any suggestions?"

"Well, not home, we'll be found there if anyone wants to know where we are," said Blossom.

"Why not the secret lab of Pr. Ex? I'm sure it is abandoned by now," Mojo suggested. "No one would look for anyone there anymore. Besides, he may have some Chemical X left, although it is not likely."

"And you know the way there?" asked the Professor with grave suspicion.

"I do," said Mojo gratified by the fact that the Professor still deemed him worthy of some level a fear, "and I know how to make it look as though the Gangreen Gang sabotaged the place too far gone for the security system to work so that Com will not be able to detect us there. We will not require the Professor's protective bubble, and we will be safe within the boundaries of those walls. Though, that will require the cooperation of Boomer for it to work."

"No!" Boomer crossed his arms now and looked away. "I'm not helping you with anything!"

Mojo rolled his eyes.

"Come on, Boomer," said Bubbles. "It's gunna get us closer to saving your brothers."

"Yeah, well, I don't trust him! Maybe it's just a trap!" and here Boomer stuck his tongue out and spat at Mojo.

"Oh, for crying out loud!" Mojo snapped. "What purpose do you think I could possibly have for coming out here myself to lure you into a trap? If I had the power and ability to do such a thing I would not perform such an action in such a way."

"I think," said Bubbles patting Boomer on the shoe very gently (she could not very well pat his back with him hovering so), "for right now we just have to trust him."

"Bubbles is right!" Buttercup said. "Besides he is warning us about the security systems and stuff."

"Mmm hmm," nodded Bubbles happily. "Buttercup's right too!"

"Exactly!" said Mojo.

Blossom looked from one sister to the other and back again, quite bewildered by their stealing what she had meant to say all along, but she smiled then, and nodded. Even Mojo had to take the time to notice how close Bubbles and Buttercup were at the moment. Their time alone obviously had been more a help to them than otherwise.

Such was the curse of a villain's plots to destroy his enemies by giving them situations that heroes simply overcame. It brought more truth to the phrase, "what doesn't kill me makes me stronger", and that went double for filial or sisterly bonds. Mojo knew that from experience.

"Are we going or aren't we?" Mojo demanded turning with disapproval to his wayward son.

"We're going, Mojo Jojo!" Boomer declared back. "But not because I want to do what you tell me to do but because I don't want to that I'm doing what you tell me! And if you don't do what we tell you and you don't tell us where my brothers are I'll tell myself to tell you that I'm going to tell you that I'm gunna kick your butt so hard that you'll tell your butt how much it tells you I told you so!"

Mojo smacked his forehead. He could not tell if that was Boomer trying to sound smart or if he was mocking that form of overabundant speech that everyone always accused Mojo of, but no matter.

"Makes sense to me!" laughed Blossom.