Max Rage: Twelve Punches To Mars!

by Jake Bible

  “No, shoot first and ask questions later is when you are going after an enemy or fugitive from justice,” the ship said. “That phrase does not apply to a rescue operation.”

  “Neither does shooting at all!” Rage shouting. “No shooting!”

  “I wasn’t planning on shooting,” the ship said. “That is why I’m trying to locate Captain Choosper’s personal signal. Are you not listening to me?”

  “I swear to God I’m nuking this planet the second I have the chance,” Rage muttered.

  “You will not get the opportunity, Max Rage,” the ship said. “Earth Corp has already announced that they will be deploying nuclear weapons upon Mars’ surface to handle the crazed Scorcher issue.”

  “They said what?” Rage asked. “They’re nuking Mars?”

  “Only way to be sure,” the ship said. “Apparently, they cannot guarantee that the issue can be properly contained to Mars and do not want it to spread to the rest of the system then the galaxy then other galaxies.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Rage said and rubbed his forehead. “Either they’re taking advantage of all this shit or this has been the end game from the beginning.” Rage shook with, well, rage. “I’m going to strangle Lord Sahndle when I see him. If he knew about this, then he’s one dead Ghej.”

  “I would not advise killing galactic royalty, Max Rage,” the ship said. “That might not work out well for you. I’ve heard stuff.”

  “Good for you, ship,” Rage said.

  “Why would Earth Corp deliberately want to destroy Mars?” Jack Connor, King of Mars asked. “Is it because of me?”

  “Why would it be because of you?” Rage asked.

  “I am rather threatening,” Jack Connor, King of Mars replied. “Perhaps they thought that my power was growing too much and one day I would eclipse their power.”

  “He doesn’t get out much, does he?” the ship asked.

  “Not for centuries,” Rage said and smiled at Jack Connor, King of Mars. “No, Jackie Boy, I don’t think it’s because of you.”

  “That’s a relief,” Jack Connor, King of Mars said. “Being a king is hard enough without having that kind of pressure on my shoulders. Not sure I could have handled it without cracking.”

  “Because you’ve been doing a fucking stellar job all day with everything else,” Rage said. “Ship?”

  “Yes, Max Rage?”

  “Have you located Choosper yet?”

  “I have, Max Rage.”

  “You have?”

  “I have.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  “Where is she?”

  “We are headed to her right now,” the ship said. “She is halfway across the planet. Not sure why she has gone in the opposite direction as me, since getting to me in order to leave the planet would be a good idea considering.”

  “That was the idea,” Rage said. “They should have been heading toward you this whole time. Can you get me intel on where she is located?”

  “I do not have much in the way of specifics since my sensors are very messed up, but I was able to grab a snatch of audio briefly before the interference was too much,” the ship said. “And, for the record, I am assuming we are going to the correct location. I no longer have a lock on her signal because of the—”

  “Interference. Gotcha,” Rage interrupted. “Play the audio.”

  The ship played the audio.

  “Oh, my!” Jack Connor, King of Mars cried as he clasped his hands to his ears. “What is that abominable noise?”

  Rage sighed.

  “That would be Junior,” Rage said. “Singing. Now I get the whole mime aspect of an a cappella mime troupe. I’ll never make fun of it again. Turn it off, ship.”

  “Why? I find it rather soothing,” the ship said.

  “You’re also not a living being,” Rage said. “If you were, you’d understand that the noise we are hearing should be killed with fire.”

  “In exactly one and one-half hour, it will be,” the ship said. “Nuclear fire.”

  Rage sat up straight. “Do what now?”

  “In one and one-half hours, Earth Corp will be nuking Mars,” the ship said. “Did I not mention the time frame before?”

  “Nope. You left that part out,” Rage said. “How long until we reach the last known location of Choosper’s signal?”

  “Twenty minutes,” the ship said.

  “Oh, I can do maths very well,” Jack Connor, King of Mars said. “Let me see. That would mean we have—”

  “Seventy minutes to rescue them and get our asses as far away from Mars as possible,” Rage said. “Ship? What weapons are onboard?”

  “Uh…”

  “Ship? Why aren’t you answering?” Rage asked. “Don’t tell me that a being hired as overwatch doesn’t have an armory.”

  “I would not tell you that at all, Max Rage,” the ship said. “Because there is a great and vast armory below decks.”

  “Then what’s the problem?” Rage asked.

  “Green line,” the ship said. “I believe the term is honey pot. If you could not be lured into the cage, then the armory was set up as the secondary trap.”

  “Jackie Boy!” Rage yelled and made the King of Mars jump. “You’re going down to the armory for me! I’m going to tell you what to grab! You will bring it all back to me, understand?”

  “Yes,” Jack Connor, King of Mars said. “No.”

  “I will assist,” the ship said. “Tell me what you need and I will direct Jack Connor, King of Mars to pick those items and return to you with them.”

  “Good idea,” Rage said. “Jackie Boy, get a move on. We don’t have much time and I need to be ready for a rescue mission the second we arrive.”

  “Of course,” Jack Connor, King of Mars said. “Is there a wheelbarrow? Or dolly? Perhaps a medium-sized cart? I have a feeling the list will be large.”

  “It is,” Rage said and rattled off all of the items he wanted.

  “Yes, that is a large list,” Jack Connor, King of Mars said. “Ship?”

  “There is a cart waiting in the armory,” the ship said. “I will light the path. We now are fifteen minutes out from the last known location of Captain Choosper.”

  “And sixty-five minutes from nuclear destruction,” Rage said. “Get going, Jackie Boy!”

  Forty

  “Of course,” Rage said. “A party barge link up. Kinda fits the theme of this entire crap hell of a job.”

  Rage stood at the edge of an open hatch and stared down at the dozen or so party barges that were all linked together into one floating, throbbing, music blaring, throw down of a party. He tried scanning with his eye implant, but it was glitchy like everything else and he couldn’t pick out anyone he was looking for.

  Not that he thought he could. The amount of blacklight and strobing flashes was so overwhelming that Rage knew he’d be getting a migraine well before he got away from Mars.

  “Are you sure this is a wise plan?” Jack Connor, King of Mars asked as he stood a meter back from Rage. “There are a lot of Scorchers down on those barges. Even with all of your armaments, they could overwhelm you. You did tell Tatti that the Scorchers were way harder than Velpoohians.”

  “I also didn’t have a nutso Kalanip’s armory at my disposal,” Rage said and patted the dozen dual plasma, laser-guided hot rocket launching, never-empty Axis combat rifles he had strapped to the heavy-duty combat armor he wore. He also patted the dozen pistols that ringed his waist. “Choosper’s obsession, and intimate knowledge of my physical measurements, is a plus at this moment. And with the ship’s last-minute help, these now work on party barges.”

  “We will be in position in three seconds,” the ship said. “Two and one.”

  “See ya, Jackie Boy!” Rage yelled then jumped from the hatch.

  He spread his arms and legs wide to slow his descent and waited for the last second before deploying the braking chutes the armor possessed. His body jolted and he almost stopped dead mida
ir, but he was still falling just not as fast.

  Rage landed in the link up’s center party barge and the blaring music came to a screeching halt. The party barge was much larger than the one he’d been on before. Much larger. It held close to two hundred Scorchers, many of them looking like they’d killed quite a few of their Scorching Dude friends before hopping onto the barge. Rage wasn’t sure why they weren’t killing each other. But he’d ask later.

  Rage straightened up and pulled two dual plasma, laser-guided hot rocket launching, never-empty Axis combat rifles free from his armor. He spun in a slow, careful circle and shouted, “Alright, scumbags! I am looking for a black-skinned human, a headless Starsch, a nutso Kalanip, a Jamba, a green-haired human doofus, and a Ghej! Oh, and a shrunken Sphuncter too! Tell me where they are and I won’t kill every last one of you fucks!”

  No one responded. Not only did they not respond, they didn’t seem to really care. Most of the Scorchers were giving Rage a bored, almost sad look of pity.

  “I am not kidding here, people!” Rage yelled. “I will start shooting!”

  “Chill, man,” a Scorcher finally said. “We aren’t keeping anyone anywhere. Everyone on this link up is here voluntarily, man. So maybe calm down with the rifles, take off that armor, grab a drink, and get to dancing.”

  The rest of the Scorchers agreed and the music started back up. Everyone turned away from Rage and started dancing. Not one Scorcher tried to attack him. Not one.

  “I, uh, will shoot…” Rage shook his head. He pointed the rifles in the air and fired. The music stopped again. “What the fuck is going on?”

  “What do you mean, man?” the same Scorcher asked. “This is a link up. We’re partying, as one does.”

  “But you’re Scorchers,” Rage said.

  “Yeah… So…?” the Scorcher replied.

  “You were all killing each other. Look at you. You’re covered in blood and guts and that chick there has someone’s ear stuck in her hair.”

  “Oh? Is that where that went?” the chick said and laughed as she plucked the ear from her hair and threw it on the ground. “Oops.”

  “Oops? Oops! No, that is not an oops!” Rage shouted. “Why are you not killing everyone anymore?”

  Rage received nothing but shrugs as his answer. The music started again and he stood there, dazed for a while before he shoved through the crowd of dancing Scorchers. No one attacked him. Most of the Scorchers got out of his way and those that didn’t only gave him annoyed looks when he shoved them away. He reached the edge of the party barge and looked out at the rest of the link up.

  Dancing. Partying and dancing. Absolutely zero mass murder. No killing each other. He saw a few of the Scorchers screwing up against the railings of various other barges, but that was about as hardcore as it got. No death or destruction.

  “What the hell is happening?” Rage asked himself.

  He climbed onto the railing and jumped into the next party barge. More shoving, more not getting attacked. Rage even tried to provoke a couple Scorchers, but they successfully didn’t take the bait and went back to ignoring him so they could dance and have a good time.

  “I don’t get it,” he muttered to himself. “They were attacking the ships at the landing…”

  Rage thought back on it and realized that while they were blowing up the ships, they weren’t really attacking them. What they were doing was destroying them. They were stopping anyone and everyone from having a way off the planet. If The Rage hadn’t lifted off, then it would have been destroyed too.

  “Hey, you!” Rage yelled as he grabbed a Scorcher by her shoulder and turned her to face him. “You do know that this planet is going to get nuked, right?”

  The girl blinked a few times then smiled at Rage.

  “That’s a crazy get-up, man,” she said. “Looks hot. I don’t mean sexy hot, but sweaty hot. And not sexy sweaty hot, but bummer sweaty hot.”

  “It’s internally cooled, so I’m good,” Rage said and frowned. “But forget about my fucking armor. Have you heard that Mars is going to be nuked?”

  “Yeah, sure,” the girl said. “That’s a bummer too. We’re all going to die, but oh well, right? The party must go on!”

  The crowd whooed and hooed to her cry of the party must go on. Then the girl went on. Went on dancing.

  “Christ,” Rage said. “Phase two. Earth Corp didn’t want crazies getting off-planet so they programmed a chill-out protocol in the nanites. Keep everyone dancing and partying and you don’t have to worry about witnesses getting out. They already fried the comms systems, so no vid left Mars.”

  Rage smacked his helmeted forehead.

  “Fucking Earth Corp.”

  “Yeah, man, fucking Earth Corp,” a couple Scorchers agreed. They did not pause in their dancing to agree, simply shifted rhythm for a few seconds.

  Rage swiped at the wrist tab on his armor and brought up the scanning protocol. He switched between visual spectrums, hoping maybe one of the aliens he was looking for would light up on the visual overlay on the inside of his helmet’s faceplate.

  Nothing.

  He was going to hunt the old-fashioned way, barge by barge.

  Rage tried to contact the ship, maybe get some assistance with the search, but the comms were too messed up even though the vehicle was only hovering half a kilometer above the link up. He was on his own.

  Once more into the breach, Rage shoved and pushed, kicked and punched his way across barge after barge after barge. There was no sign of anyone he needed to find. Rage spun about and shoved and pushed, kicked and punched his way back to where he’d started. Still no sign of anyone.

  Then Rage smacked his helmeted forehead once again. He stepped to the railing and looked over the side. But not at the party barge he was on. He looked at the hull of the party barge next to the one he was on. It was shallow, no room for a lower deck. But the party barge next to that one had a deep hull.

  Some of the party barges had lower decks and some didn’t.

  Rage knew what he needed to do and worked his way back across the barges, skipping the ones with only upper decks and focusing on the ones with lower decks.

  Forty-One

  Six party barges later, Rage heard the distinct sound of a whine he probably would never be able to get out of his head no matter how long he lived.

  “But I like my hair green!” Junior complained. “I don’t want it pink and purple!”

  “Pink and purple hair is way better than boring green hair,” Choosper said. “Tell him, Bill.”

  “I am a magenta guy, but pink and purple is nice too,” Bill said.

  “Don’t do it if ya don’t wanna, bitch,” Grandmaster Scunge said. “Just say no to peer pressure, yo.”

  “If I had hair, I would dye it pink and purple,” Lord Sahndle said. “But I have tentacles which are far superior to hair. Tentacles have purpose, unlike your silly strands of whatever human hair is made out of.”

  “All of you need to listen to me now,” Scutter growled. “We can’t stay down here. We need to get off this barge, away from this link up, and back to the landing pads. Choosper’s ship is there. We need to get off this planet.”

  Rage turned a corner and nodded in agreement as he saw everyone he needed to see sitting in a very nice lounge area. Either they were focused on Junior and his hair color choice, or they were watching Rasco play some video game on the holo projector. Except for Scutter. She was standing in the middle of the lounge looking about as exasperated as Rage had ever seen her look before.

  “Max!” Scutter shouted. “There you are! You have to help me. No one will listen. The planet is going to be—”

  “Nuked. I know,” Rage said. “I have Choosper’s ship hovering above us. I got it off the ground before the Scorchers destroyed all the ships.”

  “The Scorchers are destroying ships?” Bill asked. “Not nice, man.”

  “Total bitch move, yo,” Grandmaster Scunge agreed.

  “Guess we’ll have to st
ay here,” Choosper said.

  “No, we are not staying here,” Rage said to Choosper. “I have your ship. It is hovering above. I also know about the cage you made to trap me in when this job was over. You and I will be having words once the nanites are out of your system. Some serious words.”

  “The cage!” Choosper exclaimed. “Oh, you will love it in the cage, Mr. Rage. Love it! LOVE IT!”

  “No. I won’t. Because I am not going in your cage,” Rage said. “But all of you are coming with me. Now. Before Mars becomes nuclear glass.”

  “That’ll be my next a cappella mime troupe’s name,” Junior said. “Nuclear Glass. Only eight members, though. Twelve was too much.”

  “Too many,” Lord Sahndle said. “Too many when talking about beings.”

  “They were a little much too,” Choosper said. “Even how they died. That was too much.”

  “Horrible end,” Rasco said and chuckled. “End.”

  “You all are high on nanites. Somehow they got in you,” Rage snapped. “You need to follow me now.”

  “I’ve been trying, Max,” Scutter said. “They won’t follow.”

  Rage stood there in his armor, which was total overkill in the party barge’s lounge, and tried to figure out how to handle the mess in front of him.

  “Why aren’t you affected?” Rage asked Scutter.

  “No idea,” Scutter replied. “Maybe because I died and was brought back? Could affect my neural pathways enough that nanites can’t take me over.”

  “Possibly,” Rage said. “Probably. Too bad we can’t recreate it and snap these…”

  Scutter frowned. “Max? I’m not liking that look you have on your face.”

  “Maybe we kill them, bring them back, and they’ll want to get off this stupid barge,” Rage suggested. “Really quick kills. There’s a med box in that panel over there. Couple shocks once they flatline and they snap back to life.”

  “Or they don’t,” Scutter said. “We have no idea what is happening to their physiology. And we aren’t killing the team.”

  “Hey,” Rage said. “Where’s Labous?”

  “He’s in the can with a Scorcher,” Scutter said and rolled her eyes. “Been in there for almost an hour. Never thought he had that kind of stamina.”