Their boys were zonked out in the seats reserved for them, and as he brought the Blue Earth back down to a smooth, safe landing, Ringo smiled. He'd been a little worried about them, or at least about Slade, since Saber usually seemed to have his head on straight even when his brother was freaking out. Still, after he'd seen those two out there, he wasn't going to worry anymore. Whatever Saber had said to his lunkhead of a twin brother while the two of them had been cuddling, it'd clearly done the trick to get him back in the game.
He'd have to thank Saber for whatever it was, in some subtle way that wouldn't get the kid's attention and likely end up with the kid giving him one of the "what are you, stupid?" looks that he tended to give Slade just before whacking his brother upside the head; maybe a good game of racquetball... he'd have to think about it, though.
Once the Blue Earth was settled nicely back on terra firma, and he and Star had finished with the shut-down sequence, Ringo climbed out of his seat and headed over to where Saber was sitting. Star had subtly edged him out every other time that he'd tried to scoop Slade out of his seat, ever since she'd started getting closer to the kid. So, he'd started focusing his attention on getting Saber back to his room.
He thought it was kind of cute, the way she wanted to spend as much time as she could with Slade, even when the kid was clearly determined to be an idiot about something that no one but the most oblivious of people - or someone who didn't spend very much time around them, but Slade definitely didn't have that kind of excuse - would have been able to ignore. Maybe he could use the game of racquetball that he was going to see about arranging with Saber to hash out just how they might be able to get Star and Slade to admit how they felt about each other.
Smiling slightly as he lifted Saber out of his eat, even as Star was gathering Slade up into her arms, Ringo watched as she left the Blue Earth. Making his own way out of the ship once Star had moved out of the entrance, Ringo took a look down at Saber when he'd gotten back on more stable footing. The kid was doing all right, sleeping like the kitten that he and Slade looked so much like when they curled up together.
He wondered, sometimes, if he'd have found Slade in Saber's room - or the other way around - if he'd have been able to look without fear of inviting Saber's reprisal. He figured that he probably would have, since what had gone on yesterday would have been practically guaranteed to freak Slade out but good. Still, there was also the chance that - given that it'd been Saber who Slade had attacked in the first place - that whatever kind of comfort that Slade got from having his brother with him wouldn't have been nearly as comforting as it'd seemed to be the last two times that he'd seen it in action.
Who knew, maybe the two of them had slept separately last night; there was no real way for him to know, particularly since Saber would probably punch him if he tried to bring it up in conversation.
When he'd gotten Saber back to his room, settling the kid into his bed after he'd taken his boots off, Ringo sighed. Sure, those boys seemed to be all back to normal – ripping right through the Radam's Spider-crabs just the same way that they had always seemed to do – but somehow he got the feeling that there was more to the situation than either of the twins was letting on. Even he couldn't have been expected to just get over something like what had happened to the twins in just a single day, and he wasn't even the one expected to spearhead the defense of Earth the way both Slade and Saber were.
Of course, that meant that there was yet another thing that he'd have to subtly bring up while he and Saber were playing racquetball; this was starting to look like a bigger job than he'd planned on in the beginning, but since those two crazy kids were just as much his friends as he was theirs, he wasn't going to half-ass it just because it was hard. If anything, he'd do a better job because of that. Slade and Saber had done everything that they could to repel the Radam, their Spider-crabs, and even those other Teknomen that the enemy seemed to be keeping in storage somewhere.
Really, it was the least he could do, making sure that the twins keep their heads straight after all the crap that was being shoveled on them.
11110100101
As he pulled back into his reserved parking space in the parking-lot of AEM Command, at least the one that operated in this area, Balzac smiled. Not only did he have one hell of a lot of data to share with the General, not only could he get rid of the damned, annoying beard that he'd been sporting for the duration of his stay at the Space Knights' Command Center, but he also had one hell of a story to tell Marlowe when the two of them managed to find some time for themselves.
All in all, he was more than happy to be getting back to a place that he felt he could belong; the one place that had taken in a pair of street brats with no family, no real last names, and no connections, and given them a future.
Rolling his eyes a bit at the direction his thoughts had taken, not really wanting to think about depressing things – the past was gone, he and Marlowe had gotten away from it, and so there was no point in thinking about anything that had to do with those days – Balzac continued on his way deeper into his home base. Continued into the only real home that he had ever known.
He had to make an appointment with the General so that he could give his report before he did anything else, even in spite of the fact that he wanted nothing more than to head back to his room for a long, hot shower, after he'd shaved off every last scrap of the damned beard he'd had to grow for this job. Still, he'd learned long ago to put business before pleasure if he wanted to get anywhere in this world.
Flagging down one of the many, many junior officers in this section of the base, Balzac gave him instructions to report his presence to the General. After he was done, Balzac made for the room that he'd been assigned when he first got here; the one he'd spent a fair amount of his formative years in, the closest thing to a home that he and Marlowe had ever had. Once he'd gotten inside, tossing his hat onto a convenient table on his way into the bathroom, Balzac removed his shirt and tossed it in the hamper.
He'd wash up once he was done shaving, but there was no way that he was going to wait that long to get rid of the damned beard.
Lathering up his favorite shaving-cream, Balzac covered the beard with it – making sure to work it in between all of the niggling little hairs at the edges of the beard – and began to shave the thing. It felt so good, to slide the razor down his face, slicing away all of the longish, itchy hairs that he'd been allowing to grow on it. Continuing with his work, glancing up at the mirror occasionally to check that he'd gotten what he'd been aiming for, or to see where he needed to move to next.
When he was finally finished, rinsing the remains of the shaving-cream off of his face and toweling himself dry, Balzac smiled at his reflection in the mirror. That's more like it, he thought, squirting a handful of aftershave into his palm. Smoothing it over his face, feeling the accustomed, cool tingle as he rubbed the stuff on his cheeks, chin, and along the base of his jaw, Balzac let his smile curve upward into a smirk.
Knowing his actions were being observed, and also being perfectly aware of just where the alleged hidden-camera was located – having been thoroughly acquainted with the tools of the espionage trade well enough to know the tell-tale signs of a hidden-camera when it was spying on him – Balzac turned around and headed over to the painting behind him. It was an abstract; something that bore a slight resemblance to something else, but not really enough to tell you what the hell it was at first glace.
It was also, in this case, the perfect place to hide a camera.
"Well, what d'you think of me now?" he asked, smirking a bit wider as he imagined the person on the other side of the feed. "Handsome devil, aren't I?"
He really hoped it was Sylvia who'd been assigned to monitoring duty during this shift; she was such a cutie.
Flicking his razor a few more times to get the last of the water off, Balzac put it up neatly and then began to wash up. He had a lot of things to do today, starting with making his report to the General, and then finding some time to catch up on things with Marlowe. After all, there was a lot of ground to cover, for both of them.
11101010010
Once he'd been given the data that Balzac had gathered from those Space Knights, Marlowe hadn't wasted any time in uploading the data from the flash-drive into his personal mainframe. After going over the gathered data as thoroughly as he ever did, Marlowe had presented it to the scientific division that he had been placed in charge of and ordered them to get to work on a prototype.
There were times, even now after all he'd done and seen them do, that Marlowe couldn't quite believe that he was in charge of an entire Sci-Division. Times when he was sure that he was going to wake up and find that all of this had actually been a dream, that he and Balzac hadn't really escaped their lives in the slums. That the two of them were right back where they had started.
Still, there were more important things to think about today than the tricks that his subconscious seemed to want to play on him whenever he let down his guard for too long. Things like the fact that General Gault himself had taken an interest in the work he and his Division were doing, and hence would be arriving to meet him shortly. With that in mind, Marlowe had had his underlings working twice as hard as he had ever had.
Marlowe liked to see that all of his underlings understood just how important it was that General Gault saw just how dedicated his Sci-Division was to the cause; it wouldn't do for the General to see them slacking-off on something so important, so he was glad that none of them had done so.
Checking the clock, one of several that had been synchronized to the time-readings in the master-mainframe of this base, Marlowe saw that General Gault would be there momentarily. Knowing that it was always best to be prepared when the General was involved, Marlowe activated his mainframe and began calling up the data that he and his Sci-Division had compiled while they had been working toward building their own, working prototype.
Marlowe often thought that they would have made better progress on that front if they had been given access to the prototypes that the Space Knights' Commander Jamison had been working on; still, for starting work with only the raw data that Balzac had provided for them, his Sci-Division had done very well.
Just as he had finished bringing the specifications for the prototype that was being built, General Gault himself came striding into the room.
"Report," the General said, after he had taken in the environs of this room of Marlowe's Sci-Division.
"Yes, General," he said, nodding and beginning to run through the data that he and his Division had compiled. "We've been making quite a bit of progress during these last few days," he continued, a slight, pleased smile. "The Military will soon have our own Tekno-suits. We've been running several tests in the computer, and I think the results will impress you."
"Excellent work."
"Thank you, General Gault," he said, smiling at the thought that came to him "We couldn't have done it without Balzac. We've been checking over the entire system: right now, they're evaluating the integrated gyro-mechanism." The General made a noise of understanding. "If you're really interested, General, you can watch my people put one together. They are building the prototype in Lab A."
"All right," the General said, making his way over to a convenient opening in the wall; something that Marlowe himself often used to observe the activities within the laboratory. "When should the first suit be ready?"
"Very soon," he said calmly.
"What did you find out about "Z-tron"?" the General asked, after a few minutes spent watching the laboratory technicians and engineers at their assigned tasks. "Balzac said that it was listed under "antimatter" in the Teknoman files. Do they use it to transform, and can we use it in our Tekno-suits?"
After so long spent studying the data in that flash-drive, not to mention what Balzac had shared with him of his time spent with the Space Knights, it was impossible for Marlowe not to know just who the General was referring to when he asked that question. "Well, General, we think that Z-tron is the substance they use to transform."
"Just as I thought," the General said. "Can our scientists develop the technology which will enable them to synthesize the substance in our research labs? Enough to supply our needs?"
"I believe it's possible to synthesize it."
"Marvelous," the General said, clearly pleased. "That's very good. Because of your diligence, we can finally turn the tables on the alien invaders. This is the added muscle I needed; this is my finest hour. The best part of this is, when we have our own Tekno-suits, we won't need Slade or his brother anymore."
He didn't have anything in particular to say to that, so Marlowe kept his thoughts to himself. There wasn't really anything for him to say; the only things he knew about those two was the fact that Balzac thought that he might like Saber, and that the two of them worked for the Space Knights. And, given how the General had sounded at the prospect of not needing either of them anymore, Marlowe now understood that General Gault wasn't particularly fond of either of them for one reason or another.
Of course, it wasn't really his business what the General felt about the Space Knights, so Marlowe made up his mind not to think about it anymore.
"Keep up the good work," the General said, grinning at him before turning to leave.
Nodding even as the General left, Marlowe turned his attention back to his technicians, watching as they continued building the prototype. Seeing one of his own designs, admittedly based on the work of the Space Knights' Commander Jamison, coming into being definitely provided him with a feeling of accomplishment. With a last look into the laboratory, Marlowe turned and made his way back to the computer.
While his underlings had their own duties, he knew by now that he could trust them to take care of their own assignments.
11010100011
He was inside the Command Center; it felt like there was something clawing at his mind, forcing him onward and deeper into the building. There was also someone in front of him, running from him as he continued forward. He didn't know why, but he almost thought that this person was somehow familiar to him.
They were running, whoever they were, running away from him. Why, though? If he and they were both supposed to be friends, then why was this person running from him?
He thought, or else he remembered, that the running figure in front of him was a girl; could be a girl, or in any case it-she was female, at least. He couldn't see the look on her face, couldn't know if even she knew why she was running from him, but she still was. It was frustrating!
Was she the enemy? Was that why she was running from him? It had to be.
Lunging forward, he swung the weapon in his hands with a growl. If she was the enemy, then she was going to die just like every other enemy! Someone else, a boy, or a man, came up from behind him; another enemy, probably wanting to attack him for what he'd done to that woman, came running up from behind him.
Turning quickly, more quickly than his new enemy probably realized he could move, he stabbed forward. It was kind of strange, though: none of these new enemies seemed to be reacting right; neither of them seemed to know how fast he could move when he was under pressure, and not one of them had moved to attack. In fact, the two new ones who had just shown up, most likely in response to what he'd done to their compatriots, weren't even moving forward at all.
It was like they didn't even want to confront him. But, that was impossible, wasn't it?
He could sense something else, now; something- someone that felt very familiar to him. Something that all of his instincts told him was a friend. He thought that he might have even been able to put a name to it; still, he was surrounded by enemies. But then, maybe that was why this new person was coming; he hoped so.
When the new person placed themselves between him and his enemies, though, he didn't really know what to do. This newcomer wasn't supposed to be an enemy; his instincts were telling him that, and he'd only gotten as far as he had into this place - a place that he could no longer remember the name of - by following them. On the other hand, his allies weren't supposed to be siding with the enemy.
That would have to mean that he was the enemy too; he didn't want this newcomer- someone who was familiar to him in so many little ways, to be the enemy. That meant that he would have to deal with them the same way he'd dealt with all of his other enemies, and he didn't want that. Still, when another enemy came running up from behind the newcomer, an enemy that began to feel maddeningly familiar when he turned his attention to them, he realized what he had to do.
It was a strange situation, but the only explanation that made any sense was that his enemies had managed to find a way of tricking his own instincts into thinking of them as friends. That meant that the newcomer wasn't someone that he knew, someone that he'd worked closely with and would therefore want to protect. It was just another enemy, and that meant that he didn't have to hesitate anymore.
He'd deal with them, just like he dealt with all of his other enemies.
Pointing his weapon forward, he drove it deep into the center-of-mass that his enemy - the one that had tried to trick him into thinking it was a friend - presented to him. When the enemy fell, blood dripping from its mouth, into the arms of another enemy that had been trying to disguise itself from him, he hadn't expected to feel anything but vindication in the fact that he'd managed to see through their disguises and deal with them like any other enemy.
Instead, it felt like he'd lost something; something important to him, something that he'd never wanted to lose. Wait, how had his enemy known that name? Where had he heard it, and why was he saying it as if it meant something to him? He was just an enemy!
They both were, right...?
Lunging up and out of bed, Slade tried frantically to regain his bearings. Seeing the familiar edges of the objects in his room, their forms momentarily obscured before his eyes adjusted to the level of light in his room, Slade tried to control his frantic breathing. That had been the first time that he'd ever seen Shara in one of his dreams, and he wished he hadn't seen anyone.
He hated those; the nightmares that haunted him almost every time that he tried to rest, driving him from sleep and making him feel like he was losing his mind.
He'd told Saber that he was all right, and the two of them had slept in their own rooms. He was glad for that; Saber would have worried too much about him, especially if he'd heard Slade shouting his and Shara's names the way he'd done just a few seconds ago. That dream, that nightmare, had been horrible, but he was coping.
It was what he had to do.
The next thing he knew, the screen in his room, the one on the right-hand side of his bed that he hadn't had much cause to think about until now, blinked on suddenly. Tina was there, smiling at him as if she hadn't a care in the world; besides Saber, Slade couldn't think of a person that he'd wanted to see less at this moment. After all, she had been in his dream, too.
"Good morning, time to get out of bed!" Tina called cheerfully. "Saber's already up, and the Commander wants to see all of us, right away."
"Great," he muttered, turning away as he tried to gather his wits. "I'll be right there."
"What's the matter?" Tina asked teasingly, smiling at him with closed eyes. "Did you get up on the wrong side of bed?"
The screen turned off after that, and Slade was glad not to have to answer Tina's question. He didn't want to tell anyone about the dreams he'd been having; that would just make people worry, and he didn't want to be anymore of a burden than he was.
Climbing out of bed, Slade headed for the bathroom attached to his personal quarters. He'd have to wash up quickly, especially since Tina had implied that the Commander was waiting on him. Well, him and Saber, but the way Tina had said it had seemed to imply that Saber had already gotten ready. So, really it was just him that needed to hurry up.
Washing up quickly, Slade dressed in yet another Space Knight uniform and made his way out of his quarters. He could still remember what he'd seen himself doing in that nightmare, still remember blood dripping down Saber's chin and the way his teknolance had stuck up out of his younger twin's chest. Shaking his head to clear the memories, Slade zipped up his vest and made his way out of his quarters.
Looking down the hall, Slade caught sight of Saber. He tried not to think too much about what he'd dreamed just last night; he didn't want to break down in front of his brother, or really anyone else, but he didn't want Saber in particular to worry about what was happening to him. As he caught up to Saber, falling into step beside his younger twin, Slade looked over at him.
Saber looked like he was doing all right, there were no signs that his younger twin had been having any nightmares, or that he'd been having any trouble sleeping at all. Slade was glad to see that; he didn't want his brother to suffer the things that he'd been going through. Saber would probably have smacked him if he'd known how Slade was worrying about him, but Slade couldn't stop himself from doing so.
Neither did he want to.
"Hey, brother," he said, after looking over Saber to make sure that he was all right.
"Hey, brother," Saber echoed, as they both headed down the corridor toward Comm One.
There was no real need to say anything after that; both of them knew the other well enough to know if the other wasn't doing well. When the both of them reached Comm. One, running down the down the corridor to save at least some time, Slade found that all of the other Space Knights were already there waiting for them. When he and Saber joined up with the rest of them, Slade breathed more easily.
Even though there was probably something unpleasant in store for them, he would at least be doing something; it would help keep his mind off of his nightmare.
"Hey, you two," Ringo said tauntingly. "I just knew you'd grace us with your presence sometime."
"Shut up," Star muttered, just loudly enough that they could all hear her.
"Thank you, Star," the Commander said, his sharp, pinkish gaze taking them all in. "Now that you're all here, let's cut to the chase: I want you to go to Texas."
"Texas?" Ringo echoed; Slade could understand why the other Space Knight was so incredulous about the idea, since Texas was quite a bit out of their way, and the Radam mainly seemed to be attacking in either the surrounding area or on the Space Ring.
"That's right," the Commander stated. "Look at this."
"That's an old piece of equipment," Mac said, in response to the image that appeared on the main screen after it had displayed what seemed to have been the Blue Earth's projected course.
"Looks like some ancient relic," Maggie said; Slade tried to think of where he might have seen something like that, the machine almost seemed like something Ness Carter would have seen in a history book or something.
"This "antique" is a particle-accelerator," the Commander said; Slade could have sighed, of course it would have been something that he wouldn't have paid that much attention to back then. "It was used to produce antimatter."
"Well, that's interesting and all, Commander," Saber said. "But I don't quite see the relevance right now."
"I'm getting to that," the Commander said, switching the view to various exterior shots of the place where the particle-accelerator was housed.
"Wow," Ringo said, sounding honestly impressed. "That place is humongous."
"Back in the old days, they needed a bigger facility," Mac said, in the tone of someone who had remembered something relevant. "All of the anti-matter plants were large."
"This machine has not been used in some time," the Commander said. "But, the Military wants us to acquire this facility. For some reason, they want to create their own Z-tron. The problem is that the facility's automatic defense system is down."
"That's not surprising," Maggie said. "It's just so old. The wires have probably corroded by now."
"Begging the Commander's pardon," Mac said, even as Slade himself wondered just what the Military's angle was in all of this; it wasn't like them to want something for no reason. "But, if you start cooking up a batch of that antimatter, those aliens are bound to find out about it."
"You're right, Mac," the Commander said. "The energy produced while creating Z-tron is certain to attract the Radam to the facility. Your mission will be to protect the facility from the Radam, until the facility's automatic defense system can be repaired. This mission is of top priority to the Military; Star, Slade, Saber, and Ringo will protect the facility; Tina will remain here, in charge of communications; Maggie and Mac will repair the defense system. Move out."
He paused for a moment, Tina's face sticking in his mind and reminding him all too forcefully of the nightmare that he'd been having not so long ago. He stared at her, seeing her holding the bleeding, gasping, dying form of his younger twin, right up until he felt a sharp, sudden tug on his right shoulder.
"We're moving out now, big brother," Saber said; he was smirking slightly, and there was a knowing look in his eyes. "Don't space on me."
"Right," he said quickly, nodding.
As he let Saber lead him out of Comm. One and down the corridors toward Hangar Three, Slade hoped that neither of them would end up having to deal with Spear again. Slade didn't think he could handle it, and he didn't want Saber to suffer any more than he already had.
101001001011
When he'd gone to Marlowe's room, he hadn't been surprised to find his long-time friend standing in front of the large, bay windows that dominated the room. That was the main reason his old friend had chosen this place to spend the time that he wasn't working on one of his projects. Balzac was just glad that the two of them had had enough clout to pick their own quarters now rather than having them be assigned the way they had been in a few of the other bases they'd stayed in.
"I hate to say it, Balzac," Marlowe said, not even waiting for him to announce himself. "But, you know, those alien trees really spruce up these New York slums. Gives the place a little color."
"Yeah, I know what you mean," he said, looking out over the broken-down, decaying cityscape that he could see through his old friend's window. "Anything would be an improvement in this town. Still, those things give me the creeps."
Marlowe made a soft sound of agreement, and Balzac continued to stare down into the city that was laid out before him. He remembered living down there in the allies, together with Marlowe; always looking for a bit of fast cash, or an easy mark. They'd had their own little gang and everything, just them against whatever the city and its denizens could throw at them.
Right up until Mailer had sold them up the river; whenever he thought about that, Balzac would find himself hoping that his and Marlowe's ersatz friend had gotten himself eaten by a Spider-crab.
"You know," Marlowe said wistfully, his hands pressed up against the tempered, bulletproof glass. "As a little kid I used to go to that lot down there; I used to have fun playing space invaders."
"Well, I hate to break it to you, but you're still playing space invaders. The only difference is that it isn't a game anymore." He sighed, a sign of weakness that he would only show in front of Marlowe. "Come on, Marlowe, I'll buy you a drink."
He thought that they could both use one; him because he needed something to steady his nerves after being so suddenly reminded of Mailer and all the shit they'd been forced to put up with because of him. And Marlowe, well, his old friend might have been willing to put all of his time into overseeing his Sci-Division, both since he'd found his passion in life and because he was just as indebted to the AEM as Balzac himself was; but everyone needed some time off once in awhile.
"Sounds good," Marlowe said, as the two of them left the room on their way out; they'd have to stop at least one of the checkpoints and clear their leave with security so they wouldn't get hauled back in for any infractions. He'd gotten used to the system, but it still seemed like kind of a hassle when he thought too much about it; that was why he tried not to. "I know a little club not too far from here."
Shrugging, since anyone knew that he didn't pay much attention to what was going on down there in their old haunts, Balzac let Marlowe lead him. He'd joined the AEM to get away from all of the bullshit that he'd had to put up with when he and Marlowe had been surviving together on the streets; no way in hell was he ever going to give this hellhole any more of his attention than was absolutely necessary.
As he and Marlowe made their way out of the base, stopping periodically to flash their identity cards at the various personnel manning the security-checkpoints, and finally explaining to the soldiers at the last checkpoint just what they were going to be doing on their short leave, Balzac smiled softly. He might not have been overly fond of the fact that Marlowe wanted to take him back into the very place that the both of them had fought so hard to escape all those years ago, but there was some nostalgia value to it.
They'd both been born there, after all.
Leaving the base and their compatriots behind, Balzac fell in behind Marlowe as the two of them made their way into the decaying cityscape that they had both called home such a long time ago. The place hadn't changed from how he remembered it, at least if you didn't count the giant, purple trees that the Radam had seeded all over the damn place. Nothing was really different than it had been when they'd left.
Nothing, that was, except the people who were coming back.
"So, where're you taking me?" he asked, as the two of them continued on their way through the darkened allies of the slum.
"It's a great place," Marlowe assured him, pausing for a moment to let Balzac catch up. "Real Old New York; they even named it after an old Broadway show," Marlowe said, with a soft chuckle.
As the two of them continued on their way through the slums, and Balzac began to become particularly curious about just where it was that the two of them were going to end up when they finally made it to their ultimate destination, he couldn't help but take note of the people around them. Not because he particularly wanted to, but because one of them had just made himself known in the usual fashion.
"Hey, mister." It was a kid; not much older than the two of them had been when Mailer sold them out, and with that same lean, hungry look to him that Balzac had become entirely too familiar with during the years that he'd spent down in this pit. "Mister, could you spare some change?"
"Here you go, kid," Marlowe said, leaning down so he could hand some money to the urchin.
"Hey," he said, calling attention to himself after taking a few moments to think. "Why don't you go buy yourself something hot to eat?" he said, handing over what he could spare from his wallet. The kid scampered off without another word, but since he'd been in that same situation more times than he honestly wanted to remember, Balzac didn't take it personally. "This never was a good neighborhood."
"Yeah," Marlowe said, as the two of them continued on their way through the slums. "Too bad we had to grow up here."
As they passed a few more run-down buildings, and another intersection that would likely never see any cars in either of their lifetimes, Balzac began to recognize some of the few landmarks that remained in the decaying cityscape around them. "Hey, I remember this dump," he said, as they passed beneath a broken neon sign on the wall on their way down a flight of stairs that was just wide enough for the two of them to walk down side-by-side. "Does anybody come here anymore?" he muttered, as they came up to a pair of saloon-style doors.
"You'd be surprised," Marlowe said, sounding a bit nostalgic.
Balzac would have never voluntarily admitted it, and not to anyone at all besides Marlowe, but he himself was starting to feel at least something for this place. This one in particular, if not the city at large. Pushing open the right door, Balzac found that the room beyond was indeed as busy as Marlowe's earlier words had made it out to be; probably because there wasn't any other particularly accessible watering hole in this shithole of a town.
No way in hell was anyone coming down here for the ambiance.
"Now, what were you saying?" Marlowe asked, sounding vindicated. "Something about no one ever coming here anymore?"
He smirked. "This place smells like an old, moldy locker room," he said, digging out his wallet and counting out the cash he needed. "But, what the hell; we're here and I'm thirsty," he handed the cash to Marlowe. "Why don't you go to the bar and get us a couple of cool ones."
"Sure thing," Marlowe said, taking the cash from him as he moved through the crowd.
Tensing a bit as he felt someone's hand on his left shoulder, Balzac was just about to shrug the offender off when they spoke. "Hey, how ya doing?" it was a man, old-looking; white-haired with an unshaven, stubbled chin. "Um. Hey, man, would you buy me a drink? Come on, now. Whadda'ya say, my man?" the man asked, obviously trying to sound ingratiating but really only coming off as annoying. "One lousy drink?" he grinned widely, revealing several missing teeth. "Huh? Come one, whadda'ya say?"
"I know you," he said, recognition having snapped into place.
"Yeah," his "old friend" muttered. "But... um, who-"
"Take a look," he cut in, pointing to his face; while he might have been a bit irked that Mailer hadn't gotten himself killed by a Spider-crab, he'd have been lying if he said he didn't welcome the chance to get a little payback of his own. "Come on, don't you recognize me?"
"It- can't be," Mailer babbled, knocked off his feet by sheer disbelief.
"Oh, yes it can," he pressed, getting in close to the old, broken-down bum even in spite of the stench; it was one he remembered very well. "I'm Balzac. You remember me, don't you pal? The three of us used to work together."
"That's right," Marlowe added, clearly drawn by the confrontation.
"We were partners, remember? Till you ratted us out." he needled, savoring the sheer, delicious terror on Mailer's stupid-looking face. "My friend; I've so looked forward to seeing you again."
"It was awhile ago," Marlowe said, and he could feel his old friend – his true friend – leaning in closer. "We were all just kids."
He could still remember the job that they had been working: a small shop in what could have almost been called the better part of town, if one had a sick sense of humor. The three of them had been about thirteen, he thought; an estimation he made, but without the use of calendars and with no way of knowing his real birthday, he'd never know if it was true or not. Mailer had been on lookout, keeping watch for the police that patrolled the area so that none of them would be picked up.
To this day he didn't know how, exactly, Mailer had been persuaded to rat them out the way he did; he didn't really care, but this opportunity was just too good to pass up.
"Hey, man, I'm sorry," Mailer said, shaking like the terrified rat he so obviously was. "We were just kids then, you know?"
"Oh, don't apologize," Marlowe said, sounding nearly as amused as Balzac felt. "If it hadn't been for you, we wouldn't be where we are today."
"That's right," he added. "If you hadn't ratted on us that night, we might've ended up like you."
"You did us a favor," Marlowe said, over Mailer's gasp.
He remembered that night particularly well: Gault had come into the prison, smiling down on them in their little cell like they were the most amusing thing that he'd seen in a long time. He didn't know what rank the General had had when he'd taken them out, most of the niggling details of the night his life began not having stuck around through all of the intervening years, but the big events – his training, Marlowe's evaluation, their shared promises – would be something that he would remember for the rest of his life.
"When the police came for us that night, and we were taken to prison, we almost thought that that would be the end of our lives," Marlowe said; he was overstating it for effect, since the both of them had already started planning their breakout once the guards had left them alone, but Balzac wasn't about to say anything. All the better if Mailer thought they had given up. "Then, someone came for us; we didn't know his name, not back then, but he was the man who changed our lives. He worked for the Allied Earth Military."
"So, he took us in, and we started to train for undercover work," he continued, setting in behind the bar as he and Marlowe brought Mailer over, looking into Mailer's dull, frightened eyes so that he wouldn't end up getting lost in memories; those were some of the best times of his life, even if they had been some of the hardest. "First, we had to take a few tests. Then, they took us to a top-secret military installation and analyzed our potential. They found that Marlowe had an IQ of 180. And, they were so impressed with my ability to pick pockets and my nerves of steel that they trained me to be an undercover spy."
"We had no parents, nor any relatives," Marlowe said, in a tone that would have let a more intelligent person know that there was something up. "We were always hungry and cold, but our futures were secure, thanks to you turning us in that one time."
"That's right," he added, smiling in what anyone else would take to be an expression of happiness; and he was happy, just not about what Mailer had been lead to believe. "So, you see, this is really a celebration," he said, having just noticed Marlowe "fixing" Mailer's drink. "It's party time; drink up."
"Thanks," Mailer said, not suspecting a thing; the rat was about to get what was coming to him. "Thanks a lot."
"To Mailer," he said, as he, Marlowe, and a certain dead rat toasted.
"Thanks again," Mailer said, having finished his glass in one gulp; watching as Mailer started choking on the little "pick me up" that Marlowe had slipped into his drink, Balzac smiled.
"You're welcome," he said to the corpse. "It's always nice, running into an "old friend" like you."
"He's no fun," Marlowe said, holding up his own glass of whiskey. "He just fell right over."
"That's our way of saying thanks for ratting on us that time, old pal," he said, smirking down at the corpse. "The jerk should have known we'd catch up with him, eventually. Yeah, here's to you "old pal", so nice running into you again."
Barking a harsh chuckle, morbidly amused by the circumstances of their meeting here but amused all the same, Balzac smiled over at Marlowe as the two of them toasted each other at last.
1010010010
Muttering to herself as she continued checking the archaic systems that made up the defense-grid for this Texan antimatter-plant, Maggie sighed. She and Mac definitely had their work cut out for them.
"These circuits are a mess," Mac groused, from his position underneath one of the large banks of controls.
"You can say that again," she said, looking into the open panel at the top. "I'm going to have to rewire some of this stuff."
"Yeah, I know," Mac answered. "It certainly would help to have a schematic of the wiring, but it seems like that's too much to ask. What a lot of useless junk!"
"Hey, in its day, it was state-of-the-art," she said off-handedly, continuing to mentally catalogue the wires, circuits, and conduits of the array she and Mac were currently working on. Most of them were hopelessly out of date; in their day they would have been easy to repair, but considering both the depletion of resources due to the war, and the fact that technology had inevitably advanced in the years since these plants had been shut down, Maggie knew that she and Mac were going to be doing one heck of a lot of improvising while they worked.
She just hoped that it would be enough.
00010010100
Listening to Saber's deep, quiet breathing coming from behind him, Slade reflected that it had been a good idea for them to sleep in shifts: nothing had happened so far, but with the threat of Spider-crabs attacking at any time, Slade knew that both of them needed to be in good condition to be able to fight them. And, even though they hadn't had time to have a meal in the cafeteria like he knew the both of them would have honestly preferred, both he and Saber had both taken an extra box of rations when they'd come into the Blue Earth.
Now, with the ship patrolling the skies over the antimatter plant, and his younger twin dozing behind him, Slade found himself wondering just when the Radam were going to come. He knew they would; the energy that Mac and the Commander had said that this plant would be generating during its operation notwithstanding, the place was an obvious target for attacks. The fact that he and Saber were both right there would only sweeten the deal.
"What about the defense-system?" Star asked, continuing a conversation that Slade hadn't been paying much attention to. "Have you repaired it?"
"This system's really messed-up; I'm afraid it's going to take us longer than we originally planned," Mac reported. "We're going to need at least a couple more hours."
"Well, the Military hasn't arrived yet," Ringo said, not sounding particularly happy about the situation; Slade didn't blame him a bit. "We're out here on our own, so hurry it up."
"Just hope you finish before the aliens arrive," Star said, sounding like she was trying to make a joke; none of them were really in the mood for gallows-humor, though, at least not anyone who was actually awake.
"We'll do our best," Mac said, sounding as serious as Slade had ever heard him. "But, as you all know, there's not much time."
"Hey, Slade," Maggie said, having shoved Mac aside as she leaned in closer to the comm. screen. "How are you and Saber doing?"
"We're fine," he said. "Saber's sleeping right now, so you'll have to wait till later if you want to talk to him."
"Aww," Maggie cooed, smiling widely. "Can I see him; I'll bet he looks adorable."
"You should see those two when they curl up together after a bad day," Ringo said, before Slade himself could think of a way to respond to that. "They look just like a pair of kittens. I'd have gotten a picture, if certain people hadn't broken my camera."
"Ringo, I have it on good authority that Saber's going to kick your ass if you ever try something like that again," he said, looking back over his right shoulder at the Blue Earth's pilot. "And, if he doesn't, I will."
Maggie's laughter was cut off when Mac terminated the connection. Settling more comfortably in the chair, at least as well as he could given the materials it was made of, Slade looked back out the forward windows. The sun was setting, spreading oranges, pinks, and reds into the sky, and he wished for a moment that he and Saber could have been watching it together; somewhere far away from anything that would try to hurt them. Somewhere far from the Radam and the war raging all around them.
"Are you feeling all right, Slade?" Star asked, bringing his focus back to what was happening here and now.
Here and now was all that he and Saber really had, anymore; Slade forced himself to remember that again. "I'm fine," he said, still looking up into the darkening sky. "I think I might switch places with Saber soon, though. I don't want to end up getting too tired."
Turning his chair around so he could get a better view of his younger twin, Slade paused for a second just to look at him. Saber looked so peaceful when he slept, and for all that Slade didn't want to disturb him, he knew that Saber wouldn't be particularly happy with him if he let himself get too tired. Saber never liked it when Slade tried to protect him, at least not when Slade forgot to look after his own health in the process.
For a moment, Slade was tempted to wake his brother by flicking Saber's nose; that was really more like something Ness or Cain Carter would have done. Saber might have done it, too, just because that was the kind of harmless thing that his younger twin would do to brake up the tension. And Slade was starting to get a bit tense, knowing that he and Saber would soon be facing more of Darkon's Spider-crabs; after the dream he'd had this morning, Slade still felt a bit uneasy.
He knew dreams weren't real, but he couldn't help how he felt.
"Saber," he called, reaching out to shake his brother's left shoulder. "Saber, it's time for us to change shifts."
Saber yawned, blinking and tilting his head a bit as he stretched. "All right," Saber said, rising from his seat as the two of them traded places.
Settling himself down in Saber's usual seat, Slade leaned back and tried to relax. His memory of the dream he'd had made it hard for him to relax, but Slade did as best he could. Closing his eyes, Slade tried to block out everything that might keep him from relaxing. It wasn't as easy as he would have preferred, but he was eventually able to do it.
1110101001
As he made himself as comfortable as possible in Slade's recently-vacated seat, Saber stifled a yawn. He'd still need a little time to wake up completely, but he was at least reasonably sure that he would be able to get the chance. He hadn't been sensing any Radam activity while he'd been dozing in his usual seat, and while he knew that that wasn't the end of things, Saber was willing to let himself relax as much as he could.
"How're you holding up, Saber?" Ringo asked.
"I'm all right," he said, shifting his seat so he could stretch his legs a bit more. "I think I could use a bit more time to wake up, though."
"Well, I don't know if you'll be getting it," Ringo muttered. "Those aliens could be coming at any minute."
"Yeah," he muttered, watching as the last of the light faded from the sky. "I know."
It was full night by this time, the stars starting to blink on in the sky one-by-one as the sky around them grew darker. Turning his chair a bit so he could look over his right shoulder at Slade, Saber found that his brother was sleeping, though he didn't look entirely peaceful. But then, Saber would have been hard-pressed to name a time when his brother had looked entirely peaceful these days.
Something else that could be blamed on the Radam, he knew; they had a lot to answer for.
As the Blue Earth continued on her appointed patrol rounds, Saber found himself wondering if - for once - the AEM's forces were going to get to them before the Radam had the chance to start falling out of the sky to kill them all. It would have definitely been a welcome change of pace, even if they did all seem to share Gault's personality problems.
"Too quiet," Ringo muttered, and in front of him, Saber winced; that wasn't ever really a good thing to say. "Almost like the calm before the storm."
And then, almost as if they'd just been waiting for someone to say something stupid like that, Saber began sensing a large swarm of Spider-crabs descending rapidly. Seconds later, the warning alarms tied into the Blue Earth's radar went off, and Star's voice rang out: "Alien bandits at one 'o'clock! There must be an entire squadron of them! They're heading straight for us, and they're coming fast! Prepare to engage! Mac and Maggie, we've got a lot of company, you'd better watch yourselves! On your order, Commander!"
"Attack," Commander Jamison said, his calm coming in loud and clear over the comm.
"Be careful out there, you guys," Tina said. "Good luck, Blue Earth."
"Thanks," Saber said, already rising from his seat. "Slade," he called, grabbing his brother's shoulder and giving it a good shake. "Time to get going, brother. I don't think the Spider-crabs are going to wait for us."
Slade's eyes opened, and his older twin paused for a moment, looking at him with an expression that Saber didn't really have the time to stop and puzzle over. "They're here?" Slade asked after a blink, though it sounded more like a statement.
"A lot of them," he answered, nodding once. "Let's get going."
"Right."
His older twin seemed to have gotten over whatever it was that had been bothering him a lot quicker than he had the last time he'd been having trouble, but as the two of them made their way into the Blue Earth's airlock, Saber made up his mind that he would keep an eye on Slade as best he could. It was always possible that Slade was shoving his problems aside so Saber would know to worry about him. Leave it to my dearest spaz to make trouble for himself that way, Saber mused, rolling his eyes briefly.
When the airlock doors had sealed shut behind them the way they always did, Saber concentrated briefly, retrieving his teknocrystal from its usual resting place; wherever the hell that was. Taking a few seconds to make sure that Slade was getting into Pegas, and finding that his spaz of a twin brother actually was, Saber breathed a short sigh of relief; it looked like he wasn't going to have to knock some sense into Slade the way he'd been starting to think he would.
"Tekno-power!" he shouted, holding up his crystal the way he always did.
Pacing Pegas as his brother's battle-robot made its way out among the Spider-crabs that were basically raining out of the sky, Saber landed on the back of it in his full armor, just as the top hatch burst open and Slade flew out. Watching as his older twin did his usual pre-battle flip, landing on Pegas' back just in front of him, Saber drew his teknolance just before Slade did the same.
(Saber?)
(I'm here, brother,) he said, trying to sound calm; Slade had sounded a bit too tense for his peace of mind. (What's up?)
(Just... just stay close, all right?)
(Brother, you know I love you,) he said, as the two of them riding Pegas made it into the main bulk of the descending Spider-crab swarm. (But you worry entirely too much.) Leaping from Pegas' back, aiming for a particularly thick knot of Spider-crabs, he tossed off a salute with his teknolance. (Catch up with you in a bit, big brother!)
Hacking and slashing his way through the knot of Spider-crabs in front of him, Saber darted through the air quickly, seeking out particularly thick-clustered groups of Spider-crabs; he knew that Slade wasn't at his best for the moment, so Saber was going to do what he could to support him. It was what they always did for each other, and he wasn't about to start slacking off now.
1001001001
Watching Saber, as his younger twin ripped through the Spider-crabs all around him like cheap cloth, Slade once again found himself amazed by his brother's resilience. They'd both had a bad time with Darkon's forces, and Saber had nearly been killed just a couple days ago, but there he was, taking on the Spider-crabs like he didn't have a care in the world. I'll watch your back, brother, he vowed silently, gripping the shaft of his teknolance all the tighter. Thanks for showing me the way.
Directing Pegas into the main swarm, making sure to stay out of Saber's way as his younger twin darted all over the sky in his pursuit of the Spider-crabs he was hunting, Slade raised his own teknolance and began to attack. Shaking off a flash from his nightmare last night, having seen Star in place of one of his targets, Slade bisected the Spider-crab and quickly moved on.
The sight of a nearby Spider-crab exploding when he wasn't near it, and Saber was clear on the other side of him, prompted Slade to look back down along the trajectory of the shot. He didn't know just what he'd been expecting to see down there, but he was still surprised to see Maggie sitting behind a large anti-aircraft gun, waving up at them.
(Hey, brother,) Saber called, sounding amused. (I think Maggie wants to get in on the action, too.)
(Yeah, I saw,) he said, waving to Maggie from his position on Pegas' back; he might not have needed the help, but it was always nice to have someone else on his side.
Turning his attention back to the Spider-crabs that were still swarming all around them, occasionally pausing to shake off yet another flash from his nightmare - it seemed like they were getting worse, but since Saber was still fighting, he wasn't going to say anything - Slade continued to batter, slice, and slash his way through the still-descending swarm; the only thing that he could really find it in himself to be thankful for was the fact that Spear wasn't attacking right now.
Moving a bit slower as his mental fatigue began to take its toll - even with his personal vow not to let what he was seeing affect him, cutting through what looked like his friends and fellow Space Knights was still difficult for him - Slade stopped dead in mid-swing as he saw Saber right in front of him. His younger twin was bleeding out through a deep gash in his stomach, and there was blood spilling out over his lower lip and down his chin.
Just as he was about to reach out for Saber, to carry his younger twin back to the Blue Earth and demand that Ringo fly them all back to the Command Center as fast as he could, something ripped through his younger twin's body. When the cloud that had been thrown up around Saber and whatever it was that had just murdered him - whatever Slade was going to kill next - Slade saw... Saber, in full armor and with his teknolance still bared.
(Is your brain still working in there, big brother?) Saber asked, as Slade heard armored knuckles rapping on his helmet. (It was just a Spider-crab.)
(Sorry,) he said, feeling sheepish for falling for another hallucination when he'd been doing all right against them beforehand.
(Well, don't freak out on me, spaz,) Saber chided; Slade looked down slightly, embarrassed. (There's still a lot more here that we have to take care of.)
(Right,) he said, sighing briefly as he turned his attention back outward. (Thanks for your help, Saber.)
(No problem, brother.)
Steeling himself again against what he was going to be facing, Slade glanced back down at Maggie just in time to see the anti-aircraft gun that she had been manning explode pretty spectacularly. "Maggie!"
(I've got this, brother,) Saber called. (You just keep the rest of those Spider-crabs off my back.)
(Right,) he said, nodding sharply as he raised his teknolance. (Just be careful down there, little brother.)
Saber chuckled. (I will.)
01010010010
As he dove down to where Maggie was laying after she'd been blown free of the anti-aircraft gun she'd been using to take out some of the swarming Spider-crabs, Saber decided that it would be better for him if he transformed back. He was starting to feel a bit worn out, and while he could have continued fighting for a few more minutes more before he really started to run out of strength in any meaningful way, but Maggie looked injured, so it was probably better that he shed the armor; both so that he would have more energy, and so that he wouldn't have to deal with the extra bulk while he was trying to work.
Landing on the tarmac about ten or so feet from where Maggie sat, not having wanted to risk drawing the attention of any Spider-crabs that might have tried to follow him down to where she was, and not wanting to chance her getting burned by his thruster-backwash as he landed, Saber let his transformation fade and ran over to where Maggie was sprawled. He was just about to call to her, to ask her if she was more injured than she looked, when he saw the blood leaking from her knee.
"Hey, Mags," he said, trying to project calm with his voice as he knelt down next to her legs. "Thanks for all the help you gave us out there," he smiled, feeling reassured when Maggie smiled back at him.
"It was nothing, really," Maggie said, clearly more focused on him than on the injury to her leg that he was checking out as they spoke. "I wasn't about to let those nasty old crab-creatures hurt my Teknomen."
Saber laughed; he couldn't help it, that was just such a "Maggie" thing to say. "Well, why don't you just sit back and let someone help you now, eh?"
"No objections here," Maggie said wryly.
Taking off his Space Knight vest, tossing it to Maggie with a quick request for her to hold it, Saber shucked his shirt and grabbed the bottom of it. Tearing a few strips off, since there was nothing else for him to use for bandages out here and no real way for him to flag down the Blue Earth in time for anyone onboard to be of much help, Saber tossed his shirt over once he was finished with it.
When he'd made what he felt was at least a passable bandage, at least something that would hold until they all made it back to the Command Center where Maggie could have her wound checked out by one of the doctors, Saber looked back up to ask for his shirt back. That was when Maggie pounced.
As their lips met in one of the more aggressive kisses that Saber had been given over the course of his life, Saber at first thought that it was her way of thanking him; it really was something that fit with the kind of person that Maggie had shown herself to be. Still, after a few moments, when Maggie had wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled him close, and more than that when she seemed to be trying to count his molars with her tongue, Saber started to think that he really shouldn't let her take this whole thing any farther than she obviously was.
1010010010
When Saber had transformed out of his large, imposing Teknoman form in front of her, she'd been happy to see him. Sure, there were hundreds of Spider-crabs in the air all around them, descending down on them like the walls of any number of collapsing buildings, and the Blue Earth and Slade were both circling over them in an effort to fight them off, but with Saber in front of her things didn't seem so bad.
Then, when Saber had sat down next to her and started ripping his vest and shirt off, she'd been even happier to see him there. Watching as Saber bandaged her bleeding knee, her right hand resting on the clothes he had taken off, Maggie glanced down at the white shirt that Saber had tossed into her lap. While Saber continued to work on patching up her leg, she picked up the shirt that Saber had left with her. Inhaling the soft, musky scent that he'd left on the piece of clothing that he'd been wearing, Maggie smiled; she'd never had the chance to get this close to Slade.
When Saber looked up, obviously meaning to ask for the rest of his clothes back, she leaned forward and gave him a deep, long kiss. Moving forward slightly, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in a bit closer so she could kiss him more deeply. Opening one eye as she heard the shrieks of Spider-crabs and the distinctive sounds of the Blue Earth's laser-cannons firing, she caught sight of something that was completely, utterly out of place.
It looked like some kind of a Teknoman, but that wasn't possible; Slade was still in the air, though it looked like he was more interested in keeping an eye on them than in hunting down the rest of the Spider-crabs circling around them; and Saber was... well, busy at the moment. The not-a-Teknoman was shooting down any Spider-crab that got in its range, occasionally stopping to look down at them.
When she inevitably loosened her grip on Saber, her attention having been effectively distracted by the strange, inexplicable apparition in front of her, Saber sat back on his knees and gave her a lopsided sort of smile.
"Well, that was certainly different," he said, then he seemed to notice what she was staring at. "Hey, Mags, what is it? Is there something interesting behind-"
Saber stopped there, having turned around to look at the not-a-Teknoman that was standing atop the building behind them. She didn't know where it had come from, or what it wanted, but since it had been destroying Spider-crabs, that meant that there wasn't much chance that it was affiliated with the Radam. Still, that did beg the question of just where this not-a-Teknoman - whatever it actually was - had come from.
