But in this case, that sympathy had dropped away. This had hit too close to home. Carmichael had destroyed Willowsby Hall, a building that was older than him even if he was really that Roger Carmichael. And the city had already lost another piece of history, Avalon's Hope, the day before. This was too much.
"Dane, you get those guys!" she howled at the television. "You get them and you make them pay!"
Carmichael was still laughing maniacally as the demon finished destroying Willowsby Hall.
"Report! Any damage or anomalies? How are our levels?" said Gustav.
There was a general chorus of no damage from Gustav's team. One of the closer workers had a lengthier report. "No anomalies, no problems. Everything within acceptable thresholds. We are performing as expected."
There were smiles all around, particularly from Gustav and his control team, but the self-satisfied smugness proliferated even to Colette and some of Kripp's men. Carmichael still held his manic grin, enraptured with his direct mind connection to the demon and the Terminus that held it.
"Now onto North Egan," said Carmichael. He gestured vaguely to Gustav, who had his control team start the demon walking east.
"Egan?" said Dane. "But Avalon's Hope is already gone. You've already destroyed that failure!"
"A worthwhile removal, Mr. Monday," said Carmichael, "but hardly all-inclusive. Egan is where the corruption began. Around my design they filled the neighborhood with half-cooked imitations, pretenders which fostered the city's infection. Is it not poetry that first we lop off the head of this False Avalon and then we move on to cleanse the initial wound with fire?"
"You're going to burn down Egan?" said Dane, trying to keep his conversation relevant and not merely comment on Carmichael's horrible metaphors.
"More than that, Mr. Monday, far more than that," said Carmichael with a grin. "The whole city is too sick to live. We must raze it to its foundations! But first Egan! This is where the cleansing fire shall begin!"
The Terminus trudged across the city. It was heading east out of Old Avalon for North Egan. Its clomping hooves cracked the street, shattered sidewalk, and crushed cars. No pedestrians were so foolish to still be on the streets and so none were crushed under its stomping hooves.
The buildings along the way were largely left untouched. Carmichael intended them all razed eventually, but he had an order of operations. First Willowsby Hall, then North Egan. So nothing was intentionally destroyed on the way. Of course there was unintentional destruction due to the swing of the demon's long arms, the licking flames of its wings, and the occasional clomp of its hoof down on a small newsstand. All the law enforcement that had originally assembled outside the hotel endeavored to follow the beast, even if they knew it was ineffectual. Tanks were on their way down from Fort Edgar, but they didn't know how long it would take for those tanks to arrive. They followed the demon at distance, taking a circuitous route up and down side roads to avoid the streets that were ruined due to giant hoof-shaped depressions.
Jack and the Channel 5 chopper followed the demon faithfully, though at a safe distance. Jack was still uneasy and the pilot saw no reason to take more chances. As they followed the demon, they noticed the sound of another chopper. Jack initially thought it was finally something military, arriving earlier than the rest from Fort Edgar, but when he and his pilot looked out the windows and found the other chopper, they were simultaneously disappointed and amused. It was not military. No, this was the less-fancy, slightly smaller traffic chopper used by Channel 8.
There were some snide comments made about the late-coming Channel 8ers by Jack and his pilot while the mics were turned off. Mitch Mendelson was the reporter in the Channel 8 chopper. An earnest reporter, Jack often saw Mitch as a low-rent version of himself. Where Jack's signature was an aviator jacket, Mendelson's signature was a blue Avalon Brassmen baseball cap and Hawaiian shirts. Both were trying to convey manliness (for overcompensation, in Abby's opinion), so of course they were enemies in the field and drinking buddies at journalistic events.
Both choppers relayed to their respective networks the trajectory for the beast and the fact that it seemed uninterested in destroying anything else for the moment. It was clear to everyone it was headed either to Egan, the river, or to the Husks. Even the networks had their fancy digital maps to give the audience the probable route and asked anyone in its path to please evacuate.
Law enforcement had also come to the same conclusion, though their maps were scribbled on paper and then photographed with a poor phone camera. It was enough for now. Until the tanks from Fort Edgar arrived, they couldn't do much. They had asked for jets, but for some reason, the governor was not yet giving them authorization.
The demon slowed its pace as it reach North Egan. Unlike Midtown or even Old Avalon, the buildings were not quite so tall. These were apartment buildings, not megalithic skyscrapers. The demon loomed over all the buildings even as it peered between them as if it were a predator lurking in the bushes staking its prey. With a quick screeching squawk, it found what it was looking for. With slow, purposeful steps, it walked to the still faintly smoking crater of what used to be Avalon's Hope. Some of the rubble had cleared and the two of adjacent buildings had been pulled down late yesterday. They had been far too damaged and constituted a further hazard for the city. The Avalon's Hope crater was now an open space in the heart of North Egan. It was here that the Terminus stopped and took in the scene.
Just like at Willowsby Hall, the demon paused and roared. Not the laughing roar, this was the blood lusting roar in the dual pitches, both screeching and deep. It was the howling from the deepest pits that was changed and transformed by the arcane building which trapped and channeled its energies.
Unlike Willowsby Hall, something came in response to the roar.
There was a loud explosion. Choppers whirled, looking for this new threat. The Terminus demon also paused to look. The explosion was not close, it had come from far off to the east.
The new choppers immediately rose higher into the air to get a better view. The Terminus appeared to stare eastward over the rooftops.
Across the river in the Husks there was a large cloud of smoke billowing from the ground. This pillar of smoke erupted from the midst of dilapidated warehouses, giving the impression that another Husks warehouse had blown up today. In normal circumstances, one might be inclined to dismiss this explosion as a repeat or continuation of yesterday's event. But these were not normal circumstances.
A loud siren ripped through the air, its sound erupting out of that pillar of smoke and magnified to uncomfortable decibel levels. Not quite as sharp a noise as the demon's roar, this was a fat sound that equally rattled the ears of any who heard of it. It lasted just a few moments, long enough to make its point known: your attention please!
The smoke had thinned a bit, revealing a dark shadow. A large dark shadow, one that was about fifty stories high. From the top of that dark shape a red light shined.
Then a loudly amplified voice spoke: "People of Avalon! Today our beloved city has suffered much from a cut-rate interloper! While you have waited and watched, a fraud of a man has suggested that our city should be destroyed for vague reasons! He has claimed to be the instrument of that destruction! Such nihilistic thinking is pointless! Hear me, Avalon! I will save you from this menace! Our beloved city is too good to be destroyed! No, instead Avalon will be subjugated under my will! Then a perfect Avalon will be built under my rule! First Avalon, then the world! So, people of Avalon, I will fight for you! I will destroy this... poorly designed robot in the shape of a demon! I will destroy it so I can conquer Avalon, as is my right!"
That large shadow stepped out of the smoke. The red light was a large scarlet circle that was in the center of a spherical head. That head sat on a bulky box-shaped robotic body. Long arms emerged from that bulky body, each arm thickening to gigantic robot fists. The legs were short in proportion, but by no means weak or lacking. Augmented with hydraulics and the finest technol
ogy, they could move the entire robot quicker than any would expect. The front of its boxy body was filled with a gigantic vid screen which held a face that was very familiar to Dane and his friends.
This robot was Professor Honnenheim's hidden doomsday creation. Left in storage for the proper day, Honnenheim decided it was needed. Lacking in the intended death ray, it was still a powerful megarobot in its own right. At fifty stories high, the Omega-6 was built without an equal. It was constructed to conquer New Avalon and eventually the world. And it was piloted by the one true ruler of Avalon, none other than Professor Honnenheim himself.
As the massive legs of the Omega-6 began walking across the Husks, uncaring of the damage its feet did, the robot's intention was clear. The Omega-6 was here to do battle.
The Conqueror and the Destroyer
"I can't believe this!" said Abby incredulously. "It's the battle of the megalomaniacs! What is wrong with everyone? We've got egomaniacs leaking out the cracks in this city!"
Abby had said this loud enough for anyone to have heard, but no one responded due to the shock which had settled over the entire control room. In his previously gleeful mood, Abby's comment would have resulted in some demeaning retort from Carmichael if he even acknowledged her at all, but the old man simply stared out the window with a locked jaw at the distant robotic figure, running over options in his head as the control room workers increased the volume on the television feeds they had brought up on their displays. Even the other friends group members had no immediate words. Gustav and Colette were sobered by this unexpected threat. Gustav knew that not even in their most outlandish predictions had such a scenario showed up. The very idea that there could even be a fifty story robot was unbelievable. The irony that he was currently leading operation on a fifty story demon that once was a historic hotel was lost on him. The demon stood unmoving, the entire control room not knowing how to react to the advancing robot.
The circling news choppers were unsure of whether to fly to examine the new enemy or whether to stay with the demon. They both called into their networks, which in turn set off a flurry of network executive phone calls, which then had the two networks talking. This happened in a few short minutes, and then the news choppers were relayed their orders. The Channel 8 chopper gave up on the demon and flew off to investigate the robot.
Channel 5's news feed suddenly went split screen. Tug Johnson explained: "For those just joining us, there has been an agreement. We welcome our new partner, Channel 8 News. We will be sharing news footage in a split screen. On the left is the footage from Jack Steadman, Channel 5. He will be staying with the strange creature related to the Terminus Hotel. On the right is footage from his Channel 8 counterpart, Mitch Mendelson. He will be filming this new development."
The Channel 8 chopper flew straight across the river to where Omega-6 was walking forward. The chopper kept a wide distance, not yet knowing the intentions of the giant robot or knowing if it would care about news footage. The demon had seemed to be indifferent to the helicopter so far, but they had no idea if that would change in a moment or if such an attitude was shared by this new combatant.
Besides its massive size, there were two features of the juggernaut that were immediately obvious to all viewers. First was its head. The sphere was featureless except for the very large circle on its front which shone with a bright red light, giving the impression of a large all seeing eye. The second feature was the very large vid screen on Omega-6's chest. On that was the bearded face of Professor Honnenheim, his eyes intense as he piloted the robot.
The Omega-6 was a massive box of alloyed steel. Shorter legs moved in a fluid cycle, the hydraulics loud enough to be heard even above the chopper's noise and the heavy thud of the robot feet. The two arms were thinner at the upper portion. At the elbow joint they expanded, creating massive forearms that ended in even more massive fists. Omega-6 was the flat gray of metal. Other than in a few places, nothing had been done to improve its appearance. It was not painted or detailed. There was a single designation on each of its arms: A white Omega symbol and below that the number 6. The 6 was raised so that the top of the 6 was in the space between the two sides of the Omega symbol.
"I'm not sure what to call this other than a giant robot," said Tug Johnson for his viewers. They had Channel 8's footage, but not Mendelson's commentary. Since Steadman was no longer the only reporter, Tug was commenting and interpreting events of the Channel 8 feed for the viewers, even though they were seeing the exact same footage at the same time. "I had no idea that such a construction could exist, much less be in Avalon. From what we can tell, it was hiding out in the Husks. Its initial message was confusing, so we're not sure of its exact intentions."
"I've made my intentions very clear," came the super-amplified voice of Honnenheim from massive speakers on the robot. "I'm watching your feed, Johnson. I can hear all that you're saying. My megarobot is designated Omega-6. And my intentions are simple. I will destroy this beast that has usurped your news coverage. And then I will conquer the city."
There was silence on Tug Johnson's end. "Those are some... interesting statements." He paused again. "To all Channel 5 viewers, I'm getting word that the government needs us to... uh... reduce our commentary. Just in case it further aggravates any of the... uh... terrorists."
"I am hardly a terrorist, Johnson!" came Honnenheim's voice. "I am the conquering force! I am Avalon's liberator!"
"Uh, we're going silent now, bye!" said Johnson hastily and nervously. The part of the screen that held Johnson's face disappeared and Channel 5's footage went to just a display of the split screen footage, even the text banners running across the bottom suddenly listing only the number for the Avalon emergency hotline.
Honnenheim merely harrumphed into his mic and then was silent as the Omega-6 ploughed forward. It had already made its way across the Husks and was now at the river. With much slower and careful stepping, it crossed the river.
At home, Jaya watched the footage with interest as it streamed across two monitors. She had her legs up on the desk, her hands holding a cup of tea.
"So you've finally done it. You've finally deployed an Omega unit," she said out loud.
While Jaya worked for him, the Professor had always talked about an Omega class robot, but she had not known him to ever be working on one. She looked at the designation on the screen. Omega-6. She wondered if the previous 5 were completely inoperable failures or if they were hidden away. She always wondered how Honnenheim decided his creations were ready, considering how dangerous and volatile the ones he actually used were.
The Omega-6 forded the river without issue. Like a man in a shallow pool, it simply walked across the river's underside, the hydraulics and gyroscopic calibrators compensating for the unevenness of the river bed. The massive titan still stuck out of the water as it crossed the current. Then it appeared to rise as it came up the western bank. Its massive legs lifted up out of the river, water raining down, and its foot thudded down onto the eastern bank of Avalon proper.
Now the distance between the two gigantic titans had been greatly reduced. Between the two was only a stretch of the elevated highway and the stumpy buildings of North Egan. The upcoming conflict was even more evident.
The robot paused in its march, coming to a still position. The only sound was the hum of choppers and the squeal of sirens. Honnenheim's speakers clicked into life.
"At least we meet, interloper! I do not appreciate you coming to Avalon with your own designs! Know that New Avalon is mine to do with as I please. I do not appreciate some... Johnny Come Lately and their cut-rate robot in a poor demon suit!" Honnenheim's gigantic face on the vid screen clearly conveyed his distaste for the Terminus.
"Did he just call me a Johnny Come Lately?" said Carmichael. The old man was seething with anger, his body tense and gripping the armrests of his throne with almost claw-like fingers. "I am Roger Carmichael! I built half of New Avalon a century ago! I will not stand for this outrage! Gustav, turn on th
e device that broadcasts my voice," he said with a wave of his hand.
"We actually don't have one of those," said Gustav.
Carmichael's eyes flared in intensity. "What? Why not?"
"It wasn't in our design spec," said Gustav. Then he backpedalled at a flare of Carmichael's anger. "And it wasn't in your design spec either! When we updated them, there were no listed requirements of broadcast communication. Not in yours, not what I got from Colette and the rest of the friends group! We designed this to destroy the city, not talk to anyone outside the rig. This situation is beyond any of our projected eventualities."
Carmichael's anger grew, but Colette stepped in. "He's right. Neither in your journals nor your original designs did you indicate a need to talk or communicate externally. You called them all lesser men - why would you need to talk to them? We all decided - and you agreed - that the press conference would be enough."
"They're right," said Dane. "And you're foolish to try to get angry at them. Nobody thought of it and that includes you. You're the great man, so that's more on you than anyone. Besides, you talk about how others are lesser men - do you expect a lesser man to be able to accurately predict the needs of a great man?"
Carmichael scowled and mutely conceded the point. "Fine. Gustav, what communication capabilities do we have?"
Gustav looked over to his workers and got only scared expressions in response. He ran a nervous hand through his hair. "Well, we could post something on Twitter."
"What is Twitter?" said Carmichael.
Honnenheim had not received an answer to his challenge. His opponent, the strange automaton that looked like a demon, stood unmoving, as if uninterested in his words. How dare they ignore him? How dare they insult him by not surrendering, not even offering some paltry reasons that Honnenheim would not accept for existing? This was just a further insult! Honnenheim let out another blare of the siren. Stepping forward, the Omega-6 used its gigantic fists to knock down a large section of the elevated highway so that it could continue forward toward the demon.
Manic Monday: (Dane Monday 1) Page 23