Episode 52
Part XIII - "Boot to the Head"
"There's something about getting back to nature, isn't there, Georges?"
Camus stands with his face turned towards the gentle Alaskan breeze and looks out over the vista before him. Georges, kneeling down beside a piece of machinery, is not about breezes or vistas at the moment.
Georges
Mm.
Camus
The wide-open meadows, the crystal sky, the
plague of gnats... I feel as my mythological forebears must have done, Chiron
and his ilk, as they gamboled with the nymphs and satyrs in the hills and
forests of Ancient Greece...
Georges
Needle-nosed pliers.
Camus
What?
Georges
I said I need the needle-nosed
pliers!
Camus
What am I, your scrub nurse? I'm getting pastoral
here.
Georges looks up from his work.
Georges
Yeah, and I asked you to pass the damned
needle-nosed pliers!
Camus sighs and looks around him. Spying the pliers on the ground in front of him, he kicks them towards Georges with a hoof. Georges shoots a dagger-laden look at him and stretches to retrieve the pliers.
Camus
Georges, you have no poetry in your soul. We,
this pipeline, all the works of man that we can see, are dwarfed by the purity
and simplicity of this Alaskan landscape, and all you can think about is that
ball of wires and putty in your hands.
Georges
One of us had better be thinking about it, or
one of two things happen: the bombs don't go off at all, or they go off right
here with us. Either way, we end up dead.
Camus
I do admire your professionalism, Georges. But I
do regret that you cannot step back for just a second and see the
moment.
Georges makes a sound of disgust and turns back to his work. Why they even bothered to go to the expense of hauling the horse's ass all the way up here when he wasn't contributing anything useful was beyond him. With the pliers, he twists two more wires together, and the device is complete. Lifting the palm-sized contraption carefully, he wedges it up above the tracks of the front-end loader. About half the machines at the construction site had been mined (no pun intended) - cela suffira, he concludes.
He stands up, brushing the dirt off his knees.
Georges
Is the bullet ready to go?
Camus
Hm? Oh, yes. All we have to do is wait for
Kentaro's signal.
They stand at the present construction site. The pipeline, just over a meter-wide, is more-or-less complete behind them, and stretches down the hill and back towards the settlement of Rousseau Bay. The "bullet" Georges is referring to is a pod-like contraption about two meters long and only slightly slimmer than the pipeline's diameter. Packed with sensors, the bullet is fired down the pipeline pneumatically and used to test for weak points. In the pipeline's current partially-completed state, however, it's more like a battering-ram waiting to happen. Which is precisely how the majority stockholders of Chimera, Inc. intend to use it...
Georges looks over the bullet, checking its travel worthiness. Camus gives him an exasperated look.
Camus
It's not being used for precision work, Georges.
A red light here and there won't matter.
Georges
You think we should mine it, too?
Camus
That'd be overkill, I think. It'll do enough
damage the way it is. Let's start laying charges along the pipeline itself,
we've only got forty-minutes before the chopper comes back... What?
Georges stands perfectly still, nose in the air. He sniffs around, as if trying to recapture a passing scent on the wind.
Georges
Just now... did you catch that scent?
Camus's sense of smell in nowhere near as sharp as Georges, but still surpasses the human norm. He sniffs tentatively with his human nose, and shakes his head.
Camus
Nothing... What is it?
Georges draws his sidearm, a Brigadier.45 like Kentaro's. He scans the horizon, looking...
Georges
We're not alone...
Some things Camus knows not to argue with him. He pulls his own weapon, a Glock 18 "Mini-lop". His sight and smell are not as sharp as Georges, but their hearing is equal.
Cautiously, they spread out, alert for any sign of movement or scent of their prey. Georges sifts the air for what he smelled before - an animal scent, a human scent. Now he smells grasses, flowers, mildew, a faint trace of small rodent...
The grass rustles deliberately a few feet away. He whirls and fires.
Instinctively, Camus turns and fires at the same target, his gunshots an echo of Georges's. A brace of ptarmigan flutter away for dear life. Camus makes a disgusted sound and lowers his gun.
Camus
Dammit, Georges!
He gestures wildly, completely unaware of the cloud of colourless, odourless gas condensing beside him.
Camus
If the entire fucking TUNDRA didn't know we were
here before, they --
A blur of silvery blue and wood flashes before him, and his gun is neatly sliced in half. He turns to see Hydrogen Guy beside him, holding the Ruler of Elendil.
Hydrogen Guy
-- do now.
Camus swings the butt of his ruined gun at Hydrogen Guy's head. He ducks and hurls himself against Camus's front flank. Camus is again caught by surprise and the two topple over. Hydrogen Guy isn't quick enough to extricate himself, however, and a colossal blow from Camus's front hooves sends him flying. He hits the ground hard several meters away.
At the moment Hydrogen Guy appears beside Camus, Deuterium Boy materializes just behind Georges. He grabs his gun-arm and tries to wrench the weapon loose, but Georges's strength, while not quite as superhuman as Camus's, is certainly enough to flip Deuterium Boy easily over his head. As he hits the ground, Georges fires point blank; only a roll at super-atomic speeds saves Deuterium Boy. He uses his momentum to kick Georges' legs out from under him, and then Georges, like Camus, topples over.
Hydrogen Guy manages to shake off the hard landing and gets quickly to his feet. He regrets it painfully - it feels as if Camus's kick broke a rib or three. He grits his teeth and tries to remember the mid-battle meditation exercises Doug taught him for this sort of occasion.
Camus grins wryly at him.
Camus
Well, Hydrogen Guy. I guess you could call this
our first proper meeting. We were too busy throwing bullets and flaming tires
around last time.
He canters over to the pipe-line and grabs hold of a heavy iron support bar. His arm muscles barely strain as he tears it free from the pipeline and its cement foundation, and then hefts it two handed like a broadsword.
Camus
Now, let's do this properly.
Expertly swinging the make-shift weapon, he attacks. Hydrogen Guy barely has time to shift his stance to a heavy-fighting position - holding the Ruler with both hands, legs spread for better support against more powerful blows. Camus has both a height and a strength advantage, forcing Hydrogen Guy to use his superior speed defensively. He dodges Camus's body-crushing blows, using the Ruler to deflect, not to block.
Hydrogen Guy
Damn, you're not half bad at this...
You've done more than just watch a lot of Tarantino like your buddies, haven't
you?
Camus
Uh! Yes, I was .. unh! ... in Dagorhir back in
college.
Hydrogen Guy
Huh. I thought your style was too good for
SCA...
He ducks as Camus swings, narrowly missing his head. Bits of yellow down float to earth as he pops back up.
Hydrogen Guy
You bastard! That was my
feather!
Camus
Life is hard.
As Deuterium Boy well knows. Seconds after he and Georges hit the ground, Georges springs on him. Deuterium Boy struggles to keep Georges' vicious jaws from his throat.
Deuterium Boy
Jeez, ever heard of Milk-Bone,
buddy?
Georges
Georges makes a short range lunge, just as Deuterium Boy dissolves into a cloud of gas. Georges scrambles to his feet and searches for his opponent. Deuterium Boy solidifies behind him again, and aims a blow with a Deuterium-O-Rang at Georges's head. But Georges's superior hearing picks up the sudden blockage of sound behind him. He turns and swings at Deuterium Boy, catching him in the midriff just as he raises the bludgeon. Deuterium Boy crumples from the sheer force of the metahuman punch. Georges hits him with an uppercut to the jaw which sends Deuterium Boy flying. He knocks his head against the sensor bullet, lying ready beside the pipeline. His head swims and he loses consciousness.
Georges aims his .45 at the prone Deuterium Boy. He glances up as a clang of metal against metal catches his attention - Camus and Hydrogen Guy continue fighting several hundred feet away. He shoves his gun in his pocket and goes for the sensor bullet. He throws open the top hatch and starts pulling sensor equipment out by force. Next he picks up the still-unconscious Deuterium Boy and stuffs him into the bullet. He slams the lid shut, and grunting with effort, lifts the bullet into the pipeline.
Near the pipeline are the controls for the pneumatic bullet system. Georges stabs at the controls; in a few seconds, the bullet starts slowly moving, then picks up speed and goes rumbling down the pipeline.
Georges
CAMUS! HE'S IN THE BULLET!
Camus hears Georges's cry just as he swings at Hydrogen Guy. He nearly stumbles as he's carried by the momentum of the iron girder. Hydrogen Guy presses the momentary advantage, slicing at the bar as it flies wild, slicing it in two with the magically-enhanced Ruler. Camus lashes out with the remains of the bar, still a formidable club, but Hydrogen Guy dodges. Suddenly the meaning of Georges's cryptic message becomes clear to Camus, and he laughs.
Camus
Did you hear that, Hydrogen Guy? Your partner's
trapped in a coffin shooting a hundred kilometers an hour towards the pumping
station. Superpowers or not, that's bound to be a messy collision.
Hydrogen Guy barely has time to think as gunshots whiz past his head. Camus leaps aside.
Camus
Georges, you idiot! Watch where you're shooting!
AAGH!
Suddenly a heavy weight falls on his back and the Ruler of Elendil is at his throat. A hydrogen-powered leap lands Hydrogen Guy astride his back. Camus tries to twist around to get at him, shake him off, but Hydrogen Guy holds fast. The Ruler's razor-sharp edge presses against Camus's Adam's apple.
Hydrogen Guy
Stop the bullet. NOW.
Camus
I don't think it can be! Urk! Hydrogen Guy, this
isn't terribly... heroic...
Hydrogen Guy
Now might be a good time for me to tell
you how much stress you've added to my life recently. Tell Chouinard to drop the
gun and shut it down before I give you a tracheotomy...
Camus
I told you! I don't think that's
possible...
Georges carefully lines up Hydrogen Guy in his sights. One slight tremor, and he could easily hit Camus as well as their enemy.
He smiles. Well, accidents happen.
Camus
Georges! What the hell are you doing?!
Georges fires.
*blurt!* work should begin this weekend, and city officials are planning on unveiling the 'New Beast' by the end of the summer. These stories, sports, and weather on the Vole's News in fifteen minutes."
"And of course, everyone knows what's coming up in the next thirty minutes, don't they Jerry?"
"That's right, Billy -- the next clue in the Vole's FIND FIFTY --" THUMP!
Norman pounded on the radio's snooze button and fell back into bed. Why he still listened to that station, after what it had put him through, he didn't understand. Hell, he didn't know why he'd even set the alarm, seeing as how he had no job to try to arrive on time for.
He lay back and stared at the ceiling. What a horrible, horrible week. It wasn't surprising he had had such strange dreams in the night, dreams where a giant talking pie had told him to go to San Francisco. Not a bad idea, he thought, but the last thing he needed, debt-ridden and unemployed, was to spend money on a vacation he couldn't afford, especially one recommended to him by some kind of psychedelic pastry.
He sighed. He turned over and looked at the giant set of metal lips and teeth that sat on his bedside table.
Norman
Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to chew
with your mouth open?
Ha, ha.
Norman was about to turn back and try and fall back to sleep, when he stopped. He'd never actually looked at the Beast's mouth from this odd angle before, and he saw something he hadn't before. He reached out and picked up the mouth-piece, peering at it. Yes, he hadn't been seeing things; something was stuck inside the mouth.
He sat up and stuck his hand inside. There wasn't much room, and if he wanted to grab the whatever it was, he could only fish around with two fingers. He finally got a grip on the foreign object, which felt like paper or cardboard. He pulled it out - it was an envelope.
On the front of the envelope was the annoying rat-like logo of 93.9 the Vole (Maple Ridge's alleged home of real rock). He tore open the envelope and two pieces of paper fluttered out.
One was a letter of congratulations which contained the Vole's super-secret hot-line number. The other was a check for $50,000.
Norman smiled. He crumpled the letter and threw it across the room. The cheque he put carefully on the bedside table, and then placed the ex-Beast's mouth-piece on top of it like an over-sized executive paperweight. Then he lay back down, rolled over and went back to sleep.
Hydrogen Guy leaps off Camus's back, spins around in mid-air, and deflects Georges's shot with the Ruler. The bullet flies off the Ruler, then ricochets off the metal pipeline ten meters further down. Georges's gun flies out of his hand and he yelps. Blood soaking through his shirt, he clutches his arm and buckles over.
Hydrogen Guy
Couldn't have called that much better
myself...
Camus makes a leap for him. Hydrogen Guy dodges, but Camus lands a punch to his torso. Hydrogen Guy cries out as his already broken ribs are snapped again. He slams to the ground, dropping the Ruler. Camus brings his forward hoof down on top of it. Hydrogen Guy looks up through a haze as Camus pulls a small pistol from a holster strapped to the inside of his left foreleg, cocks it, and aims it at him.
Camus
Not a bad effort, Hydrogen Guy, but today "not
bad" doesn't cut it. You have to be spectacular.
Hydrogen Guy grimaces. Managing to focus his concentration, he dissolves again into a cloud of invisible hydrogen gas. Camus curses and fires. He spins around , looking for where his opponent might reappear.
Camus
You can only pull that trick so many times,
Hydrogen Guy! Materialize, dammit!
He starts circling, looking every way around him. The Ruler he leaves lying on the ground. Exactly what Hydrogen Guy is waiting for.
The hydrogen gas starts to eddy like a whirlwind around the Ruler, increasing in speed. The air is pulled along with it, and a dervish forms, spinning faster and faster, contracting into a narrow funnel. Loose debris, rocks, twigs, and finally the Ruler itself are sucked up into the miniature tornado. Camus finally notices it, and fires two shots at it, which, of course, do absolutely nothing. The hydrogen-powered whirlwind keeps growing tighter and tighter, and shooting the collected bits of debris out the top. Finally it hurls the Ruler away, sending it arcing high up into the air.
The Ruler plunges into the curve of Camus's back where his human torso meets his horse body. Camus screams in agony, staggers and stumbles over a rock. His body crashes to the ground.
The whirlwind suddenly peters out, and the remaining pieces of flying debris drop to the ground. The solid Hydrogen Guy materializes on his knees, drops to his hands, and is sick. He mutters one of Doug's mantras between clenched teeth, and gradually the nausea subsides and the intense pain in his chest fades to a dull ache. Convenient, those alien Zen tricks...
He pulls himself to his feet with effort and heads for the control board. Numerous lights show the bullet with Deuterium Boy still speeding towards the end.
Hydrogen Guy
Sure, leave the theorist to figure out the
damned instrument panel...
He sees a set of controls marked "Sensor", but he can't figure out what they do. He starts hammering them randomly, but they don't seem to do anything but change the display on the small LCD screen. Suddenly, he's grabbed from behind. A strong arm grabs him around the neck.
Georges
Move and I'll rip out your throat,
motherfu--er.
Hydrogen Guy feels his breath against the back of his neck. He tries to dissolve again, but no dice. Two dissolutions already in the last twenty minutes, plus his injuries, have drained him for the moment.
Hydrogen Guy
For Einstein's sake, don't you guys ever
stay down?
Georges
We are gonna wait until your partner hits the
end of the line. Then, I hit this button.
Hydrogen Guy notices a remote control unit in his hand. Georges other arm hangs limp and blood-soaked at his side.
Georges
Then the bombs behind you go off.
Hydrogen Guy
That'll kill both of us.
Georges
I don't leave a mission until it is finished.
URRK!
Georges stiffens, and his grip loosens on Hydrogen Guy's neck. Hydrogen Guy elbows him in the stomach and tears himself loose. He turns to see Camus standing shakily behind him, pulling the bloody Ruler of Elendil out of Georges's back. Georges slumps to the ground.
Hydrogen Guy looks up at Camus. The left front side of his horse body is covered in blood. He drops the Ruler.
Camus
I'm a businessman, not a fanatic. I'm willing to
cut my losses here and survive.
Hydrogen Guy
Smart move.
The sound of helicopters above draw their attention. Two black helicopters, with the bright yellow letters "FBI" circle overhead, then settle in for a landing. Doors open in the side and troops in black bullet-proof vests with powerful rifles start pouring out. They surround Hydrogen Guy and Camus, shouting over the chopper's propellers for them to raise their hands. They wisely comply.
Two men in suits push through the circle of troops and head towards them. They look like a serious-minded Abbot and Costello. The tall one is white with close-cropped blond hair; the other Hydrogen Guy guesses is a Native, with darker skin, short black hair, and a thin, neat mustache. They both have hand-guns drawn. Two troopers follow them in, keeping Hydrogen Guy and Camus covered.
The short agent shouts at Hydrogen Guy.
Dean
Hydrogen Guy?!
Hydrogen Guy
Speaking!
He gestures to the two troopers, who turn their attention exclusively to Camus. The tall blond grabs his hands and forces them behind his head, and slaps a pair of hand-cuffs on them. With a jerk of his head he directs Camus and the troopers back towards the chopper. Camus woozily complies.
Dean
My name is Dean, FBI for NAFTAPOL. That's
Nordstrom, from the SHVD. What's happened?
Hydrogen Guy
Get to the Rousseau Bay station! Deuterium
Boy's in a sensor bullet, he'll be killed if it hits!
Dean
Don't worry, we've got someone there. I meant
this.
He nudges Georges with his foot. Georges eyes flutter briefly.
Hydrogen Guy
We'd just finished our discussion. They've
mined the equipment, maybe the pipeline.
Dean nods.
Dean
You'd better come with us.
Deuterium Boy floated hazily between the conscious and unconscious states. He felt like he was moving, very fast. Georges had hit him hard, but it was the lack of air in the coffin-like capsule that kept him from coming fully to.
Pipeline... Hydrogen Guy... Chimera...
Don't worry, whispered the Cosmic Pie. It will be all right. It's all taken care of. Have another slice.
Have another ... ?
The capsule jolts. He feels it slowing down. Another jolt. Another. What ... ? Braking jets, whispered the Pie. The bullet is being slowed down, there's someone at the terminus who knows what he's doing. You probably won't die. Now, about that slice?
I probably won't die? His eyes tore open as the capsule jolted again.
He finds himself staring at the lid a few centimeters above him. What the HELL...
Suddenly the bullet upends itself. His head hits the ground with a jolt, and his vision swam again.
See, said the Pie. You're not --
The lid cracks open. Deuterium Boy finds himself staring up at the ground. Somebody bursts out laughing in front of him.
He looks "down". The bullet is propped upside-down at the mouth of the pipeline. Right in front of him is what looks like a maintenance shed of some kind, a stack of gas tanks next to it. Christopher Ford is nearly doubled over with laughter at the door to the shed.
Deuterium Boy
Wha...? Ford!
Ford bats his arm in his direction.
Deuterium Boy
Stop laughing and help me!
With concerted effort, Ford pulls himself together. He trots over to the capsule.
Ford
Sorry.. he he.. you should see yourself, though...
oof!
He struggles to shove the high end of the bullet over. It crashes to the ground, eliciting a yelp of protest from Deuterium Boy. Ford gives him a hand and he struggles out of the bullet.
Ford
You okay?
Deuterium Boy
Just a killer headache and a bruised
ego.
A black helicopter flies low overhead. It lands a short distance away, just as Jake ran up to them.
Deuterium Boy
Where's Kentaro?
Jake
What?
Deuterium Boy
What?
Jake
What?
Ford
Third base!
They stare at him. He shrugs, and turns as somebody calls his name. An older man in a ratty tweed jacket is walking towards them from the helicopter, followed by several armed troopers.
Ford
Hess!
Hess
Agent Ford. Deuterium Boy. Ah, and this must be
Jake Cisneros?
Jake extended his hand.
Jake
Hi, Jake Cisneros.
Ford
We'll need to get his ears checked out.
Hess
Of course... Agent Parker called our Alaskan
office, and we sent as many people as we could at such short notice. Have you
made an arrest?
Ford looks back at the burning remains of the gondola.
Ford
A little late for that.
Hess
Hm. Well, that will be an extra couple days worth
of paperwork. Good work, gentlemen. Chimera, Inc. is officially belly
up.
Deuterium Boy
What about Jonas Sanders?
Ford
That's right. He was the one behind the whole
thing. He's a trustee for Octan. He had Doh killed because of his
report.
Hess smiled.
Hess
I know. We suspected he was involved when we
learned Ishida was Doh's killer. Ishida meant that Mark Sanders wouldn't be far
behind, and with his uncle so intimately involved with the pipeline --
Deuterium Boy
Mark Sanders?
Hess
Jonas's nephew. A minor crime-lord who goes by the
name of "Camus".
Ford and Deuterium Boy's jaws drop.
Ford
If you'd've told me that in the beginning, it
would've saved us a lot of effort!
Hess
Sorry, Agent Ford. I'll try and remember that next
time. At any rate, Jonas Sanders was arrested at Customs in San Francisco. He
had several boxes of Cuban cigars in his luggage, which of course you know are
illegal to import into the United States.
Ford grinned.
Ford
Perfect.
Hess
If you gentlemen will step this way, we'll meet up
with Hydrogen Guy back in town. I understand he took some injuries, but he's
alive. And we can make arrangements about your reimbursement for the trip up
here.
Jake
But we didn't --
Ford elbowed him in the ribs.
Ford
That'll be just fine. Lead the way,
Hess.
Concludes Thursday, in
Christopher Ford, Amateur Paranormalist!!!