The Crisis Masters

by Gerry Hart

  Doc activated the hovercar.

  “Terrain!” Solvent called out as the hovercar started to ascend. “I’ll… see you around!”

  Terrain arrived at his domicile after dropping his Dahlia off. He was very tired. A hot shower relaxed him allowing him to crawl in bed and begin to fall asleep.

  Terrain noticed through his bleary, half asleep eyes a figure entering the room. In his stupor, he believed it was Margaret coming to join him in bed. He smiled as she crawled under the covers, gave him a passionate kiss, and then cuddled with him, placing her head on his chest. Her scent accompanied Terrain into sleep.

  Terrain awoke the next morning feeling refreshed. He remembered his sleeping companion but chalked it up to a dream.

  Terrain dressed and entered the kitchen to the smells of breakfast. The Nanny-Bot was preparing Orianna for school. Terrain kissed his daughter and sat down. The Nanny-Bot placed a dish of processed bacon and eggs in front of him.

  “Did you sleep good, Daddy?” Orianna asked.

  “Well, Ori. Sleep well.” The Nanny-Bot corrected.

  Ori rolled her eyes.

  “I had a good sleep, pumpkin.” Terrain smiled. “I had a dream about your mother. She and Daddy were in bed like old times.”

  Ori giggled.

  “What’s so funny, pumpkin?”

  “You did not dream.” The Nanny-Bot answered. “It was real. It was I who was in bed with you.”

  Terrain’s mouth dropped.

  “What’s the matter, Daddy?” Ori asked. “I thought you liked the Nanny-Bot? I was hoping she could be more like a mommy.”

  Terrain didn’t know how to respond.

  “Your father might be uncomfortable with that line of thinking, Orianna.” The Nanny-Bot replied without emotion.

  “I’m sorry, Daddy.” Ori said while looking down at her breakfast, dandling it with a fork. “I just don’t want you to be sad.”

  “You still miss your mother, don’t you, baby?” Terrain asked softly.

  Ori crossed around the table to hug her father.

  “It’s okay, baby. It’s fine.” Terrain assured her as he pulled her away gently. “Daddy will be fine, but he needs to go to work now. We’ll talk later. Okay?”

  Ori sniffed then nodded.

  Terrain got up, retrieved his coat from an antique coat rack, and put his coat on.

  Terrain gazed at The Nanny-Bot during the whole process.

  Is it bad karma to fall in love with an artificial being? Terrain wondered

  “Have I overstepped my function, Crisis Master Terrain?” The Nanny-Bot asked innocently.

  “Mender.” Terrain said. “Please call me Mender? No, you haven’t done anything wrong. At least, I don’t think you did. I’m just really confused about it.”

  She caressed his cheek with a hand.

  “I understand.” She said.

  “I- uhh – really need to get- get to work.” Terrain said then exited his home.

  September 9, 4072, 10:48 AM.

  “Travis Obee leading a conspiracy with Native American Indians involved! Absurd !” Galveston scoffed.

  “He’s still missing.” Terrain admitted. “We can’t detect his light frequency anywhere on the planet.”

  Terrain noted Galveston and Oman’s grim faces.

  “I’m trying to establish some hard evidence linking Obee to the conspiracy, but, right now, I only have evidence of the conspiracy.” Terrain confessed. “I have evidence that Professor Ibdidgor is amassing an army of intelligent automatons...”

  “...By transferring a human mind to an android .” Oman finished then asked: “Where is he getting the human volunteers?”

  “That’s an unanswered question.” Terrain replied, then, seeing the concern on his colleagues’ faces, he continued, “We also have a Native American Indian who confessed that there are multiple Torks on the Continents gathering armor, weapons, and who knows what else. The Indian’s confession along with the unmasked “Torks” we captured on Techno-World, points toward the thefts of a dozen or so camouflage suits at Professor Ibdidgor’s lab at the University.”

  “How did you get this Indian to confess?” Oman asked.

  “I had an ... operative in the Basement.” Terrain said reluctantly. “A masked man going by the name of Solvent.”

  “I used to know of such a masked man, but that was decades ago.” Oman whispered.

  “He said to say ‘Hello’”

  “Have you located the real Phillip Tork?” Galveston asked sarcastically.

  Terrain sighed and shook his head.

  “Have you dismissed the idea that the real Tork is among these others, that the fake Torks are some diversionary tactic while the real Tork carries out some secret mission, say, the murder of a Dahlia?”

  “You bring up good points, Galveston, but you are not the detective.” Oman said playing intermediary. “I am sure Terrain has asked himself these questions.

  “It is ample reason to grant his request to take this investigation off world.”

  “Thank you, Crisis Masters.” Terrain said.

  “I would not be so thankful, Crisis Master.” Oman smiled. “You have all those Torks to weed out.”

  A subordinate entered the conference room and whispered something in Galveston’s ear.

  “I’ll be damned!” He exclaimed. “We got a transmission from Obee.”

  Oman was silent for a moment then said: "Let's see what the Chief Administrator has to say."

  Galveston, Oman, and Terrain made their way to Chief Administrator Travis Obee's office. They entered the Chief's office. Oman swiveled the desk computer to face the three men, then pressed a designated button. In a darkened room, millions of miles away, a robed figure activated his computer to receive the transmission.

  Chief Administrator Travis Obee appeared onscreen before his three associates.

  "Crisis Master Galveston of the Military Division, Crisis Master Mumar Oman of the Special Missions Division, Crisis Master Mender Terrain of the Detective Division," Obee acknowledged then continued, "I will keep this brief. I hereby resign my position as Chief Administrator. I leave you three to divide responsibilities as you see fit. I am heading off world into space. I cannot say when or if I will return. If I do return, gentlemen, life as we know it will never be the same. Even now, a plan I have been guiding to fruition for fifty years has already garnered massive change. This transmission is at an end. "

  The three Crisis Masters were in shock.

  "Lights." Travis Obee ordered from his room a million miles away.

  The lights revealed a plain steel walled room. Obee was seated at a metal table. He closed his laptop computer and smiled. He pressed two keys on the laptop. The Duchess Camille appeared onscreen.

  “Duchess, commence phase two of your duties then head to your mountain stronghold.”

  “Acknowledged.” She confirmed, paused for a moment, and then asked: “Obee, when will you send for me?”

  “Soon, my love. My destiny is at hand.”

  Galveston paced back and forth. Terrain took his fedora off running his hand over his face and head. Oman had taken the administrator’s seat.

  “It appears we will be joining you on your fox hunt, Mender.” Oman said then looked at Galveston. “Does my decision meet with your approval, Crisis Master Galveston? You are the next senior in line.”

  Galveston reacted to the fact like being slapped in the face. He regained his composure and nodded.

  “Gather any aides you might require on your ‘fox hunt’, Terrain.” Galveston said with resignation then smiled a little as he addressed Oman. “He’ll need the Providence, Oman. Since I am senior, I delegate you to recall Commodore Croteau.”

  “You son of a bitch.” Oman chuckled back.

  “Power corrupts absolutely.” Galveston admitted.

  8

  September 9, 4072, 2 PM.

  Rave Henderson was dreaming.

  She was in some type of limbo. The ground was cov
ered in mist that ran up to her shins. Her every step kicked a fluff of the mist up. She entered an area covered with red roses. The roses sprouted from vines covering archways and vine walls. A pink couch was up against one vine wall letting the roses drape over it.

  Rave finally noticed a shadowy figure standing in the middle of the rose laden area. She could not tell if the figure was male or female. He/she sat on the couch, stretching its body. Ray began to straddle the figure.

  “Rave, you’re okay.” Rave heard a male’s voice. “You can wake up now. You’re needed.”

  Rave straddled the figure. She wanted him/her.

  “Go away. I’m busy.” Rave said but it sounded mumbled.

  The shadowy figure reached up and caressed her cheek then started to give it a gentle slap then again, and again.

  Rave woke up... in a coffin?

  She sat up abruptly and looked around. Rave gave a sigh of relief as she realized she was in a healing chamber. She noticed Crisis Master Terrain and his Dahlia to one side. Derek the automaton was on the other side. He was holding up a bathrobe. The other automaton, Zach, stood behind Derek. Crisis Master Greg Marsh stood at the foot of the tube.

  “Crisis Master Rave Henderson reporting for duty, sirs.” Rave proclaimed.

  “You gave us quite the scare, Crisis Master.” Terrain said.

  “I underestimated my opponent, sir.”

  “Derek kept watch on you the whole time.” Marsh teased.

  “He did ?” Rave flirted, giving Derek a smile.

  “Just wanted to see you naked.” Zach said aloud.

  Derek gave Zach a backward fist-to-the-face blow. Zack backed up a few paces, startled. He regained his senses and raised a fist to retaliate when a hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.

  “Stand down, Mister.” Marsh’s voice was stern.

  “If I didn’t have to follow protocols....” Zach sulked

  “Would you like another crack at The Duchess?” Terrain asked Rave.

  “Who do I have to kill, sir?” Rave grinned.

  “Suit up. I’ll let you know when I need you.”

  “The Providence? Commodore Croteau still in charge?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  Rave’s eyes widened as she clicked her tongue. “No reason, sir.”

  “Greg, get me Officers Negatt and Berenger.” Terrain addressed Marsh. “Have them meet me in Administrator Obee’s former office.”

  “At once.” Marsh responded.

  Terrain and Doc headed to Obee’s office.

  “Crisis Master Terrain? “ It was O.B.S.E.A.C.C.

  Terrain stopped in his tracks.

  “Obee? You were supposed to be deactivated?” Terrain responded.

  “Crisis Natcher and Debrowski failed in their assignment.” O.B.S.E.A.C.C. said simply.

  “Status of Crisis Masters Natcher and Debrowski, OB?”

  There was a pause.

  “Unavailable, Crisis Master.” O.B.S.E.A.C.C. said again simply.

  “OB, you paused before you answered. Your pause usually indicates you’re lying.”

  “I am incapable of lying, Crisis Master.

  “A person looking through a window from the other side of a room is forced to focus on one sight, unable to see from side to side.” Doc the Dahlia proclaimed.

  O.B.S.E.A.C.C. dismissed the Dahlia’s words.

  “Did you kill Crisis Masters Natcher and Debrowski, OB?” Terrain asked.

  “My programming would not let me be deactivated.” O.B.S.E.A.C.C. stated again simply then changed the subject “Crisis Master Terrain, you, Crisis Master Galveston and Oman are planning to retrieve Former Administrator Travis Obee. I advise against it. “

  “Galveston and Oman is the military branch of the Crisis Masters, OB, and currently in charge.” Terrain replied. “My responsibility is the apprehension of Phillip Tork.“

  “There is a Phillip Tork still on Techno-World. You encountered him. He was disguised as Solvent.”

  “He had the same light frequency?”

  “Yes.”

  “This Tork wasn’t on the list you gave me, OB!”

  “My programming made me withhold the information.”

  “What else is new?” Terrain was furious.

  O.B.S.E.A.C.C. changed the subject by repeating: “If Crisis Master Galveston and Oman try to retrieve Former Administrator Travis Obee, they will fail, Crisis Master Terrain. You must... talk to them. “

  Terrain stopped walking. In his experience, he had never heard O.B.S.E.A.C.C. make a request. “What is the basis for your prediction, OB? “

  The communicator was silent.

  Terrain tapped his communicator. “OB? “ He tapped it twice more.

  Nothing.

  Terrain stifled a premonition of dread and continued on his way to meet Negatt and Berenger.

  Terrain entered Travis Obee’s former office. Negatt and Berenger were there along with Galveston and Oman.

  “You’re still here?” Terrain asked.

  “Eager to take over the office?” Galveston teased then became serious. “We were rethinking our strategy.

  “We’ve managed to get a feed from one of the satellites orbiting Hometown. The satellites were stationed around Hometown and the Continents to pick up any abnormal activity.”

  “Do you have any satellites around the fourth planet?” Terrain wondered aloud.

  “We were going to dispatch some, but Administrator Obee claimed the effort would be futile, citing his survey reports on Legend’s unique culture and various life forms. How could anything abnormal be detected on such an extra ordinary world?

  “In hindsight, knowing what we do now, Obee was probably blindsiding us.

  “The feed discovered a rather large dome in the middle of Springfield, Massachusetts. Its height is undetermined but it stretches several miles in length. Analysis claims its large enough to hide a starship, one larger than anything built for the Crisis Masters.”

  “It’s a trap.” Terrain said with an excited voice. “O.B.S.E.A.C.C. just contacted me. He’s still active. He’s warned that we will fail if we go after Obee.”

  Everyone in the room went silent.

  “How could O.B.S.E.A.C.C. threaten us? It’s against his programming.” Oman argued.

  “I believe Professor Ibdidgor has gone rogue.” Terrain explained. “If he has, what better way to have an advantage then to program OB to watch his back?”

  “Do you think Ibdidgor is connected to Obee?” Oman asked.

  “I believe he’s working for him.” Terrain admitted.

  “We know one of the false Torks is near the location of a Crisis Master named Gaz.” Oman reported. “We’ve assigned him to find this Tork to see if he can extract any information.

  “Meanwhile, Galveston and I will approach Hometown to ascertain the nature of that dome and, if necessary, destroy it!

  “Mender, you are still under orders to weed out the false Torks on the Continents. I believe that is why Officers Negatt and Berenger are here. They will be a part of your unit?”

  “Yes, they are.” Terrain confirmed. “However, I have one more piece of business to take care of here. Besides the warning, OB revealed that he held back the location of one more Tork on Techno-World. The Tork is in the Basement and OB has revealed him to be my informant, Solvent. OB suggested this Solvent might be the real Phillip Tork.”

  “It makes some kind of sense.” Oman thought aloud. “During the time I was associated with this Solvent character, I was also friendly with Phillip Tork, but I’ve seen them together. They can’t be the same man.”

  “We’ll ask him if I’m permitted to do so before heading to the Continents.”

  “Very well. We each have our respective missions. I suggest we carry them out for the sake and honor of the Crisis Masters!”

  September 9, 4072, 4:30 PM.

  Doc the Dahlia descended once again into the Basement at the exact coordinates where Solvent was encountered the most. However, the Dahl
ia and Terrain were accompanied by Crisis Masters, Negatt, Henderson, and Berenger, all three suited for combat with field armor, accessories, and laser rifle. Berenger took point with the intention of leading his fellow Crisis Masters back to the “hospital” where Terrain and Munson were treated.

  The quartet double timed their pace to the “hospital”. Terrain’s anger at being duped allowed him to keep pace.

  Terrain was the first one through the entrance to the “hospital”.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Angela Dillio roared as her patients were disrupted and scrambled for cover in the midst of the Crisis Master’s presence.

  “I want Solvent!” Terrain roared back.

  “He isn’t here!”

  “Then you better find him. We stay here until you do.”

  Dillio pursed her lips. She grabbed a dirty hair, dirt faced, ragged child from behind her. She whispered something in his ear then patted him off.

  “I guess we’re waiting.” Terrain said in resignation. “Berenger, Negatt, you stand outside the entrance. Be alert. Rave, I want you here with me.”

  “I’d be better outside.” Rave grimaced.

  “Relax. It’s my ass you’re protecting.”

  Hours past.

  Terrain was sipping on a coffee Dillio provided. Rave leaned against a wall. She was holding her rifle in a standing position.

  Negatt and Berenger had spent their time interrogating or driving away dwellers trying to get in to the makeshift hospital.

  Berenger spotted a dweller that looked suspicious. He called to the dweller to stop, and then walked toward him.

  Negatt felt something swish down on him. Suddenly, he shot up into the blackness. The mouth of the dweller he was talking to dropped open. Berenger gave him a questioned look. The dweller responded by pointing up and behind Berenger.

  Berenger turned to see Negatt missing.

  “Crisis Master Terrain!” Berenger sounded out.

  Negatt dropped on him as he sounded out.

  Rave Henderson was the first one to exit. Solvent dropped behind her.

  Rave was prepared. She was not going to let an incident like her fights with the Duchess take her by surprise.