Earthman Jack vs. The Secret Army (Earthman Jack Space Saga Book 2)
Page 51
Boone rolled his eyes at the foreman’s snark as he made his way off the scrapyard grounds, the yard’s large neon sign reading “Scrapyard Watto” so burnt out that the only letters left lit read “crap rat,” with the “c” blinking precariously. It was bad enough having Chief Alabaster AND Director Casgor breathing down his neck, he didn’t need the mockery of a man who smelled like he showered once a month.
The scrapyard was located on stratum 50, not far from the auxiliary spaceport. It was rare for Boone to personally venture so far down into the depths of the capitol. He’d come armed with both a blaster and a shock bolt pistol just in case he stumbled across his target. Though he doubted anyone would mess with a uniformed Intelligence Agent down there, it never hurt to be cautious.
Boone was in a sour mood as he began making his way toward the nearest public teleporter. When he’d first gotten this assignment, he hadn’t anticipated how frustrating it would be. Heckubus Moriarty had turned out to be quite the elusive prey. He somehow managed to stay out of sight of every surveillance camera the Bunker had in the city, which was quite an impressive feat – especially if he were somehow moving around performing burglaries. By this point, Boone had expected to catch some sight of him if he were still in the city, but unfortunately, that hadn’t been the case.
He could tell Chief Alabaster was not happy with his progress – or rather, lack thereof. And things got even worse when he’d received a call from Director Casgor himself about the search for the robot. It was one thing to disappoint one’s boss. It was quite another to disappoint one of the leaders of the Empire. Boone had put in a request for more men, but he wasn’t sure what good it would accomplish. The team he already had was doing all there was to do. It was only out of desperation Boone had taken it upon himself to follow up on this petty burglary theory of his.
Boone stopped walking and leaned up against a building by an alleyway. He rubbed his temples, his head hurting from stress. This assignment could be a career killer if I don’t produce some results, he thought. Between Alabaster, Casgor, and a robot that’s impossible to find, I am well and truly kittened.
“You look lost, my friend,” came a friendly voice.
Boone looked into the alley he was next to and saw a man in tattered robes sitting against the wall, his face obscured by a hood hanging low over his head. “I’m fine, thanks,” muttered Boone.
“If it’s answers you seek,” the man said, “RNGsus can show you the way.”
The hooded man gestured toward a nearby RNGsus booth. Boone frowned. “I doubt some random fortune from a hokey religion can help me,” he replied.
“One never knows,” said the man. “The universe works in mysterious ways. Is it a random answer? Or is it fate showing you the path you are meant to walk? Whichever it is… what have you got to lose?”
Boone considered the man’s words for a moment. He looked at the RNGsus booth, amused he was actually contemplating using it, then turned back to address the man only to find he was now gone. Boone looked around suspiciously, but there was no sign of the hooded man anywhere. His gaze finally came back to rest on the RNGsus booth, and he sighed.
“Might as well give it a shot,” he muttered. “It’s not like I have any better leads to follow.”
Boone approached the booth and swiped his digicredit card. A coin was loaded as RNGsus’s mouth opened. Boone aimed the ramp at the opening. “Where do I look for Heckubus Moriarty?” he asked.
The coin rolled into RNGsus’s mouth and the mannequin’s eyes glowed red. A ticket was printed, and Boone tore it off, looking at it. “1337,” he read, before flipping the ticket around. “Look in the generator room of Supertower 7.”
Boone stared at the ticket curiously. Hmmmmm, he thought. That’s rather… specific.
Boone glanced around him again. He felt like someone was playing some type of trick on him, but there was nothing in the alley but the steam billowing from the grates there. He glanced back down at the ticket. Whether it’s fate showing me the way or some type of joke, it’s the only lead I have at the moment, he thought. Might as well see where it goes.
Thus, Agent Boone found his way to Supertower 7, also known as the Clearwater Tower, named after the star system whose citizens it housed the most of. After teleporting down to the proper sub-level, he found his way to the generator room. Each supertower in the city had astronomical energy requirements, so the room practically took up an entire sub-level on its own. The massive, barrel-shaped generators hummed loudly enough to give him a headache as he weaved his way through the maze they formed.
I’m probably the first blasted non-maintenance-bot to walk around down here in centuries, he thought to himself as he looked at the sorry state of the gigantic machines that surrounded him. These things seem old enough to be left-overs from the Twilight Empire.
Boone wandered around, checking down the rows some of the generators formed as they lined up, to see if he could catch a glimpse of something – anything – to tell him he wasn’t wasting his time. This is a bloody fool’s errand, he thought bitterly after about twenty minutes of searching. Following up on a lead from a glorified video game... I must be out of my mind. And if there were something actually to it, it would take days to search this level by foot, even with a team of agents assisting me.
Boone was about to give up when he thought he heard something over the incessant hum of the generators. He strained his ears to see if he could pick up on it again. It was faint, but it almost sounded like a voice.
Curious, Boone began moving deeper into the room, working his way through the maze of machinery, trying to listen to whoever was speaking. Eventually, he was able to make the sound out clearly enough to understand what was being said.
“Okay, let’s try this again,” he heard a voice say. “WHO IS YOUR MASTER?”
“Command not recognized,” came a computerized voiced response.
“Blast it!” cursed the other voice. “Why must your encryption be so finicky? I would have thought the control algorithm would have adjusted by now…”
Boone crept up behind a generator and peeked over its side. Not far away he could see a trashed Peacekeeper security-bot on the floor, its chest open to expose its power source and operating systems, but beyond that it appeared to be hardly functional. Nearby was a large contraption with a number of wires and cables running to it, and Heckubus Moriarty was at some type of workbench fiddling with a piece of machinery he’d connected to a cable jutting from the control box on his open chest compartment.
Well, I’ll be, Boone mused. All praise RNGsus!
“Very well, this should do it,” Heckubus said after finishing whatever it was he was doing to the tiny machine that was linked to him. “Now, security-bot… OBEY ME!”
The tiny box Heckubus was tethered to beeped. Boone watched as the security-bot twitched, its insides whirring as it appeared to be downloading information transmitted from the box. Suddenly, its eyes began glowing red. “Command protocol accepted,” it droned. “All hail Heckubus Moriarty. Lord and master.”
“Mwuahahahahaha!” laughed Heckubus triumphantly. “Finally, the wireless robot control device is working perfectly! Now I have the capability to reprogram any robot to do my bidding!” Heckubus unplugged himself from the wireless controller box, shutting his chest compartment and looking at the tiny contraption with satisfaction. “All that’s left is to simply extend the range on it to connect to the Relayer from anywhere in the city, and I shall be ready to begin enacting my dastardly plan.”
Boone frowned. He certainly didn’t like the sound of that one bit. Now that he’d finally found the robot, he should call in for back-up to help apprehend him, but he was familiar enough with Heckubus’s file to know that if he were planning something, it most likely wasn’t good – especially if he could wirelessly reprogram robots to do as he wanted. If Boone didn’t act now, it was possible his target would slip away and cause trouble before he’d be able to track down the robot again.
Heckubus looked up at Boone, alarmed. “What?” the robot said. “Who are you?”
“Boone,” Boone replied. “Dirk Boone, of the Imperial Intelligence Agency.”
“An Intelligence Agent, you say?” mused Heckubus. “No doubt a highly skilled one, to have made it past all my nefarious death traps located throughout this level.”
“What death traps?” Boone asked.
“Seriously?” whined Heckubus. “The flame throwers? The steel jaws of death? The boiling oil? None of that’s familiar?” Boone shook his head. Heckubus sighed. “No matter!” the robot proclaimed. “Allow me to inform you of whom you are trifling with. I am—”
“Heckubus Moriarty, I know,” said Boone.
“So you’ve heard of me? Very well. But are you aware I’m the greatest evil genius in—”
“Eight star systems, yes, I’m familiar with your file,” Boone finished for him.
Heckubus’s ocular orbs narrowed as he glared at the agent. “You do know it’s rude to interrupt when I’m attempting to monologue, do you not?”
“You know what I consider rude?” replied Boone. “Making me scour the city trying to find you for weeks on end. But I’d say neither of us appears to be too concerned with good manners.”
“Indeed,” said Heckubus. “And how did you find me? I was very careful to cover my tracks.”
“Let’s just say I had a little help from fate,” Boone replied. “Now do me a service and power yourself down so I can take you in peacefully. I’d hate to have to EMP you before hauling you back to the Bunker. I’ve been ordered to try to return your memory banks intact. The operative word there being try.”
“Yes, yes, that’s a very kind offer,” said Heckubus. “Alas! I am smart enough to know when I am in a losing position. You win this round, Mr. Boone. But I assure you… next time, you won’t be so lucky!” With that, Heckubus powered down, the lights in his eyes and on his torso dimming. He hunched over, his body completely deactivated. Boone regarded him for a moment, pursing his lips.
“You don’t really expect me to fall for that, do you?” he asked.
Heckubus instantly powered back up. “Drat,” he said. “You’re smarter than you look.”
“I take it this means you’re not going to come along peacefully?”
“What do you think?”
Boone sighed. “Then we’ll have to do this the hard way, I guess,” he said, before raising his weapon and firing it at Heckubus. A tiny bolt shot out and latched itself onto Heckubus’s chest, sending charges of electricity surging through him. Heckubus trembled as his voice modulator waivered, and he finally fell back onto the ground, deactivated.
Boone frowned. He hoped that the surge bolt hadn’t fried any of the robot’s data systems, otherwise he’d have a lot to answer for with Alabaster. However, it had been made clear to him by Director Casgor that he was to arrest the robot by any means necessary, and last Boone checked, a Director’s order superseded a Chief’s. He holstered his weapon and began approaching Heckubus’s body when the robot suddenly came back to life, laughing as he did so.
Boone stopped, looking at the robot in surprise as it sat up, gazing at him mockingly. “I was totally lying before,” Heckubus proclaimed. “You’re nowhere near as smart as you look, and you don’t look smart in the slightest! Mwuahahahahaha!”
“How are you still operational?” Boone asked, taken aback.
Heckubus pulled the surge bolt Boone had fired at him from his chest. “I have thoroughly insulated my major systems from electrical overloads, in case occasions just such as this should arise,” Heckubus replied smugly. “It takes more than a mere surge bolt to faze one such as I!”
“Well, you probably should have milked playing dead for a bit longer,” Boone said as he reached for his plasma pistol. “Because now I’m just going to have to straight-up shoot you.”
“But if I hadn’t revealed I was awake when I did, you wouldn’t have stopped where you are,” Heckubus said. “You were a little out of place this whole time. But now, you’re in exactly the right spot.”
“For what?” asked Boone suspiciously.
“For this!” said Heckubus with malicious glee.
Suddenly, a trap door opened up beneath Boone’s feet and he fell, landing hard in a metal cage below. The top of the cage instantly slammed shut, locking him in, and the bars became electrified. Boone screamed as he was shocked, painful electricity coursing through the cage and into his body.
“I couldn’t get my hands on any metal spikes or vats of acid, so I settled on an electrified cage!” Heckubus called down from the mouth of the trap door above. “What do you think? Is it painful? It looks deliciously painful!”
Boone struggled to try to find a way to angle himself so he wouldn’t get shocked, but there was no escaping the torturous voltage. Every muscle in his body was tensing so badly, he could barely move, and his jaw was clamped so tight it felt as though his teeth might break. He desperately tried to grasp one of his weapons, but he found he could not control his limbs.
“Don’t worry, it’s not enough voltage to kill you,” Heckubus said. “In approximately ten seconds, you’re simply going to pass out. Then, I’m going to kill you!”
The last thing Boone heard before he lost consciousness was the maniacal laughter of the evil genius, Heckubus Moriarty.
Chapter 46
The hall of the Council of Elders was abuzz with activity as it began to fill up with the various Elder representatives making their way into the chamber and finding their booths. Casgor stood near the pentagon shaped table on the floor at the center of the room, right in front of the Grand Adjudicator, the robotic monstrosity lording over him like some type of overbearing supervisor. Casgor surveyed the chamber, carefully eyeing the each Elder as they came in, mentally taking stock of those who were with him and those who were against him.
This will work, Casgor thought to himself. With the Elders from the Rim colonies in our corner, and the representatives from the Atreides sector abstaining, there’s no way we can lose this vote.
His informants had been keeping a close watch on Amadeus Evenstar, along with Directors Jamerones and Phenberg, as they tried to rally support for the measure before Casgor was able to push for the vote. So far, Casgor was confident he’d been able to block their every effort to gain any new allies. In a short while, the proposal would be dead, and he’d be free of the irritating distraction it had become.
Gebhard Skyborn entered the council chambers, his face lined with worry as he made his way down the aisle toward Casgor. If there were anyone who had more at stake with this vote than Casgor, it was him. “Wyllaver just reported in with me,” Gebhard said as he came up beside Casgor. “His office received the latest draft of the offensive measure, which was submitted by the Redwater Elders this morning. It has been filled with new amendments. He hasn’t had time to go through any of them yet.”
“That’s not surprising,” muttered Casgor. “No doubt Amadeus Evenstar slipped in a number of things meant to bribe various Elders into voting along with him. It’s a desperate move, nothing more.”
“Still, if it were to pass, who knows what type of changes have been made?” Gebhard said. “Need I remind you that once the measure becomes law, the only way to overturn it is through a unanimous vote by the Directory? And you’re never going to get Jamerones or Phenberg to agree to that.”
“It will never get to that point, I assure you,” Casgor said with a smile.
“I certainly hope you know what you’re doing,” Gebhard grumbled. “Pushing up a vote when you’re only ahead by one… this seems awfully risky.”
“It is a calcula
ted risk,” said Casgor. “Young Lord Evenstar has proven quite tenacious in his ability to hold his father’s alliance together. Given enough time he would most likely win the support he needs. If we were to wait any longer, we would miss our opportunity to kill this measure once and for all.”
“Still,” said Gebhard. “I feel as though the boy has something up his sleeve. What if his gambit works and he’s able to entice some of the Elders who’ve chosen to abstain to side with him?”
“He would never be able to negotiate that many deals before we push for a vote,” insisted Casgor. “Even if he were to get enough Elders on his side to tie with our coalition, the proposal would go to the Directory for the tiebreaker. Jamerones and Phenberg are for it, and Zersee and Ridsco are against it, which means I am the deciding vote, and I can assure you, I will be voting against it. This measure will fail, no matter what. Have no doubt about that.”
“I hope you are right,” grumbled Gebhard. “But I feel I should remind you what is at stake here. If I’m required to pull my ships to help with this blasted fools-errand, I could lose any number of Rim colonies to either Deathlords or succession. Not only does that weaken my income, but my coalition here in the council, as well. Right now, the only things my Legacy has to leverage are our marriage contract with the Princess and the votes our expansions in the Rim give us. If those expansions are lost, our influence in the Council of Elders dwindles and the marriage contract is as good as dead, as is my blasted Legacy! And like it or not, your fortune is tied to ours.”
“I am well aware to whom my fortunes are tied, Gebhard,” replied Casgor, reassuringly. “Do not fear. I have the situation well in hand.”
“For both our sakes, I hope that is true,” Gebhard muttered before walking away.
Insufferable fool, thought Casgor bitterly. I cannot wait until your time comes, just as Eudox Evenstar’s did. Casgor often had to work closely with Gebhard Skyborn and found he didn’t much care for the man. Though Gebhard possessed some measure of low cunning and political savvy, he was also incredibly stubborn and maddeningly principled. Why the Deathlords had chosen him to be their patsy, Casgor had no idea. All he knew was he wished they would either hurry up and kill Gebhard or infect him so Casgor wouldn’t have to keep listening to him whine about his pathetic Legacy all the time.