Chapter 6, Part 1

bleakly

All right, zebras. Zebras zebras zebras.

Whatever the hell THAT meant. Had I been some sort of paranoid man, I would assume that the little square of glass was lying to me. But if there’s one thing I always do, it’s trust the images I see through windows.

No, wait. The one thing I always do is drink. That’s what I always do.

I pressed my fingertips against the glass. It didn’t look like a holographic display, but I couldn’t take any chances. I fired a few rounds through it.

The glass gave way revealing that it was just a simple window. Excellent, I’m good with windows.

The room I entered through the window was still full of zebras; the zebras were all panicky and would probably have liked to stampede at that point, but they were restricted by the fact that the room was only about the size of a basketball court. They settled for being a striped, turmoiling sea.

I surveyed my surroundings. There appeared to be a lot of abandoned factory-type equipment where there weren’t zebras. Maybe it was a Juicy Fruit factory…

There was a network of catwalks about a story up. There was a ladder leading to the catwalks in one corner of the room, so I decided to reduce my chances of getting trampled by accomplishing some vertical movement. Luckily, the spooked animals were still pretty afraid of me, so they stayed out of my way long enough for me to swing up onto the ladder.

I reached the top of the ladder and came face to face with a man wearing a labcoat and dark goggles. He was a short little bastard with a really pained facial expression. I was considering how best to give him a reason for the expression when he addressed me.

“Mister Bleakly, do you always have to break that window every time you come here?”

jacobson

I was finally prepared to initiate my incursion on the City estate. I had all the essential gadgetry, I’d reviewed the limited blueprints available to me, I’d cursed Thomas’ name thoroughly, and I’d shaken anyone who might be following me.

I was about a mile out from City’s estate, which I estimated put me a few dozen meters outside the bounds of his security net. I rubbed my hands and thrust them into my pockets for a moment to warm them and collect my thoughts. In my right pocket, my fingers closed around the Omnigun, which was still in the shape of a harmless fountain pen. In my left, my fingers touched the cold metal of the two clips of ammunition I’d considered necessary. It was not the sort of precaution I ever enjoyed taking… but in this case my objective was to recover young Miss Smith. They’d taken her by violence, and I’d take her back in like manner if necessary.

I slung my satchel of supplies over one shoulder and began walking down the sparsely lit street in the direction of City Hall. If only I had Thomas with–

I noticed the glare of a single headlight approaching behind me. That’s odd, that’s the fourth or fifth– Cold understanding gripped me. I pulled the pen from my right pocket and the clip of ammunition from my left. My stride lengthened, and I gritted my teeth. The countermeasures in my satchel should have at least allowed me to penetrate the first layer of City’s security!

The beat-up sedan with tinted windows and a single headlight slowed and pulled alongside the sidewalk. I must admit my old heart protested this series of events.

I stopped and turned to the vehicle, my fingers twitching on the dormant shape of the Omnigun.

The sedan’s electric window dropped away with a far-too-loud grinding sound. The face it revealed took me a moment to recognize, not because it was an unrecognizable face, but rather through sheer denial.

Cornelius City leaned out the passenger window. His eyes glowed a dull red, and his smile would have sent a lesser man to his grave. He spoke quietly, but the night itself seemed to hold its breath to catch his words. “My dear Gregory, not all security precautions are technological in nature. Not all of them, in fact, are entirely natural. Please, join me.” With that, the rear passenger door of the car swung open of its own volition.

I’m an old man. I’ve felt my body protest before. I’ve felt joints and muscles buck and disobey… but never in concert. My every muscle went as tense as an overtightened violin string, and, obeying a will other than my own, propelled me into the waiting darkness of City’s vehicle.