It was a scene of Broog standing at the water intake system. He was dumping in a large bucket of something that could only have been Kretizophomin. Once he had finished, he waved at the security camera and then disappeared.
“No way,” Trek said loudly. “That was too staged.”
“I’m with you on that one,” agreed Torg.
Trek glanced sideways at Elf and then pushed off the rail and began to pace. Strange things were afoot. It wasn’t really Trek’s forte to notice things like this, but even his internal bullshit meter was hitting red.
“There’s a lot wrong with all of this,” he said. “First, Broog doesn’t seem that bright to me, and that has nothing to do with him being a Worge, Belchore, so don’t even go there.” To his credit, Belchore said nothing. “Second, if Broog is smarter than he seems—smart enough to bring the transportation system to a halt, for example—would he couple that intelligence with such an obvious trail of clues? Third, how did Broog even get into the water treatment plant without there being a record of him entering? Fourth, where the hell did he get the Kretizophomin in the first place? Fifth, why would he suddenly blink into existence on the feed and then, when he finished pouring the poison, blink back out again? And finally, who the hell in their right mind would commit a crime like this and then wave at the security camera?”
There were no answers to any of the questions, but Trek hadn’t expected any. The only thing he could see was a setup, and an elaborate one at that. But who would do such a thing and where would he attack next? It could be Kretiz, of course. That was the running theory anyway. It could also be The Committee, as McCracken suggested, but that was almost as hard to believe as the idea that Broog was smart.
“So you don’t think Broog’s involved?” asked Elf.
“I didn’t say that,” Trek answered, “but I do think we have some reason for doubt here, don’t you?”
“Gotta catch him in order to find out,” Belchore said.
Trek nodded.
“But he’s nowhere to be found,” Elf pointed out.
“Which would make me think he’s guilty of at least some of this.”
“Makes sense,” Opal said while stretching his arms up. “Don’t you think so, Adna?”
“Yeah, sure. Whatever.”
“You know,” Belchore said while squinting, “if this idiot is on the run and we got all the spaceports covered, wouldn’t it make sense for him to hit something else?”
“What do you mean?” asked Trek, feeling a shiver run through him.
“Well,” Belchore said, “if it was me, the first thing I’d do would be to attack the air system or the power.”
“Damn,” Trek said, snapping his fingers. “That’s exactly what he’s going to do. Give us just enough bait so that we try to stop him from getting off Quarn and then hit us again where we least expect it.”
“Yep,” Belchore said, crossing his arms.
Trek called over the deputy in charge of the local I.S. crew. “Deputy Kerd,” he said, “we have reason to believe that Broog is going to either attack the air systems or the power grid. I need you to get a team to the air chamber and I’ll take my squad to the grid. If anything happens, you notify me immediately. Understood?”
“Got it.”
Maybe it was just the adrenaline talking, but it sure felt good to Trek that he was finally making some decent progress.
If all went well, he’d have Broog under arrest within the hour, assuming that Belchore was right, of course. He deflated a little, though, recognizing that even if he did bring Broog into custody, there was a lot leaning towards all of this being a setup.
There Can Be Only 2
Sooner or later there was bound to be physical conflict. Trek had fully expected it. It wasn’t as though he was afraid of such an eventuality, but it certainly made him feel better that he had both Belchore and Elf on his side.
Trek looked intently at both of them and said, “It may come to blows in there. I’m assuming I can count on you two if the going gets rough?”
“Uh, no,” Elf said. “I’m a pacifist. I’m sternly against violence.”
Trek and Belchore looked at each other, obviously finding common ground for the first time.
“Well, that makes joining the GDA a bit stupid, doesn’t it?” said Belchore, confirming Trek’s thoughts.
“Not really,” Elf said in a subdued voice. “We’re detectives, not policemen.”
“Hmmm,” Trek said, and then turned to Belchore. “I hope you’re okay with violence, should it come to that?”
“Are you kidding?” Belchore said, flexing his muscles. “Nothing better than punching people in the head.”
“Good.” Trek nodded. “Very good.”
“Don’t leave us out,” Torg said, cracking his knuckles. “I’ve been known to throw a punch or two in my time.”
“Yeah,” Opal said, snarling and cracking his knuckles too, wincing and yelping with each snap.
“Adna?”
“Hmmm?” She was scraping at the wall with a talon. “Yeah, sure. Punching, kicking. Whatever.”
“Well, that’s great,” Trek said, feeling surprised. “Good to have a team like this!”
Trek led them around the bend and into a wide room whose ceiling sat about 20-feet high, from what Trek could gauge. Everything was humming. It wasn’t exactly a steady vibration, but it was enough to let you know that there was a machine at work. If the buzzing didn’t give it away, though, one would be hard-pressed not to get the point due to all the cables, buttons, and boxes that littered the walls, floor, and ceiling.
Yes, this is where all the power panels were for the entirety of Quarn station. And Trek had spotted a rather burly Worge tacking something up on one of the main panels.
“Broog!” Trek said, pointing.
They all ran over to him.
“I don’t know what you’re doing,” Trek said, “but you’d better back away before there’s trouble.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” said a voice that came from Broog but didn’t sound much like him. “Uh…I mean, damn!”
Just then another Worge rushed in and stopped in front of Broog. Trek blinked a few times and shook his head. This Worge was Broog, too. They were identical.
“Hey, asshole,” said Broog #2 to Broog #1, “why are you impersonating me?”
“You’re the impersonator,” Broog #1 one countered, “uh…asshole.”
Trek looked from Broog #1 to Broog #2 and said, “What the hell is going on here?”
Broog #1 reached out and pressed a few buttons on the device that he’d attached to the panel.
A countdown began. Five minutes.
Broog #2 looked back at the GDA crew and said, “This guy’s a fake!”
“He’s the fake,” countered Broog #1.
“Actually…” Elf started and then his datapad chimed and he held up a finger and turned away to answer it. “Claybaby, what’s shakin’? I’m a bit in the middle of something at the mo’mo, you hot little Yopperian. What say I call you back in a few?”
“You!” Broog #1 pointed at Elf, who again held up a finger.
“What about him?” Trek said. “Look… I don’t know what’s going on, but I want both of these, uh, Broogs arrested right now!”
“Arrested?” Broog #2 said, and then he started running away.
Broog #1 turned and ran the other direction.
“Damn it,” Trek said, not sure how to proceed. What would Rebben do? he asked himself. He got it. “Okay, does anyone know how to stop that bomb or whatever it is?”
“I’m more of a gardener, obviously,” Torg said, pointing at the tattoos on his neck, “but Opal’s got some electronics chops, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Sure do,” Opal said, stepping up and puffing out his little chest.
“Good. Opal, get that damn bomb stopped. Torg, help him out however you can. Belchore and Adna,” he pointed toward the direction Broog #2 was running, “you capture that Broog, an
d I’ll take Elf with me to get the other Broog. Don’t let him get away, got it?”
Everyone stood there for a second as if digesting their commands. Then, as if on cue, they took off in their various directions.
“Elf,” Trek called back as he ran after one of the Broogs, “get the hell off that call and come on!”
By the time Trek had reached the door he spotted Broog through the railing on the second level. Looking around he saw a lift and jumped on it. Elf leaped right behind him and they rode it down, bringing them directly in Broog’s path.
“Give me your weapon,” Trek said to Elf as Broog slowed down, breathing even more heavily than Trek was.
“I don’t have a weapon,” Elf said. “Remember? The whole pacifist thing?”
“Then I’ll need your help here.”
“No can do.” Elf held up his hands. “Not really a fighter, you know?”
Trek spoke out of the corner of his mouth, “Are you seriously telling me that you’re just going to stand there while I engage in hand-to-hand combat with a Worge?”
Elf looked at Broog and then back at Trek. He did this a few times before saying, “Sorry, sir, but what are you talking about?”
“I think it’s rather obvious, don’t you? We’ve got Captain Broog here and we need to arrest him!”
“You okay, sir?” said Elf. “I mean, I know you’ve had a rough few days acclimating and all, but I didn’t expect that you’d start hallucinating. Maybe it’s time to put a lid on all that Soothe you take.”
“Seriously? If you can’t see that this is Captain Broog…”
“It not, sir. That’s Supreme Commander Monty McCracken.”
Trek guffawed. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“How the hell did you know that?” said the familiar voice of Monty McCracken.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Trek said in disbelief as he slowly swung his head back to the image of Broog. “It is you. I don’t know how you’re managing to look like Broog, but whatever the technology is, it’s damn impressive.”
Broog shimmered briefly and was replaced by the body of McCracken.
“It’s supposed to be foolproof, too,” McCracken said with a grunt, “but I guess that GOD is more powerful than I had expected.” McCracken was glaring at Elf. “Isn’t that right?”
“God?” said Trek, feeling like maybe he should seriously consider stopping the Soothe completely.
“Only if you’re spelling it in all caps, Gibbons,” McCracken said. “The fact that you hired this two-bit charlatan shouldn’t surprise me at all. You two are of the same breed, after all.”
“I didn’t hire him,” Trek said, as if slapped. “You assigned him to my squad! Just like you assigned everyone on my team.”
McCracken jolted. “I most certainly did not.”
“Then who did?” Trek asked Elf.
Elf hung his head for a moment and then replied, “I just showed up, you know? I heard that you were going to be on station and I’m a huge fan of your writing. Huge! Your words kept me going during some very lonely years when I was still trying to learn how to leave my ship.”
“Ha!” McCracken said with his hands up in the air. “His words. What a joke! He’s just as much a fraud as you are, GOD.” McCracken said that last word with loads of venom. “Trek didn’t write any of those damned books. Hell, they were barely even based on him at all!”
Elf turned slowly toward Trek. “Is this true, sir?”
Trek looked away. There was no way out of this, now. Soon, the entire galaxy would know about his actual nature.
“How did you know?” Trek asked McCracken.
“Rebben Coolait was my cousin, you bastard.”
“Ah,” Trek said with a sniff. “That explains why you’ve been such a jerk to me, and why you’re setting me up. Rebben never mentioned you, obviously, or I would have known.” He scratched his head. “Anyway, think of me as you will, but you have to understand that I never treated Rebben poorly. Actually, we were very good friends.”
“I’d hate to be your enemy then,” McCracken said.
“It seems you are my enemy,” Trek pointed out.
“You’re a fake?” Elf said softly, staring at Trek. “This is so disappointing.”
“Says ‘GOD’,” McCracken pointed out and then scoffed. “You’re both fakes!”
“Says the guy who was just impersonating Captain Broog,” Trek retaliated, and then added, “I think it’s time I finished what you hired me to do. Why don’t you come with us?”
“I don’t have time to come with you,” McCracken said. “I have a conglomeration to topple and I’ll be damned if a never-was cop and a steel ‘GOD’ are going to stop me. Once I’m off station, my armada is going to be on its way in. My advice to you would be to get the hell away from Quarn and hope and pray that I never find you, because if I do you can bet your ass that I’ll first expose you for the fraud you are, then I’ll deliver you right back into the clutches of your pal, Riggo.”
Trek began to roll up his sleeves. Years ago he had done his fair share of boxing while at college. While his record was considered one of the worst in the history of academia, coming in somewhere around 0-34, he believed that he could take someone like McCracken out.
McCracken’s type was all talk. He’d probably yelled his way to his current position by instilling fear as bullies often do.
“Elf,” Trek said, “please run back and grab the stun gun from Opal. Don’t worry, I won’t make you fire it, and if it’ll make you feel better, you can ask him for the holster so you don’t actually have to touch the weapon itself. I will take care of our Supreme Commander here.”
Elf seemed impressed that Trek was willing to fight. Impressed enough that he saluted and said, “Yes, sir. And, sir, while I must state that I am emphatically opposed to what you’re about to do here, and while I now know that you’re pretty much a complete fraud, I’m proud to say that this is the Trek Gibbons that I’ve read about!”
After Elf ascended back up the lift, Trek turned to McCracken and said, “One last chance, McCracken. Give up or…”
That’s when he saw McCracken’s fist, felt it smack his jaw, and then everything blurred as the world began to fade away.
Time to Go
Everything gingerly came back into focus and Trek found himself looking up into the glowing eyes of Elf. His jaw ached and the back of his head had a bit of a lump.
“What happened?”
“You seem to have what’s known as a glass jaw,” Elf said.
“What?”
“I got back about a minute ago and saw you laying here, so I checked the camera feeds and watched what happened. You put your fists up and started saying something and then McCracken threw out a right-jab that connected with your chin and sent you tumbling to the floor in a heap.”
“Good,” Trek said, having trouble keeping his eyes open due to light sensitivity. “Glad to know that was recorded. I don’t suppose you happen to have watched a bit more of the feed to know where McCracken went?”
“He’s up there,” Elf said, pointing.
Trek squinted while looking up. “Where?”
“About two hundred miles out… make that three hundred. Nope, five… now he’s…”
“So he’s in a ship?”
“Yes.”
“That means the armada is going to be here soon,” Trek said, grabbing Elf by his arms and shaking the robot. Then he stopped and looked Elf in the eye. “We’ve got to get off Quarn… and fast.”
“Why?”
“McCracken’s planning to take over the Gordo Galaxy, remember?”
“Oh, right,” Elf said, and then shrugged. “Well, I have a ship.”
“You do?”
“It’s a long story. You see, I used to work for…”
“Tell me when we’re safely away from McCracken and his goons, okay? For now, go and get your ship and meet me at the space dock we were at earlier.”
“But they’
ll block me,” Elf pointed out.
Trek grabbed Elf’s GDA badge, showed it to him, and said, “No, they won’t. Now, get a move on!”
Elf clanked off as Trek jumped onto the lift and headed back up to where the rest of the crew was. He had no intention of bringing any of them with him. They were better off getting as far away from him as possible.
“Seeing that it’s been more than five minutes,” he said through ragged breaths as he approached Opal and Torg, “and recognizing the fact that we’re all still in one piece, I’m assuming you had no trouble stopping McCracken’s bomb.”
“It was a simple two-way…” Opal started, and then stopped and said, “Wait, did you just say McCracken?”
Trek explained the situation as Belchore, Adna, and a pretty broken-up looking Broog approached.
“So Broog had nothing to do with any of this?”
“That’s right, Torg.”
“Told ya,” Broog said through a fat lip.
“Damn, Belchore,” Trek said, looking over the destruction that had replaced Broog’s face. “You didn’t have to rough him up that badly.”
Belchore put up his hands and shook his head. “I didn’t do that.” Then he pointed at Adna, who was busily picking at a scab on her hand.
“You’re not serious,” said Trek.
“Oh, he’s serious,” Broog said with a smile that told a story about two teeth that had lost their way. “I think I’m in love, but don’t tell nobody!”
“That you’re in love?”
“No, I don’t give a crap about you telling people that. I mean don’t tell nobody I got my ass kicked by an Awkian woman!”
“Ah, right.”
“Where is Elf, sir?” Opal asked.
“I sent him to do something important. As to that, you’ve all got to get off of the station. It’s not safe. McCracken is bringing back an armada and he’s planning to overthrow The Committee. One thing he promised was to personally destroy me in the process, and that, by proxy, means he’s going to take each of you down, too.”
“What the hell?” Belchore said. “That’s not fair!”
“Nobody ever said life inside the Gordo Galaxy was fair, Belchore.”
The Rebellion Hyperbole Page 11