Monetary disappointment
Macy was once again complaining. She was always running out of money every month because of the bills and supporting Ronnie until he could support himself financially and gain his independence. Those complaints were quite obvious and vocal and Ray couldn't ignore them:
- Are the bills huge again?
- No! I don't have enough money to pay them. - said Macy.
- Ronnie's education has eaten a lot of that money. - said Ray. - Recently he hasn't stopped talking about finding a job.
- He has to finish his education and stop thinking about finding a job. It's still too early for him to support himself. That's what we're here for. Ronnie should focus on his grades, because they've slumped dramatically since he got into university. - said Macy as she shuffled through the bills.
Ray could only partly agree with that statement. But deep down inside, his mind was split in half. It was true that Ronnie's education was important and that his decision to look for a job was rushed, but at the same time he had to acquire some experience somehow, which is a task further complicated by the current circumstances and Ronnie's condition at the moment.
- "Ronnie can't find a job with his everyday life being so hectic." - Ray told himself. And it was true - with so much uncertainty and variables stability was out of the question, even without the mere mention of his lack of work experience. - "University, search for a job, aliens... I'd hate to be in his place." - he said to himself again.
***
Huklin had a bright idea. While scooping through the unused hardware in his workshop, he found an old surveillance drone that he had not used since the updated models entered operation exploitation. Despite it being an older model and not having a cloak mode, it could fold into a more compact size and hide in tight spots. With the drone in his hands, he approached Retion and said:
- I need to see his Highness immediately! My idea might benefit the cause!
- You always have ideas, Huklin. Is this one, by any chance... a good one? - Retion said.
- You and your despicable scepticism! This one might aid our Majesty immensely and act as a ripple that could turn into a tidal wave! - said Huklin. - Where is he and what does he do at this very moment?
- He's observing his son's training as we speak and does not want to be disturbed. His Majesty deeply cares for his son, his only family, the heir to the throne and the cause, his end goal. - said Retion.
- Yes, yes, I'm aware of it. - as he said that, Huklin shoved Retion to the side and hastened his pace down the corridors. That day was a rather busy one. It was what the Hordes called "a collective training day". In essence, it was an occasion, on which representatives of all the Hordes gathered in a large arena and battled it out. The aim of this initiative was to elect a new leader for each respective Horde. Along with battles within each Horde, there were inter-Horde fights as well, which tended towards pleasing the Overlord, rise in his estimation and to eminence. This is why the corridors were buzzing with chatter and clunking weapons. Huklin had to navigate through all of the gossiping and arsenal and reach the Overlord before the final fights took place. Gibel had just won a very difficult duel and was now resting and tending to his wounds. Huklin stopped to check on him and more importantly, to find out where his father was and whether or not be was busy doing something at that very moment. Needless to say, Gibel was not gratified with the fact that he was being used as an information board.
- This is all you want, isn't it? If so, leave me be! - said Gibel.
- What else would I need from you, of all creatures? - said Huklin.
- One day I'll become your superior and you know it, Huklin. - said Gibel.
- Maybe, maybe not, but until that day comes, you'll still the menial who desperately tries to mimic and follow his father's footsteps. Let me tell you something, youngling: don't put so much effort into striving to be something you aren't or shouldn't be. Life is far too short for that. If I had more time, I'd share some more words of wisdom and help you even further, but for now I want to know where his Majesty is.
After Gibel sprayed his arm with juten and applied a layer of manot, he told Huklin while pointing:
- There, up the stairs, I believe. You can't miss it.
- Thank you, child. - said Huklin and left abruptly. Even though he was quite a tiny wisp of an alien, even compared to Gibel, he was fairly quick on his feet and flew the coop.
Shortly after navigating yet another labyrinth of gladiators, or future corpses, rather, Huklin finally got to his master. Two guards apprehended him. One of them said:
- You cannot disturb our majesty. Those are his direct orders.
- But it's very urgent and of possible extreme importance! I must speak to him at once! - said Huklin. Even with all the hullabaloo coming from the arena, Ren'ul managed to vaguely hear the dispute and ordered the guards to let Huklin pass.
- Of all the times you could approach me you believe that now is an appropriate occasion? - Furot mumbled.
- Sire, your interest might be aroused by this. - Huklin said and showed him the drone.
- What about it? - said Ren'ul.
- You see, sire, those... those low-grade life forms down there don't really know anything about our technology. Instead of going there with all the best hardware that we have, why not lightly tread, instead of stomping our way in? - said Huklin. - Should we lose one of these old drones while doing undercover surveillance and research, we won't fret so much about it.
- Your plan has some issues, Huklin. - said the Overlord. - What do you propose as a remedy in case the drone carries a vital sample and is suddenly knocked out of the sky? Are YOU going to go down there and salvage it for me?
Huklin bowed down. He did not consider that scenario. Thankfully he was blessed with quick thinking and said:
- If I round up a small team of engineers, I believe a small mid-range teleportation module would fit quite nicely. Our most recent drones can quickly teleport and the module's recharge time has been brought down significantly. - said Huklin.
- How long will it take and will it consume a lot of resources? - said Ren'ul as he watched one of his minions decapitate another in the arena.
- I reckon not too long and not too many resources. Send me your best scientists and I will turn this into a splendid research army, my liege. - said Huklin. It sounded like an opportunity too good to pass up; the Overlord would have an updated fleet of research drones without wasting a horrific amount of resources and with the prospect of possible benefits - just one of those pleasant scenarios. As the victor of the battle in the arena emerges among the piles of corpses, he declared:
- Victor, approach me!
The victor in question made his way forward.
- You progress to the final fray, in which you will fight Gibel! - said Furot. The crowd collectively roared and cheered. Soon they would know who would rise above the rest and into the eyes of the Overlord himself. The majority of the audience were hoping that Gibel does not win. Some were speculating that Gibel's victory would be rigged by the Overlord himself, seeing as he is his father, others believed that he has found a way to buy his way to victory. And then there were the many who believed and wanted him to die simply because of how irritated they were of him. They could not stand Gibel's constant verbiage about how he would win over the Hordes and replace his father on the throne. Of course, Gibel had no exact vision of how to achieve it and whenever somebody asked him, he'd say that he's "still working on the concept" or that he "has no clear idea yet". Either way, nobody had the real answer and nobody really cared. Except, that is, for Retion and partly Huklin. Retion saw Gibel's desire to replace his father as a natural one, a part of the order in life. Huklin's idea behind helping Gibel ascend to the throne was that Gibel was far easier to manipulate and therefore overthrow than the Overlord. By capitalizing on his immense desire and motivation, he would take the throne for himself. His biggest problem, however, was not the Overlord, but Retion, who alwa
ys protected his master. In other words, the end goal was not the biggest hurdle. It was the barrier that Retion acted as.
***
Tyler was giggling uncontrollably.
- Will you stop laughing already? We know you're essentially flying under the influence. It's not a crime... yet. - Ronnie said.
- Hahaaaa! I don't care. Soon it might be a law and I'll be breaking it on a daily basis! - Tyler said in between his chuckles.
- Ugh, idiotic. - said Ronnie as he opened up his map. - Where is this supposed to be?
- We were supposed to receive some address... - said Garret.
- Yes, but we don't have said address... yet. - said Ronnie.
Just as he said that, Ronnie contacted officer Bronco.
- What happened to that address you promised us? Are you looking for it at the bottom of a nuclear reactor or something? - Ronnie said.
- I've just found it. We could have done it ourselves, you know. - Garret said. - It's on South Walnut Avenue, am I right?
- Yeah, we should have... - said Ronnie.
- Yes, that's where the station is located. The guys are right in front of it. - said officer Bronco.
- Tell them to find a more hidden spot - it's far too open there. - said Ronnie. - Maybe... behind that library? Nobody would think of checking behind a library.
- What library? Ah, the Putnam County library. Good thinking there, kid. I'll call them and tell them to go there right away. How far away are you from Tennessee? - said Lawrence.
- Something like 35 minutes away, maybe? Hang on. - Garret said, as he calculated the distance. - 75 miles left. We can fly quicker than that and shorten our ETA.
- Do it. - said Bronco. - Call me once you've finished the job.
Lawrence hung up. Tyler was still laughing and still drinking.
- Are you ever going to be serious for once? We'll miss the money with you laughing your ass off the whole time! - Ronnie yelled.
- Relax, mate, I won't make a wrong step. - said Tyler.
Eventually the Trinity reached Cookeville, 16 minutes ahead of schedule. As they landed right behind the library, Ronnie used the time to think about who they were going to confront and how he was going to handle the situation. This was the first time he was going to use a firearm against another person and potentially harm said person. He didn't like that thought very much.
- It's all going to be fine, Ronster. We're not murdering anyone today. - said Tyler. - Because if someone dies, we instantly fall between the hammer and the anvil and we have to make sure that does NOT happen under any circumstance.
He was right. Lawrence explicitly told them not to murder the suspect.
- Sometime today, perhaps! - Ronnie was getting irritated at waiting for so long. The police officers finally showed up.
- Good afternoon, gentlemen. - the taller of them spoke. - Officer Bronco told us about your willingness to help us.
- "When he greeted us, I thought we'd end up searched for drugs, mate." - Tyler said to Garret through thoughts and giggled.
- You'll have to excuse my co... ahem, battle buddies. - Ronnie was going to refer to Tyler and Garret as "comrades", but he felt that that word was far too Russian for use in front of US police officers. - They tend to fool around quite often and it becomes very unhealthy for me.
- Alright, whatever, that's not important to us. Now to business. The man's name is Robert Keegan and lives close to the outskirts of town. Here's the address. - once again the taller police officer said. The address in question was obviously hastily scribbled on a scrap of paper.
- Is there anything else, anything specific that we need to know, that could be of use to us? - Ronnie said, as he scratched his jaw.
- He's known for being extremely unstable and is reported to have discharged firearms in the general direction of other people. Keegan's also not right in the head because of various severe psychological developments in... - the shorter police officer was interrupted by Ronnie:
- He's been molested whilst in primary school, am I right?
- Eh... how... did you know? - the officer asked.
- I had a hunch. - Ronnie was obviously lying. He read the officer's mind. - Is he, by any chance, paranoid? Why has nobody caught him yet?
- Yes, especially since the bounty was put on his head. - the shorter officer said. - The people are scared, that's why.
- Very well. Off we go, then! - Garret said.
It didn't take long before they reached the address, but there was a problem. There was nothing there, apart from grass.
- Is this a scam or something? - Tyler said. - There's nothing here!
- Wait, hold the phone. - Garret scanned the surrounding forest. - There's a hut... tool shed... whatever. That way, over there.
- I suppose they gave us the approximate address, then. - Ronnie said. - Right, come on. Let's see how unhinged our friend really is.
10 minutes of walking and skirting trees and the Trinity arrived at the location. It really was a small hut, obviously very loosely put together.
- I feel like I can demolish it by simply spitting on it. - Tyler said. The walls seemed to be quite damp-stained and the roof had a few holes in it.
- Uh, let's not do that. - Ronnie said. - I can see him inside. He's... looking for something, God knows what. Camouflage? - he said to Garret.
- Absolutely. - Garret said. - Wait, hold on.
- Ugh, what now? I want to shove his nose inside his skull! - Tyler was impatient.
- He's... he's got a sawn-off shotgun. - said Garret.
- So what if he has one? - Tyler said.
- It's illegal to own one in the USA. Plus... hold the phone... - Garret said.
- It says "incendiary" on that box. What does he need it for? Does he run around shooting killer whales or something? - Ronnie said. That made Tyler giggle. The giggle in turn alerted the criminal inside the house and reached for his shotgun.
- You idiot! Now you've done it! - Ronnie whispered angrily.
- Right, screw the cloak! I'm going in! - Tyler said and kicked the door, which easily fell down. - Don't you fucking move, you Muppet!
The old man aimed his shotgun squarely at Tyler's chest and squeezed the trigger. His skin and muscles were immediately torn and Tyler could not make a step forward because of the shell's stopping power and the steel cores in it. The shells that the man was using were not in fact incendiaries like the ones in the box, but M855 Core shells, which were also, rather unsurprisingly once more, illegal in certain states. The other shell went into Ronnie's right leg, which crippled him, but only for a split second. Garret reached for the gun, but the man quickly turned it around and hit him in the face with the back of the weapon, where the butt-stock is normally located. Upon taking a shot directly to the face, Garret immediately lost it and kicked the hunter in the side of the right kneecap, thus immediately bringing him to his knees. Tyler and Ronnie quickly recovered from their injuries and joined Garret. The hunter was not willing to give up without a fight, though, and tried to stand back up on his knees. Ronnie had a different idea:
- Whoa there! Have a fucking seat! - he said, upon pushing him back down against the wall. Then Garret grabbed him by the collar and snarled:
- Who gave you the right to shoot people in the face, huh? That's an instant criminal offense.
- You're the ones bargin' in my home! - said the hunter. - The hell do you psychos want, anyways?
- Oh, well, you see, what we want... we can't take it from you. - Tyler said. - Though what has to do with you is an injured bird. Hasn't mommy told you that shooting a bald eagle can get you into an enormous amount of trouble?
- Where's your proof? - said the hunter.
- Wherever your catch is. - said Garret. That answer agitated the hunter. - And the bird itself is here, buddy. We already know it.
A drop of sweat trickled down the side of the hunter's face, as Ronnie began to search around. In reality he wasn't searching around, because upon a quick x-
ray inspection he located the corpse of the bird in a chest underneath the floor. This was a ploy to put pressure on the hunter, so that he would hopefully surrender without further resistance and the boys could bring him alive to the police officers.
- You can't just walk in here and sniff around! - he yelled.
- Well, we don't recall committing a criminal offence and being under constant threat from the authorities. - said Tyler. - Now... where's the fucking bird, bruv? In case you refuse to tell us, we'll kick your fuckin' testicles in and once we find the bird, we'll drag your old arse all the way to the police station, so that everyone can see how much of a disgrace you are!
Ronnie reached for the shutter that was hiding the chest with the bird and lifted it. He then quickly yanked the chest and opened it for everyone to see. The wings of the bird were heavily perforated, its body submerged in a puddle of blood and feathers. The hunter was obviously not pleased with that.
- That's not... put that back! - he yelled.
- Why should we? Is this your dinner or something? - Ronnie said. Garret and Tyler giggled. - Are you going to cook this for your wife and kids?
- What? No! I don't got any! - the hunter said.
- Then why is it in a chest? Are you going on a camping trip? - asked Ronnie. The hunter had no answer to his question. - Well then, you're coming with us, whether you like it or not. - Ronnie said and lifted the chest, while Garret grabbed the hunter by the sleeve of his jacket and dragged him outside. They all flew together in order to save time, regardless of the risk of them being seen by pretty much everyone below them. Once the police officers saw the criminal, they were instantly taken over by awe. None of them expected anyone to catch a criminal and hand him over to the respective authorities this quickly. Tyler said:
- Here's your outlaw. This is the proof of his crime. - he pointed at the chest. - Now give us the money.
- Why should we just give you the money? - the officer said.
- There are many, many reasons for this, even without mentioning the fact that there's a bounty on his head. Well, you see, our mutual friend here has been using a kind of ammo that... hm, how do I put this... if it had a brand, I'd call it "Effrontery" or "Jail Sentence". Or perhaps... why not "I want to erase the children of the children of your children from existence in this dimension of the Universe with the simple press of a trigger"? - Tyler said, as he demonstrated the M17 tracer shell. The officer gaped at it. - Now, this sort of shell wouldn't feel too out of place in the barrel of a military weapon, but in the hands of a civilian, whom also happens to have all of his screws missing, mind you... I believe that we deserve more than the listed award. So... are we going to get paid or not? - said Tyler.
The Immortal Trinity: Inheritance Page 26