Bubblegum Crisis Fan Fiction ❯ Bubblegum Avatar #1 -- "Tin-Sell City" ❯ Chapter 20 - "Picking Up the Pieces...." ( Chapter 20 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Trboturtle 
Craig passes on some information to Leon, and Mason finds out that Craig has a very sick sense of humor.....
Anime/Manga: Bubblegum Crisis Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Sci-fi / Cyberpunk / Action | Type: Self Insertion | Uploaded On: 12.26.2005 | Updated On: 12.26.2005 | Pages: 4 | Words: 3.8K | Visits: 1.1K | Status: Completed
Craig passes on some information to Leon, and Mason finds out that Craig has a very sick sense of humor.....
Anime/Manga: Bubblegum Crisis Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Sci-fi / Cyberpunk / Action | Type: Self Insertion | Uploaded On: 12.26.2005 | Updated On: 12.26.2005 | Pages: 4 | Words: 3.8K | Visits: 1.1K | Status: Completed
**************
Chapter 20 - "Picking Up the Pieces...."
**************
Night was falling as Leon rode his motorcycle towards his meeting with Priss. He felt good, despite the frustrations of the day.
It had taken the ADP thirty minutes to send a detachment down to Aqua City. Daley had tagged along, looking amused as he climbed out of the car. "Not my idea of a romantic spot," he said with a smile.
"I don't pick them," replied Leon.
"What have you got?"
"Something strange."
"Define 'strange'."
Leon explained everything that had happened to him since he had started follow Priss. Dailey continued to look amused.
"So what do you want us to do?" asked Daley.
"Let's go and see if USSD needs a hand," Leon replied
"Do you think they want our help?"
"Only way to find out is to ask them."
Daley sighed. "I thought you'd say that."
Led by Leon and Daley, the ADP troops started down the causeway, moving in fire teams as they made their way towards the spires of steel and concrete. They were almost on the island itself when a voice shouted, "Hold it right there!"
The police officers dropped to the road or ducked behind piles of rubble. Leon shouted back, "We are ADP! Identify yourself!"
There was silence for a moment, then the voice shouted back. "We're USSD! This is a secure area, under military control!"
"This area is in our jurisdiction. You have no authority to be here!"
"Wait a minute!" there was silence, then the voice shouted. "The officer in charge of the situation is coming out to talk to you!"
Three tense minutes passed before a figure walked out of the darkness of Aqua City and onto the causeway. "I want to speak to you commanding officer!" a feminine voice shouted.
"Stay here," Leon said tersely to Daley and stood up. "I'm in charge!" He shouted, walking towards the USSD officer.
"Come ahead!" the woman replied.
Leon walked towards the figure until he was about two meters away from her. He slowly reached into his jacket and pulled out his credentials. "Inspector Leon McNichol, ADP," he said, flipping open the case. "And you are?"
"Call me Captain Smith," the woman replied. She stepped towards him, and in the growing light, Leon could see she was the same woman who had met the Knight Sabers.
"Well, Captain Smith, what is going on here?" Leon asked.
"I'm sorry, this is a military matter, and this entire island is temporarily under USSD control."
"Look," said Leon in a smooth voice. "I know there's boomers on this island. We are tasked with the investigation of Boomer crimes."
"There are no boomers on this island."
"Captain, Don't play me for a fool. I killed one boomer here less then two hours ago."
Smith's eyes narrowed. "Assuming you're telling the truth, I cannot let you into the city until USSD is satisfied that there is no military threat."
"Look at my people," Leon said. "They probably have more combat experience then your people do. We can handle ourselves."
"That's not what I've heard."
"Cut the smart remarks. We're going in, like it or not."
"You leave me no choice." Smith gave Leon a cool look. "I am officially informing you that under the USSD charter, section sixteen, paragraph ten and eleven, I am declaring Aqua City a USSD security zone for the next twenty-four hours."
"What?" yelled Leon. "What the hell are you hiding?"
"I am also invoking section ten, paragraph six of the charter and declaring this entire situation a grade four security status. Unless you have a USSD security clearance of at least level five, I must ask you to leave."
"Look, you're, interfering in police business and -"
"No, Inspector, you look. You're interfering in USSD business and if and your men insist on continuing, you will end up in an international prison. Do I make myself clear?" Smith crossed her arms. "The only way you're coming onto this island is by force, and I am certain neither one of us want that, do we?"
"I suppose not."
"Good. You and your men have five minutes to leave, or we will be forced to open fire. Your choice."
"Some choice," muttered Leon. All right, we're pulling back." He pointed a finger at Smith. "But let me make this clear. If I ever find out that you or anyone else at USSD was responsible for a civilian's death because of what is going on here, I will be all over you like ants over sugar."
Smith smiled. It wasn't a pleasant smile, but a part of Leon noticed that Smith was a very attractive woman. "Don't threaten me, Inspector," she said cooly. "I have been threatened by experts and you're no expert." She stepped back "You have four and a half minutes."
It took the ADP troopers four minutes to retreat across the causeway to the entrance. Leon had the troops wait at the entrance for two hours before calling it a 'night'. There was no signs of activity on the island, but Leon knew something was going on. After leaving a squad to keep an eye on things, the rest of the unit returned to headquarters.
After a hasty breakfast and four hours of sleep, Leon spent two hours writing the incident report. After a half an hour argument with Chief Todo over the contents of his report, he got a late lunch, went home and got two more hours of sleep, then get ready for his meeting with Priss. He had hoped that Nene could hack into the USSD files and see if she could find something on this Captain Smith, but the redhead had the day off. He promised himself he would start digging tomorrow.
He had decided to get to the Funy Day burger place early, just in case. He glanced at his watch as he pulled into the parking lot, noting he had twenty minutes to kill before Priss should arrive. He frowned as he noticed a big black motorcycle parked in the lot.
He glanced towards the Funy Day, and there, sitting in a booth that looked out onto the parking lot was Johansson, munching on a burger while reading a book. He glanced up, saw Leon, and a small smile crept onto his face.
Leon frowned, then walked towards the front door. He entered, and ignoring Johansson, order a burger, fries, and a drink. Carrying his food on a tray, he walked over to the booth where Johansson was sitting. "May I sit here?" he asked.
Johansson looked up at him and smiled. "Sure thing, Ace. Grab a seat and take a load off your feet." He closed the book and left it on the table. Leon noticed the title - The Art Of War.
Leon slid into the booth. "Interesting reading."
The smaller man shrugged. "Written over two thousand years ago, and still relevant."
"I can take it or leave it," Leon replied. "What brings you here?"
"I thought you would be here."
"Oh?" Leon narrowed his eyes. "You have something for me?"
"I think I do. Do USSD and Aqua City ring a bell?"
"How do you know that?"
Johansson sighed. "I got a phone call from the Songbird of the Fault early this morning. Very early. I was in the middle of delicate negotiations with a stacked blonde at the time, and...." He stopped when he saw Leon's expression. "Anyway, Priss told me what happen, and wanted me to do some digging into what the hell went on last night. So I dug."
"And?"
"Well, I have no idea what you do or don't know. Remember, Ace, I wasn't there last night. All I know is what Priss told me and what I dug up."
Leon summarized the events of the last twelve hours, while Johansson listened. After Leon finished, the bearded man leaned back and nodded slowly. "This Captain Smith," he said slowly. "Could you describe her?"
"I would say she was about a hundred and seventy, a hundred and seventy-five centimeters tall, with a slender build. Attractive, blonde hair, with blue eyes. Why?"
"Because USSD doesn't have a Captain Smith assigned to the Far East headquarters, especially a good looking one, like you described."
"They could have brought her from outside."
Johansson shook her head. "I don't think so. Something happen two nights back at USSD headquarters, something that had the entire command on edge."
"Any ideas?"
"All I could find out was the a name - Hikigane."
Leon frowned "Trigger? Did you find anything else?"
"Not much, Ace. Something happened involving this Hikigane, something that panicked the brass, all the way up to Schwarz himself. They had the entire Asian basin on a quiet alert and were searching for something. If it's any help, the alert was rescinded about twelve hours ago."
"Could the search involve a little girl?"
"You've got me. I was lucky to get Hikigane. I also got a couple of names that are somehow linked to this Hikigane."
"What names?"
"One is Captain Amanda Rowley. She's USSD, she's assigned here, and she may have been your Captain Smith. The other is a F. G. Frederick, but I don't have anything on him." Johansson took another bite of his burger. "There was some sort of scramble from USSD HQ last night, led by Rowley. I think they found what they were looking for."
"What about Priss? How did she get involved?"
"I have no idea. Priss didn't go into details, and I didn't press her. There was a car wreck with two dead boomers on the Keihin 5 about the time and place Priss said she escaped. You can find out that information quicker then I can."
"Anything else?"
"Nothing of any meaning." Johansson thought for a second. "I did hear that most of the top brass of USSD spent the night in the fallout shelters."
"Why would they do that?"
"You're the detective, Ace. You figure it out."
"All right. You've given me something. Can you dig around some more?"
"I'll try, but I don't want to push. USSD is not someone I want after my ass."
"Do what you can."
The didn't continue the conversation. Leon split his time between his food and looking out the window for Priss. Johansson went back to his book and eat while he read. When he finished eating, He stood, tucked the book under his arm, and said to Leon, "See you later Ace."
Leon watched the information broker walk out to his bike. As Johansson got on the machine, a familiar red motorcycle pulled into the parking lot. Priss removed her helmet, glared at Johansson, then spotted Leon and scowled at him. Johansson said something to Priss, and the singer's expression didn't improve. As Johansson continued talking, her expression became less stormy. After a minute, Priss stalked toward the front door of Funy Day, while Johansson put on his helmet, and started his bike's engine. Before Priss reached the door, Johansson was out of the parking lot and down the road.
Priss bought her food and walked over to Leon's booth. She slid in without saying a word, but her gaze was still cool.
"Rough day?" he asked pleasantly
The look she gave him made him wonder if maybe he had made a mistake in setting up this date. "Before you ask," she said in a soft, but firm voice, "I don't want to talk about this morning."
"Fair enough. I wanted to make sure you're all right."
"I'm fine. A bit bruised, but nothing serious."
"I'm glad to see you're all right."
Priss nodded slowly, and unwrapped a burger. "What was Viking doing here?" she asked.
Leon shrugged. "He was relaying some information about this morning's incident."
"I see. He didn't give you any advice to you about me, did he?"
"Not a word. He is a strange person."
"You would not believe how strange he is. I hope he gave you something you can use."
"He gave me a couple of leads. How was your day?"
"I survived."
Leon gave his warmest smile. "Would you like to go for a ride after dinner?"
Priss looked at him. "Maybe. If you're not a jerk."
Leon decided to continue eating. Johansson was right about Priss. She wasn't going to be an easy person to know. It would take time, and somehow, he was looking forward to taking that time....
**************
Mason walked off the elevator and walked toward his office. It had been thirty hours since the aborted attempt to retrieve Hikigane, and his disposition had not be improved by the time passed.
USSD had the black box boomer again. That much he had discovered, but where they had taken it afterwards he did not know. His agents inside the military organization also confirmed that all the boomers he'd assigned to the protection of Hikigane had been destroyed.
He entered the outer office. The secretary, a top of the line sectorial boomer, looked up as he entered. "Good morning Mr. Mason," she said in a warm voice.
Mason stopped before her desk. "Any messages?" he asked curtly.
The boomer didn't respond to Mason's tone. "The Chairman wishes to have lunch with him to discuss the District Three projects. Mr. James wants your approval for additional materials for the Kesi factory project. Dr. Ming called to remind you that the reactivation of Largo is scheduled for three o'clock this afternoon. There are no other messages."
Mason nodded and walked into his office. It took him a few seconds to take his new decor, but when he did, his bellow of anger could be heard all the way out into the corridor. A trio of security boomers, hearing the scream, charged into Mason's office.
Only, it wasn't an office any more.
They found Mason standing in the middle of a baby's room. The walls had been pained pink, with cute bunnies stenciled in a staggered pattern. There were several pictures of fluffy animals in place of the post-impression art that usually hung on the wall. The carpet had been changed to one more benefitting a nursery. Instead of a desk, a large wooden crib sat, rocking slowly with the aid of a small motor. The file cabinets had been replace with a changing table, a bureau and a playpen. Lullabies were playing over the office's speakers. There were several stuff toys lying around, including one of a panda holding a sign that read: UNLIKE MASON, I'M JUST A LITTLE OLD HARMLESS PANDA.
Mason's expression was one of pure unbridled fury. He stood there, fists clenched, shaking in anger as he looked around the room. "Who did this?" he hissed.
One of the guard boomers pointed to the crib. "There is a piece of paper lying on the mattress, Sir."
Mason strode over to the crib and snatched up the paper. It said:
Mason,
I thought you might like the new decor, seeing as it is more you style, that of
a spoiled two-year-old. Several of my friends did this for me, and I think they did a
great job of brining out your inner child for all the world to see. We tried to find you a
nanny, but we couldn't find one in time. If you don't like it and if you hurry, you might
be able to save your former office furniture before it gets incinerated.
We tried to find a way to show off your true inner self in the decor, but do you
know hard it is to find slime? And snakes? We thought of leaving a poisoned snake or
two around in the vain hope one would bite you, but we didn't want the lingering deaths
of innocent creatures on our conciseness, a problem you do not seem to have.
Consider this the opening salvo in the renewal of out contest. I thought you
were a slimball when I first met you, and my opinion of you has gotten worse since then.
If it is any comfort to that small organ (assuming it exists) between your legs, Miss
Stingray has refused to have anything to do with me since our little conversation. So, I
blame you for that also.
Hope you have a short and unsuccessful life, and you remember to change your
diapers.
Signed,
Bert Van Vliet
Mason crumpled the paper slowly. "You are a dead man," he hissed, his eyes burning in fury. He spun to face the security boomers. "You two!" he snapped, "Get down to the waste disposal plant and order them to shut down all incinerators. I want every trash receptacle searched for my office furniture and I want it done now!" The two boomers nodded and left running.
Mason spun to face the third disguised boomer. "You are to stand outside my - this room and let no one in without my permission! No one! Is that clear?"
"Yes Sir."
"Then what are you waiting for? Start guarding!" The boomer strode out of the room.
If this is the way you want to play it, Van Vliet, or whatever your real name is, Mason thought coldly. Then so be it. But I'm going to be the one pissing on your grave - count on it....
**************
Epilogue
**************
[A victory!] said the younger entity.
*Do not gloat yet,* said the older entity, the one who called himself Ishmael. *We have won a battle, but not the war.*
[But it is a start!]
*And that is all it is. Our opponent is still very much in this fight.*
[True.] The younger entity sounded more sober now. [I'm not sure of the Avatar's actions in regards to Mason. Don't they seem a bit -]
*Petty? Childish?*
[Are they not?]
*They are, but it's childishness with an adult reason behind it. The Avatar cannot physically strike directly at Mason, so he strikes at Mason's mental condition.*
[Is his actions wise?]
*Maybe not, but he is definitely having an effect on Mason's stability.*
[It is a gamble. Mason might decide to do something that could lead to the deaths of thousands.]
*This entire situation is nothing but a series of gambles. Our opponent gambled by breaking the rules. We gambled by sending in our own Avatar to oppose them. Now, our Avatar is gambling by pushing Mason with infantile stunts. All we can do is observe and hope our gamble pays off.*
[The Avatar's actions have been somewhat surprising.]
*That's one of the reason why I chose him. His approach to certain things is unorthodox.*
[Unorthodox? That is putting it mildly.]
*Actually, it is somewhat amusing to watch him.*
[Amusing? Why do you say that?]
*Because he doesn't try to take things head-on, like some of the others we have used.*
[We didn't send him there for our entertainment!]
*Patience. The lack of that and your characteristic of always being serious are your greatest failings. That is why you were assigned to me.* Ishmael was silent for a minute. *He is not there for our amusement, but we can allow ourselves to be amused when the situation calls for it. Do you know why I have been successful in this role?*
[No.]
*Because I do not always scrutinize every move the Avatars under my watch make. I do not second guess them.*
[But you have a responsibility! You have -]
*I must give them complete freedom in their action, even if they are not aware of my thoughts on their actions.*
[But that is not the way we -]
*No it is not,* said Ishmael. *Some of us have grown distant from our responsibilities. They watch with coldness, their Avatars no better the game pieces. I cannot allow myself to do that. So, I allow myself to become emotionally involved with the Avatar under my observation. If they do something funny, I am amused. If they are hurt, I am concerned. If they die, I feel sorrow. I am involved with the timelines I oversee. I cannot watch all this and not be involved.*
[But your involvement is -]
*Necessary. If I forget that they are beings with hopes and dreams, then I become as bad as our opponents. We may claim that we serve the Light, but if we resort to the altitudes and tactics of those who serve the Dark, then what is the difference between us?*
The younger entity sounded troubled. [You have given me something to think about.]
*Good. Never think you know everything, and never allow yourself to lured into a feeling of security. Our purpose is important, but never lose site of why it is important. I think you should think about what I have said. We will discuss this at another time.*
Chapter 20 - "Picking Up the Pieces...."
**************
Night was falling as Leon rode his motorcycle towards his meeting with Priss. He felt good, despite the frustrations of the day.
It had taken the ADP thirty minutes to send a detachment down to Aqua City. Daley had tagged along, looking amused as he climbed out of the car. "Not my idea of a romantic spot," he said with a smile.
"I don't pick them," replied Leon.
"What have you got?"
"Something strange."
"Define 'strange'."
Leon explained everything that had happened to him since he had started follow Priss. Dailey continued to look amused.
"So what do you want us to do?" asked Daley.
"Let's go and see if USSD needs a hand," Leon replied
"Do you think they want our help?"
"Only way to find out is to ask them."
Daley sighed. "I thought you'd say that."
Led by Leon and Daley, the ADP troops started down the causeway, moving in fire teams as they made their way towards the spires of steel and concrete. They were almost on the island itself when a voice shouted, "Hold it right there!"
The police officers dropped to the road or ducked behind piles of rubble. Leon shouted back, "We are ADP! Identify yourself!"
There was silence for a moment, then the voice shouted back. "We're USSD! This is a secure area, under military control!"
"This area is in our jurisdiction. You have no authority to be here!"
"Wait a minute!" there was silence, then the voice shouted. "The officer in charge of the situation is coming out to talk to you!"
Three tense minutes passed before a figure walked out of the darkness of Aqua City and onto the causeway. "I want to speak to you commanding officer!" a feminine voice shouted.
"Stay here," Leon said tersely to Daley and stood up. "I'm in charge!" He shouted, walking towards the USSD officer.
"Come ahead!" the woman replied.
Leon walked towards the figure until he was about two meters away from her. He slowly reached into his jacket and pulled out his credentials. "Inspector Leon McNichol, ADP," he said, flipping open the case. "And you are?"
"Call me Captain Smith," the woman replied. She stepped towards him, and in the growing light, Leon could see she was the same woman who had met the Knight Sabers.
"Well, Captain Smith, what is going on here?" Leon asked.
"I'm sorry, this is a military matter, and this entire island is temporarily under USSD control."
"Look," said Leon in a smooth voice. "I know there's boomers on this island. We are tasked with the investigation of Boomer crimes."
"There are no boomers on this island."
"Captain, Don't play me for a fool. I killed one boomer here less then two hours ago."
Smith's eyes narrowed. "Assuming you're telling the truth, I cannot let you into the city until USSD is satisfied that there is no military threat."
"Look at my people," Leon said. "They probably have more combat experience then your people do. We can handle ourselves."
"That's not what I've heard."
"Cut the smart remarks. We're going in, like it or not."
"You leave me no choice." Smith gave Leon a cool look. "I am officially informing you that under the USSD charter, section sixteen, paragraph ten and eleven, I am declaring Aqua City a USSD security zone for the next twenty-four hours."
"What?" yelled Leon. "What the hell are you hiding?"
"I am also invoking section ten, paragraph six of the charter and declaring this entire situation a grade four security status. Unless you have a USSD security clearance of at least level five, I must ask you to leave."
"Look, you're, interfering in police business and -"
"No, Inspector, you look. You're interfering in USSD business and if and your men insist on continuing, you will end up in an international prison. Do I make myself clear?" Smith crossed her arms. "The only way you're coming onto this island is by force, and I am certain neither one of us want that, do we?"
"I suppose not."
"Good. You and your men have five minutes to leave, or we will be forced to open fire. Your choice."
"Some choice," muttered Leon. All right, we're pulling back." He pointed a finger at Smith. "But let me make this clear. If I ever find out that you or anyone else at USSD was responsible for a civilian's death because of what is going on here, I will be all over you like ants over sugar."
Smith smiled. It wasn't a pleasant smile, but a part of Leon noticed that Smith was a very attractive woman. "Don't threaten me, Inspector," she said cooly. "I have been threatened by experts and you're no expert." She stepped back "You have four and a half minutes."
It took the ADP troopers four minutes to retreat across the causeway to the entrance. Leon had the troops wait at the entrance for two hours before calling it a 'night'. There was no signs of activity on the island, but Leon knew something was going on. After leaving a squad to keep an eye on things, the rest of the unit returned to headquarters.
After a hasty breakfast and four hours of sleep, Leon spent two hours writing the incident report. After a half an hour argument with Chief Todo over the contents of his report, he got a late lunch, went home and got two more hours of sleep, then get ready for his meeting with Priss. He had hoped that Nene could hack into the USSD files and see if she could find something on this Captain Smith, but the redhead had the day off. He promised himself he would start digging tomorrow.
He had decided to get to the Funy Day burger place early, just in case. He glanced at his watch as he pulled into the parking lot, noting he had twenty minutes to kill before Priss should arrive. He frowned as he noticed a big black motorcycle parked in the lot.
He glanced towards the Funy Day, and there, sitting in a booth that looked out onto the parking lot was Johansson, munching on a burger while reading a book. He glanced up, saw Leon, and a small smile crept onto his face.
Leon frowned, then walked towards the front door. He entered, and ignoring Johansson, order a burger, fries, and a drink. Carrying his food on a tray, he walked over to the booth where Johansson was sitting. "May I sit here?" he asked.
Johansson looked up at him and smiled. "Sure thing, Ace. Grab a seat and take a load off your feet." He closed the book and left it on the table. Leon noticed the title - The Art Of War.
Leon slid into the booth. "Interesting reading."
The smaller man shrugged. "Written over two thousand years ago, and still relevant."
"I can take it or leave it," Leon replied. "What brings you here?"
"I thought you would be here."
"Oh?" Leon narrowed his eyes. "You have something for me?"
"I think I do. Do USSD and Aqua City ring a bell?"
"How do you know that?"
Johansson sighed. "I got a phone call from the Songbird of the Fault early this morning. Very early. I was in the middle of delicate negotiations with a stacked blonde at the time, and...." He stopped when he saw Leon's expression. "Anyway, Priss told me what happen, and wanted me to do some digging into what the hell went on last night. So I dug."
"And?"
"Well, I have no idea what you do or don't know. Remember, Ace, I wasn't there last night. All I know is what Priss told me and what I dug up."
Leon summarized the events of the last twelve hours, while Johansson listened. After Leon finished, the bearded man leaned back and nodded slowly. "This Captain Smith," he said slowly. "Could you describe her?"
"I would say she was about a hundred and seventy, a hundred and seventy-five centimeters tall, with a slender build. Attractive, blonde hair, with blue eyes. Why?"
"Because USSD doesn't have a Captain Smith assigned to the Far East headquarters, especially a good looking one, like you described."
"They could have brought her from outside."
Johansson shook her head. "I don't think so. Something happen two nights back at USSD headquarters, something that had the entire command on edge."
"Any ideas?"
"All I could find out was the a name - Hikigane."
Leon frowned "Trigger? Did you find anything else?"
"Not much, Ace. Something happened involving this Hikigane, something that panicked the brass, all the way up to Schwarz himself. They had the entire Asian basin on a quiet alert and were searching for something. If it's any help, the alert was rescinded about twelve hours ago."
"Could the search involve a little girl?"
"You've got me. I was lucky to get Hikigane. I also got a couple of names that are somehow linked to this Hikigane."
"What names?"
"One is Captain Amanda Rowley. She's USSD, she's assigned here, and she may have been your Captain Smith. The other is a F. G. Frederick, but I don't have anything on him." Johansson took another bite of his burger. "There was some sort of scramble from USSD HQ last night, led by Rowley. I think they found what they were looking for."
"What about Priss? How did she get involved?"
"I have no idea. Priss didn't go into details, and I didn't press her. There was a car wreck with two dead boomers on the Keihin 5 about the time and place Priss said she escaped. You can find out that information quicker then I can."
"Anything else?"
"Nothing of any meaning." Johansson thought for a second. "I did hear that most of the top brass of USSD spent the night in the fallout shelters."
"Why would they do that?"
"You're the detective, Ace. You figure it out."
"All right. You've given me something. Can you dig around some more?"
"I'll try, but I don't want to push. USSD is not someone I want after my ass."
"Do what you can."
The didn't continue the conversation. Leon split his time between his food and looking out the window for Priss. Johansson went back to his book and eat while he read. When he finished eating, He stood, tucked the book under his arm, and said to Leon, "See you later Ace."
Leon watched the information broker walk out to his bike. As Johansson got on the machine, a familiar red motorcycle pulled into the parking lot. Priss removed her helmet, glared at Johansson, then spotted Leon and scowled at him. Johansson said something to Priss, and the singer's expression didn't improve. As Johansson continued talking, her expression became less stormy. After a minute, Priss stalked toward the front door of Funy Day, while Johansson put on his helmet, and started his bike's engine. Before Priss reached the door, Johansson was out of the parking lot and down the road.
Priss bought her food and walked over to Leon's booth. She slid in without saying a word, but her gaze was still cool.
"Rough day?" he asked pleasantly
The look she gave him made him wonder if maybe he had made a mistake in setting up this date. "Before you ask," she said in a soft, but firm voice, "I don't want to talk about this morning."
"Fair enough. I wanted to make sure you're all right."
"I'm fine. A bit bruised, but nothing serious."
"I'm glad to see you're all right."
Priss nodded slowly, and unwrapped a burger. "What was Viking doing here?" she asked.
Leon shrugged. "He was relaying some information about this morning's incident."
"I see. He didn't give you any advice to you about me, did he?"
"Not a word. He is a strange person."
"You would not believe how strange he is. I hope he gave you something you can use."
"He gave me a couple of leads. How was your day?"
"I survived."
Leon gave his warmest smile. "Would you like to go for a ride after dinner?"
Priss looked at him. "Maybe. If you're not a jerk."
Leon decided to continue eating. Johansson was right about Priss. She wasn't going to be an easy person to know. It would take time, and somehow, he was looking forward to taking that time....
**************
Mason walked off the elevator and walked toward his office. It had been thirty hours since the aborted attempt to retrieve Hikigane, and his disposition had not be improved by the time passed.
USSD had the black box boomer again. That much he had discovered, but where they had taken it afterwards he did not know. His agents inside the military organization also confirmed that all the boomers he'd assigned to the protection of Hikigane had been destroyed.
He entered the outer office. The secretary, a top of the line sectorial boomer, looked up as he entered. "Good morning Mr. Mason," she said in a warm voice.
Mason stopped before her desk. "Any messages?" he asked curtly.
The boomer didn't respond to Mason's tone. "The Chairman wishes to have lunch with him to discuss the District Three projects. Mr. James wants your approval for additional materials for the Kesi factory project. Dr. Ming called to remind you that the reactivation of Largo is scheduled for three o'clock this afternoon. There are no other messages."
Mason nodded and walked into his office. It took him a few seconds to take his new decor, but when he did, his bellow of anger could be heard all the way out into the corridor. A trio of security boomers, hearing the scream, charged into Mason's office.
Only, it wasn't an office any more.
They found Mason standing in the middle of a baby's room. The walls had been pained pink, with cute bunnies stenciled in a staggered pattern. There were several pictures of fluffy animals in place of the post-impression art that usually hung on the wall. The carpet had been changed to one more benefitting a nursery. Instead of a desk, a large wooden crib sat, rocking slowly with the aid of a small motor. The file cabinets had been replace with a changing table, a bureau and a playpen. Lullabies were playing over the office's speakers. There were several stuff toys lying around, including one of a panda holding a sign that read: UNLIKE MASON, I'M JUST A LITTLE OLD HARMLESS PANDA.
Mason's expression was one of pure unbridled fury. He stood there, fists clenched, shaking in anger as he looked around the room. "Who did this?" he hissed.
One of the guard boomers pointed to the crib. "There is a piece of paper lying on the mattress, Sir."
Mason strode over to the crib and snatched up the paper. It said:
Mason,
I thought you might like the new decor, seeing as it is more you style, that of
a spoiled two-year-old. Several of my friends did this for me, and I think they did a
great job of brining out your inner child for all the world to see. We tried to find you a
nanny, but we couldn't find one in time. If you don't like it and if you hurry, you might
be able to save your former office furniture before it gets incinerated.
We tried to find a way to show off your true inner self in the decor, but do you
know hard it is to find slime? And snakes? We thought of leaving a poisoned snake or
two around in the vain hope one would bite you, but we didn't want the lingering deaths
of innocent creatures on our conciseness, a problem you do not seem to have.
Consider this the opening salvo in the renewal of out contest. I thought you
were a slimball when I first met you, and my opinion of you has gotten worse since then.
If it is any comfort to that small organ (assuming it exists) between your legs, Miss
Stingray has refused to have anything to do with me since our little conversation. So, I
blame you for that also.
Hope you have a short and unsuccessful life, and you remember to change your
diapers.
Signed,
Bert Van Vliet
Mason crumpled the paper slowly. "You are a dead man," he hissed, his eyes burning in fury. He spun to face the security boomers. "You two!" he snapped, "Get down to the waste disposal plant and order them to shut down all incinerators. I want every trash receptacle searched for my office furniture and I want it done now!" The two boomers nodded and left running.
Mason spun to face the third disguised boomer. "You are to stand outside my - this room and let no one in without my permission! No one! Is that clear?"
"Yes Sir."
"Then what are you waiting for? Start guarding!" The boomer strode out of the room.
If this is the way you want to play it, Van Vliet, or whatever your real name is, Mason thought coldly. Then so be it. But I'm going to be the one pissing on your grave - count on it....
**************
Epilogue
**************
[A victory!] said the younger entity.
*Do not gloat yet,* said the older entity, the one who called himself Ishmael. *We have won a battle, but not the war.*
[But it is a start!]
*And that is all it is. Our opponent is still very much in this fight.*
[True.] The younger entity sounded more sober now. [I'm not sure of the Avatar's actions in regards to Mason. Don't they seem a bit -]
*Petty? Childish?*
[Are they not?]
*They are, but it's childishness with an adult reason behind it. The Avatar cannot physically strike directly at Mason, so he strikes at Mason's mental condition.*
[Is his actions wise?]
*Maybe not, but he is definitely having an effect on Mason's stability.*
[It is a gamble. Mason might decide to do something that could lead to the deaths of thousands.]
*This entire situation is nothing but a series of gambles. Our opponent gambled by breaking the rules. We gambled by sending in our own Avatar to oppose them. Now, our Avatar is gambling by pushing Mason with infantile stunts. All we can do is observe and hope our gamble pays off.*
[The Avatar's actions have been somewhat surprising.]
*That's one of the reason why I chose him. His approach to certain things is unorthodox.*
[Unorthodox? That is putting it mildly.]
*Actually, it is somewhat amusing to watch him.*
[Amusing? Why do you say that?]
*Because he doesn't try to take things head-on, like some of the others we have used.*
[We didn't send him there for our entertainment!]
*Patience. The lack of that and your characteristic of always being serious are your greatest failings. That is why you were assigned to me.* Ishmael was silent for a minute. *He is not there for our amusement, but we can allow ourselves to be amused when the situation calls for it. Do you know why I have been successful in this role?*
[No.]
*Because I do not always scrutinize every move the Avatars under my watch make. I do not second guess them.*
[But you have a responsibility! You have -]
*I must give them complete freedom in their action, even if they are not aware of my thoughts on their actions.*
[But that is not the way we -]
*No it is not,* said Ishmael. *Some of us have grown distant from our responsibilities. They watch with coldness, their Avatars no better the game pieces. I cannot allow myself to do that. So, I allow myself to become emotionally involved with the Avatar under my observation. If they do something funny, I am amused. If they are hurt, I am concerned. If they die, I feel sorrow. I am involved with the timelines I oversee. I cannot watch all this and not be involved.*
[But your involvement is -]
*Necessary. If I forget that they are beings with hopes and dreams, then I become as bad as our opponents. We may claim that we serve the Light, but if we resort to the altitudes and tactics of those who serve the Dark, then what is the difference between us?*
The younger entity sounded troubled. [You have given me something to think about.]
*Good. Never think you know everything, and never allow yourself to lured into a feeling of security. Our purpose is important, but never lose site of why it is important. I think you should think about what I have said. We will discuss this at another time.*