Chapter Nine
The four of them enter Aloysius O'Hare's office; a great, sprawling thing done in white and blue, just as O'Hare Air had been done. There are large windows behind him, and several doors on the other side.
"Hey! Greetings, Operators!" All four of them feel their stomachs fall. "That's right, I know what you call yourself. I was approached by one calling herself 12 last year, but I turned her down. It doesn't matter-I have this power to myself-and anyone willing to pay me my $250,000 can have it, too. Im-mor-tal-i-ty. Beautiful, isn't it-but then, you Natural Operators don't know any different." He stands and paces, his hands behind his back. "Sylvester McMonkey McBean and The one and only Once-ler. How do you like it? Being immortal and eternally young? Walking like gods amongst men. It's not fair that only a few of you have it, and no one else." He wipes his nose and shrugs. "At least, that's what I think."
"Life isn't fair." Sylvester says. 38 grits her teeth.
"Before we kill you, how are you doing this?" He claps his hands and a door opens, revealing a hulking, muscular natural Operator strung up by his wrists. Black blood pumps from his veins through tubes and his head is hung. He is unresponsive. 38 and 86 back up, their hands over their mouths in shock.
"Number 44? How did someone like you over-power Minigun? He has a minigun for God's sake!" 86 says, disbelief in her voice.
"Hey," O'Hare says. "He came to me. Wanted to raise his own army of Endrets and take on the Master. Stupid bastard didn't know I'd be taking his blood and making my own army. Thneedville will be mine again, even if I have to take it with my army. Speaking of..." he pushes a button on his desk and the rest of the doors open. Growling and snarling is heard from within. He pulls a cord on his suit and vanishes out the window. Once-ler, Sylvester, 86, and 38 find themselves bum-rushed by no less than 10 Artificials. Once-ler and Sylvester get to punching and 86 and 38 rush to 44, horrified to see one of their own in such a sorry state.
"Could at least one of you girls get out here and help!?" Once-ler shouts. "Thirty-eight!? Eighty-six!?" Sylvester stomps one Artificial's neck, breaking it, but the man gets back up, to his shock. His head hangs loose, but he's still swinging. Once-ler shoves his hand through the crooked man's chest and pulls out his heart. He crushes it and goes to pull another's head off. Two down. 38 heel-stomps one on top of the head, shattering their skull before slamming them into the wall while 86 forces her entire arm through the chest cavity of another. Eventually, blood drenches the floor, but all of the Artificials lie dead on the once-white floor. The receptionist from earlier comes in with water and snacks, her eyes shut and smiling brightly. She opens her eyes to the absolute carnage, screams, and drops her tray.
"Leave now and never speak a word of what you've seen here, lady." 38 says. She nods and runs, her high heels clacking on the floor as she disappears down the hall and out of the building.