by Hugo Damas
Falk chuckled. A muffled thing which nevertheless made the woman hesitate. A switch was flipped inside his mechanical wrist, and something whirred and clicked into place, followed by a momentary revving sound.
What followed were a few moments of reactionary micro-events that not even Falk could follow. The flame erupted in his now detached arm. Bullets were fired. Chains snapped, and his body flew and spun around to the sound of chaos and mania.
Falk found himself on the floor mere seconds later. He grunted, kept conscious by the pain he found all too familiar since it wasn’t the first time his arm suffered high degree burns. The same fire that had caused the burn had also crumbled the ropes, so Falk managed to open the arm. He looked up to see he was in the corner of the room. The chair, still stuck to his legs, was in the process of deciding whether to catch on fire or not.
While he unwrapped the rope, he saw the shooter, a woman in track pants and jacket, lying to the side, clearly unconscious. The small engine on his arm was still fighting to try and get through the wall, burning through the fuel fast and violently.
Falk snickered victoriously and stood up. One of the chains had set loose and hit the woman across the face, which was exactly what he had theorized would happen. He was less hurt than he thought he would be, such was the benefit of good fortune. Of opportunity meeting preparation.
Falk stepped around the flames being emitted by his mechanical limb and carefully reached for the fist, which was clenched shut, with the middle finger oddly extended and latched onto a trigger. The arm was trembling beneath the force, but still considerably stable against the small dent it had created in the wall.
Carefully, Falk rotated the finger, dislodging it mildly, and then pulled it from the trigger. The flames died down immediately, and the arm fell. Falk picked it up and began the reattachment process.
He took a few minutes to attach it back to his stump, especially since his good hand, or rather yet, the one made of flesh and bones, was suffering erratic micro-spasms due to the damage it had suffered. Just more fuel to the need for vindication that was, more and more, taking over the core of his personality.
So many people vexing him. So many individuals seemingly bent on suffering the consequences of his wrath.
Falk looked aside at the woman while the arm whirred into a satisfactory clasping noise. Steam exited out the tiny exhaust ports in his shoulder and bottom elbow, dealing him a moment of acutely catastrophic pain that he endured with a hard clenching of his teeth.
Then his hand moved.
The woman moaned, beginning to wake up, so Falk walked to her.
Another person showed up at the door. The get up was different than the one used by Tech Guild members. This one’s attire consisted of a mechanic’s overalls over a tight dark suit, and smelter’s goggles pulled over the forehead, with every inch of him blackened by dust and gunpowder.
“Mr. Goldschmidt? It’s us, Led by Anarchy!” he announced.
“I know,” Falk said, allowing his mechanical hand to turn up and pop open the gun barrel in its wrist.
Falk shot the woman in the head without a moment’s thought. She had the gall to use ‘genius’ ironically? As if intelligence was a joke?
That is the problem with the common idiots of this world, Falk considered. Always too wrapped up in their own stupidity to even be able to--
“Heeey! We could’ve gotten information out of her.”
Falk looked at the young man, annoyed at having his considerations interrupted. The boy flinched.
“Trust me,” Falk said, reverting his hand back to normal while keeping the man’s gaze, unaware he was not wearing bandages around his face as he usually did. “She doesn’t know anything that I don’t already know.”
The man winced in reaction and looked away as if he had heard someone to his side. “Right. Of course, Mr. Goldschmidt. Come this way!”
He ran off, and Falk smiled. That made him remember, for the first time since he triggered his arm to free him, that he was missing the bandages on his face. And his ocular attachments. Falk was thus showing the crisped burnt surface of skin that the accident had made of his face, which would all be bulging due to physical exertion and the rushing of blood generated by his nervous system.
Falk would remedy that by replacing the bandages, and then he would have that talk with the chosen leadership of LBA, and after that, he would begin to enact the plan. Everyone who had irked him would then pay.
Without exception. Without mercy. And without further delay.
With his ears now free to hear, and the room opened wide, it instantly became clear that the base was indeed under attack.
“It took you a long time,” Falk told the young man, who was looking around the corridor, and nervously at that.
“Dunno anything about that, ‘m just an apprentice,” he said, defensively.
“To whom?” Falk questioned.
“Master Byrnes. Come now, sir, I need to take you to her.”
Amanda… Falk considered it. If she was behind the attack, that might mean she wasn’t the one tied to the Tech Guild. Although if she were, she would be the one most willing to get there first, since then she could guarantee Griff’s escape.
The young man led him through the halls, visibly stressed about the fact Falk refused to properly rush about after him. As usual, he was walking at a brisk somewhat busy pace.
Rushing, after all, was undignified.
The base now found itself duly occupied. Voices trailed the halls as weapons were discharged. Bullets vs. flames. Falk saw remnants of fighting, observing the bodies of men and women who had already passed away. Some were burnt, others were shot. The walls were singed and darkened from the use of flamethrowers, Byrnes’s choice of weaponry, but also riddled with bullet holes at some choice locations where the members of the Tech Guild had fought back.
Griff had really emptied out the base, or at least a large part of it, for the sake of fooling Falk into lowering his guard. It seemed they had all been placed back for the sake of this defense.
Falk was taken to a hangar, a different one than the one he had seen. It was bigger and with an exit to the outside, which was open. Right there, he caught sight of airplanes. Just seeing those mechanical marvel raised his mood considerably.
The Flyboys were each in the pilot seat of their respective airplane, all two of them. They were just then leaving the hangar to lift off. Ten soldiers stood guard, watching over him as he approached Amanda. She was waving the Flyboys away.
Amanda was wearing a leather jacket that was a bit large on her, where the back had a drawing of a tree on fire. Her straight red hair curtained over the drawing, mixing oddly with the flaming colors.
“Amanda,” Falk greeted.
She looked back in reaction, with a cocky smile on her face. “Well we--” It dropped immediately. “Falk! Your face!”
“It’s not any different than usual, I assure you,” Falk told her. “Moreover, it sure took you long enough.”
Her hands went and rested on her waist. Her jacket was left open to show a black T-Shirt. As usual, she wore no bra. Not that Falk paid that much attention to that or her skin-tight jeans. She was also wearing a purse, showing how her sense of style was as confused as it had ever been.
“The Flyboys were stationed in Neyerk, I didn’t want to come without them,” Amanda said, to explain the delay.
“In Neyerk?” Falk’s mind jolted, adapting his plan. “I see.”
“So what’ve you gotten yourself into? Why haven’t you contacted us? It’s been a while since Mohini died. Who are these people?”
Mohini, also known as The Eye. She had perished due to a fault in his temperament, but not for nothing. He didn’t really regret getting her killed since demonstrating to the Beasts the consequences of making an enemy out of Falk had been imperative and well worth her life.
Falk watched Amanda, unfortunately not behind the cover of his ocular apparatus. Seems genuine, he considered. “Tha
t’s what I sought to find out.”
“And did you?” Amanda asked.
Falk opened his mouth to talk, but she looked aside, interrupting the question herself. “Well, it doesn’t matter, we’ll find out before we burn the place.”
“Not taking it over?” Falk inquired.
“’Course not. We can’t just hold a base like this.” Amanda looked back at him, “come here.”
She took out some bandages from the purse and stepped into his personal space. He hadn’t moved or in any way indicated she was welcome to do that, but then she wouldn’t notice a detail like that. She wouldn’t be looking for it.
“Lemme take care of your fa--” Falk grabbed her hand with his flesh one, reaching for the bandages.
“Gratitude,” Falk said, grasping the bandages off her hand. He pulled a strip from it.
“Oh, Falk, your aversion to public displays of affection can be so adorable,” Amanda said, amused.
Falk rolled his eyes at her, angry, and started bandaging the ruined lump of flesh that was his face. “I’m still surprised you were the one to show up.” His skin protested, hurt, but at the same time, relieved for being out of contact with the open air and all its different particles.
“Who’d you expect?” Amanda asked.
“Not you,” Falk told her, managing to keep his tone of voice stable despite the noticeable stabs of pain. “The Fire Hazards at this frozen popsicle?”
“Fire spreads wherever it wants,” Amanda said proudly. “It melts ice, not the other way around.”
Falk scoffed. “Fair enough.”
Amanda Byrnes was the leader of a gang called the Fire Hazards, a road-specific nomadic group who worshiped fire like the true pyromaniacs that they were. She had a considerable intellect as far as interpersonal relationships were concerned, but not the slightest of interests in creating anything that wasn’t meant to burn down something else.
If she weren’t such a good cook, their relationship would have been much briefer.
Falk bit down on the bandage roll and pulled it free. “I am afraid, my dear, that this will have been proven to be a mistake on your part.” He handed the bandages to her.
“Really?” Amanda raised an eyebrow, actually curious. “How so?”
“Am I correct in assuming that Led by Anarchy has organized all its members?” Falk guessed.
“I know you don’t approve of the whole group thing, but it’s for a worthwhile cause,” Amanda said.
“Aiding the invading Beasts in their quest to destroy humanity?” Falk questioned.
“Yeah?” Amanda didn’t flinch or hesitate. Instead, she smiled warmly, “I figured you’d be excited to join in.”
“Hm, yes, I conjectured as much. I will have to disappoint you, my dear. You see, the Beasts have slighted me in the worst of ways, and they must pay accordingly. If I were to aid their efforts, the opportunity to exact such retribution would then be beyond even me.”
“Slighted you?” Amanda smirked, still not aware of the situation. “Darling Falk, they seek to do our work for us, what could they possibly--”
“They called me obsolete,” Falk confessed, near choking on the word. “I will teach them otherwise.”
Amanda softened her visage, shaking her head ever so slightly. “Come, darling, what do you care what beasts have to say? They only know destruction, and that’s the only thing that matters.”
“You haven’t talked to them,” Falk protested, frowning deeply. “They declared us inferior. Me! Inferior!”
“Darling…”
“I will teach them. Otherwise.” Falk scowled, clarifying that there was no changing his mind.
Amanda smiled warmly, biting her lower lip as she gazed at him suggestively. It made him uncomfortable. It was harder to hide it now that his eyes were in the open.
Falk looked aside in anger instead. “Where are my ocular enhancers?! My spectacles!” He demanded, impatient.
“Oh, Falk…you know how deeply my passion runs for you, and how I love every angry syllable that comes out of your erudite, marvelous mouth.”
“Amanda, please.” Falk found himself surrounded by too many people. At least three were watching them, but as usual, Amanda did not seem to care.
“Darling, I’m afraid we are one in this decision. For once in your life, please, don’t be so stubborn,” Amanda said, quite surprisingly.
Falk eyed her. He straightened up, standing tall, assuming a disposition of power and defiance. “You command me?”
“No…” Amanda allowed the word to play through pouty lips. “I suggest. I have to take you to meet the rest in any case, so before you talk to them, I suggest…you rethink your priorities.”
“Hmpf.” Falk had already done more than enough of that to last a lifetime. “I want my spectacles.”
* * *
They climbed onto steamboats, modified for greater speed, of course, and evacuated the island along with everyone else who had survived the battle. Amanda lit a cigarette just as the island suffered a series of explosions. She puffed pleasurably, watching explosions dying away, taken over by the flames. They flickered in the distance, veritable dancing lighthouses keeping hold of her gaze.
“It never ceases to impress me,” Amanda said.
“Death?” Falk inquired.
“Oh, please,” Amanda said ironically, retrieving a second cigar as an offering. “Want one, darling?”
“No,” Falk said, looking away from the flames, “I have burned myself enough for one day.”
Amanda chuckled and put it away. “You can be so sensitive, Falk, it’s positively adorable.”
“I know you only say those things to get a rise out of me,” Falk protested. “You can stop.”
“Well, seeing you flustered is also adorable.” Amanda said that, but she wasn’t looking at him. She couldn’t turn away from the sight of flames. “Of course, it’s not death. And you know that.”
“Nothing is as alive as when it’s burning up,” Falk quoted. “I remember.”
Amanda nodded in agreement. “A truly glorious perspective. I’m sorry you don’t share it.”
“It’s mad,” Falk stated.
“It’s absolutely beautiful. I only realized the meaning behind it years after I first saw it. It really is a magnificent visage. That’s fire for you. Undefined. Unlabeled,” Amanda said, her eyes glowing.
“It is not undefined,” Falk corrected.
Amanda chuckled. “Unknown is not a definition.”
“It’s not unknown. It’s what we see when particles are combusting, a perfectly understandable chemical reaction and transformation of matter into energy and gas,” Falk explained.
“Yes, a transition. If anything, fire is a state. A state of release,” Amanda said.
“Destruction,” Falk said.
“Sure,” she said, tapping her cigar and dropping cinders onto the cold waters. “But then, you are very much a fan of that, aren’t you, darling?”
Falk smirked. “There is a reason we associate, but I would never pretend to pass it on as something positive.”
“But it is,” Amanda said, smiling.
“No, it is negative. It is destructive and usually very bad, which is precisely why I’m such a fan.” Falk grinned.
Amanda shook her cigar thoughtfully. “Perspectives. Different points of view of the same thing.”
“Well, yes,” Falk agreed, oddly. Sometimes, Amanda was like everyone else and said some really pointless things.
Falk still wasn’t sure whether she was, or not, the one who had sold out his secrets. He wasn’t about to get chummy with her, and all was well since she wouldn’t think it odd. After all, he had just been humiliated and kept captive, so a foul mood was to be expected.
They disembarked on the shores of Norwayaka, and he rode shotgun on the five manned road vehicle that drove them to some village. There, he walked with Amanda towards the town hall, and once there, was taken to the village leader’s main dining hall.
Not all the members of LBA were there, of course. Not even all of the most favored ones. He imagined the others were busy carrying out errands and tasks, a thought which made him feel sick. How could the LBA have turned into something as dreary as an organization?
Amanda walked briskly and unworried towards one of the chairs and pulled it for him.
“Sir, if you please!” Amanda announced, playfully.
Falk frowned.
There was a lack of armed guards inside which greatly benefited him. Not because he expected conflict, he truly didn’t plan on initiating anything, but it would increase the tension for the others to believe that he might. At the moment, they clearly didn’t expect any problems.
Falk took a seat, allowing Amanda do push the chair into place as if a servant sitting a dignitary. She was casual about it, however. Then, she took another chair.
Around the larger-than-necessary dinner table sat two highly valued members of LBA and a third pretty new one.
The Magnificent Magician had a scowl on her face, but then what else was new? All the time, she felt extremely cheated, for some reason, but a woman like her usually did. She thought herself superior to everyone else, deserving of every laurel and success, held back by the mere fact that she was a woman. It was a silly notion, considering Amanda was right there at the top, and if ever she was to reveal those sentiments to be true, he would quickly educate her on how superior she was not.
Especially not when wearing that silly show get up. Falk had to fight the urge to laugh every time he landed eyes on that bright red cape tall top hat ensemble.
“Don’t mind her, Falk,” one of the others said, in the tone of voice mostly affiliated with the sight of dirt and rubble that permanently permeated the Mole’s very being. Every time he spoke, he seemed to be shrugging, even if he rarely did. “She had a… freaky experience.”
“Well aren’t you a riot, burrower,” the Magician said, squinting her eyes.
“You say that like it’s an insult.” The mole raised an eyebrow and, once again, one would have to look closely to realize he wasn’t, indeed, shrugging.
Falk recalled the Circus Freak, and what had been his mission. He glanced at the magician again, guessing at the motive behind her bad mood. It seemed that the clown had been successful. Seeing as she was the one sent to oppose him, it didn’t surprise Falk in the slightest that that freak of nature had come out ahead.
