Live and Let Fly

by Karina Fabian

  "My friends?" I demanded.

  He sighed. Give the customer what they want. "VIRA, do have Dick and Sue invite in our other guests."

  The buzz of an electronic lock, and two guards brought in the bound and gagged Charlie and Heather. They also had manacles on their feet. Nice touch. McThing did the twirly hand thing again. He had long, thin fingers. Must have his mother's hands. He ought to give them back. The guards removed the gags. Surprisingly, neither one felt the need to indulge in useless demands that we be released. Instead they gave their guards dirty looks. The guards merely shrugged and took places flanking them. Sue was short and chubby over her muscles. Dick was tall with a well-styled beard he kept reaching up to stroke.

  McThing took the opportunity to indulge in his own Park Avenue brand of maniacal laughter. "The daring rescue gone wrong. Did you really think we wouldn't expect this?"

  "I can count at least five of your henchmen who didn't," I replied. "Maybe you'd better work on your training program."

  Once again, the pointy finger in my direction. "You're so right, you know. But of course, part of this whole exercise was to let my employees learn, through natural consequences, the impact of letting one's vigilance slip. And of course, it gave us a chance to try out our automated systems. VIRA did an excellent job of subduing you, didn’t she?"

  "Thank you, Mr. McThing." If a computer could sound smug, VIRA could see its pretentiousness and raise it a "teacher's pet" attitude.

  While McThing waxed poetic about the automated security system, his one hand making little waves and McTwirls to emphasize certain points, I muttered to Joe, "I think he likes her more than you. How's it feel to be one-upped by machinery?"

  "Shut up, dragon, or I'll tighten that muzzle." He growled back.

  "Go for it, Starman." Joe didn't exactly flush, but I could feel his body heat rise and saw a slight increase in his breathing and the tension around his eyes.

  McThing kept talking, unaware of our dialog. "...Once this is done, we'll all touch base with an on-hands meeting to synergize our internal efficiency quotients with base-level methodologies to creatively reconcile our scalable goals with our core competency values."

  "Bingo!" I said.

  He just pointed that finger at me. I was getting very annoyed at that finger. But the other hand kept drawing my eye. What was he hiding? I wanted that other hand, and I didn't know why.

  I was getting dizzy. Where were those Feds?

  He continued, "Then we'll watch the video of you imitating pieces in the Munchy, Munchy Mole Game (Trademarked!) and have a good laugh. But I must say, Vern, I'm so disappointed you didn’t bring your partner."

  "Not her kind of party."

  "No, I suppose not, being a nun and all. So you brought an operative of BILE instead."

  "What?" We all three spoke at once.

  Fortunately for us, McThing didn't think about that coincidence. He laughed. "How droll.

  Please do not insult my intelligence. The black uniform. The Kevlar cap. The knowledge of computers. Even the infrared-to-UV protection eyewear. She had BILE all over her."

  "No, that was your henchmen. Oh, look here's one now!" Ralph, in a clean uniform and wet hair, had entered through the door to my left. "Charlie, Heather, meet Ralphed."

  They gave me quizzical looks, but that was okay. Ralph turned a nice shade of red.

  "Want your belt back? Come get it." I curled my lips to display my teeth. I puffed my cheeks out like I might ralph on Ralph.

  He started toward me, but Joe blocked his path with an arm. In the brief distraction, I managed to unlock the manacle on my front right ankle.

  McThing said, "Ralph, temper! Count to ten and try again. Here, come sit at the table.

  Matt? Why don't you go find out what's taking Clay so long."

  With a shrug, Matt vacated his seat and left. Ralph slid into place, mollified, but nonetheless hanging onto his gun with special attention. I saw Joe look from Ralph to McThing with a starry-eyed gaze that bordered on simpering. I could almost hear him sighing in his mind,

  "What a nice guy." I thought my stomach might heave again.

  "Where were we? Ah, yes, your BILE agent, Ms....?"

  "McGillicutty."

  "All right, then. Ms. McGillicutty has thus far eluded our security, but she has not, as they say with Elvis, left the building. We will find her. And of course we know about BILE. We are, after all, a significant organization within the Villains for Interdimensional Lawlessness Enhancement!" I saw the henchmen puff up with each word.

  "Oh! That's—" I started then let my voice trail off. Wait for it...

  McThing gave a modest shrug. "Say it."

  I turned to sneer at Joe. "Lame." I gave the last of my turned lip to Ralph, who sat forward. Still, both apparently took "Count to ten and try again" to heart. McThing shook his head, his lips pressed hard against his knuckle, elbow still resting on his other hand.

  Something kept drawing my attention to that hand. I was starting to feel a kind of tingly lightheadedness. I was going to have to act soon, or I'd have to take my turn as damsel in distress. "So, what's VILE—other than your stupid acronym? Come up with that in committee, or just use a suggestion box?"

  Oh, that struck a nerve. I got minion reaction all around. Charlie noticed, too, and I knew he would take advantage of any opening he could, but he was also going to be distracted by Heather. He shuffled a little closer to her. She stretched, pushing her cuffed hands from her like in some bondage yoga video. Charlie did a couple of shoulder circles.

  Hoped they knew what they were doing, because I didn't have a clue.

  Joe raised his gun toward me. Please. Try it. Make my day. I had the picks already inserted into the lock of the manacle on my back leg. Two free; two to go. Come on, yell.

  Posture. Give me a distraction....

  McThing intervened like a nursery school teacher on Prozac. "Joe! Manners! What I have always said about such childish mockery?"

  Joe lowered his gun again and recited, like a schoolchild, "Mockery is just a defense of the ignorant who don't understand the genius of our great plan."

  "So you've been laughed at before?" I batted my eyes at Ralph. He started to stand.

  "Tough guy want a piece of me?" I jeered.

  Three loud bursts from his gun, and I felt three hot coals impact my hide.

  That was a little more distraction than I'd intended. I folded.

  "Vern!" Heather screamed. She tried to run toward me, but Sue yanked her back by the hair. Charlie turned toward his guard, but Dick punched him in the jaw.

  One bullet struck a scale and shattered it. The second pierced another and scraped my skin beneath. The third sunk into the muscle of my wing. It burned with an intensity I hadn't felt since the Branding Irons of Asmodeus.

  McThing lost his McCool and shouted, "Enough! Ralph, you are excused! Dan, take him to the reeducation center. And, VIRA? Remove a star."

  "No," Ralph screamed and fell to his knees, pleading. Dan pulled him away.

  Snickers the Guard left my side and took Ralph's place by the table.

  "There's initiative," I muttered to Joe. "Bet he gets a star for that."

  Joe glowered while Snickers preened at him.

  McThing glared at the empty door a moment longer; then he took a cleansing breath, and calmed. I grit my teeth in pain and frustration. I'd never seen such quiet, controlled bad guys.

  "I do apologize. Our core value is to impart real artistry and finesse to our operations. We really value subtlety—"

  "Subtlety?" I shrieked despite myself. My entire wing was on fire. Two sharp points of pain in my shoulder and chest made it hard to breathe.

  "Well, yes. Perhaps you can appreciate the—heehee— irony of what I tell you next. The bullets that hit you? They are of a special anti-Magical design. They dissolve upon penetrating the skin, carrying their iron content into your bloodstream. I do hope you can remain conscious long enough for me to explain exactly what it is y
ou're dying for. We so value informed customers and the educational process. But let's all take a calming breath, shall we? Inhale..."

  My wing had started to go numb. My jaw was sore from talking with the stupid belt holding it mostly shut, and the rest of my joints ached from the iron in my blood. The blind spot in front of my eyes had expanded to a column. My tail felt heavy and clumsy as it handled the lockpick. I had to force myself to focus on McThing's voice, yet Heather's whimpers seemed unnaturally loud. The room was starting to feel too cold. The back of my mind was starting to whisper unwelcome questions. What if my immortality was tied to magic? What if it was possible for me to get so far from the Gap that I didn't get severely inconvenienced; I got permanently dead? If that were true, what would happen if they caught Grace?

  There's a difference between letting your enemy think you're weak and helpless and actually being so. Picking these guys off one by one, or driving them to distraction until Charlie and Heather could run for it, wasn't going to work. Four down from nine were good odds, if Grace and not Heather were standing beside Charlie. Showing spunk against mechanical monsters and going against human villains are very different things.

  Plan. I needed a new plan. I couldn't think; couldn't focus. Stupid henchmen with their stupid stars and stupid beards and stupid iron bullets...

  McThing finished his McBreathing. "Why don't we start again? I think we're losing our focus." He spread his hands placatingly.

  I saw it. On his pinkie.

  "That's an interesting ring." My voice was hoarse. I swallowed hard.

  "Do you like it? A present from the VILE CEO, reward for being such a valuable part of her organization. With this, we will power our plans and rule both worlds."

  "Some present. It's hardly a pebble. Any idea how big the ones in my treasure pile back home are?" I forced myself to sound disdainful. I tried not to follow his hand with my eyes, or one eye, rather; I had to twist my head to keep McThing in my sight.

  Heather's ring, but more importantly, a dragon stone. The most treasured gemstone in my universe. Forged from the beginning of time, so beautiful, bearing the kiss of magic.

  Didn't matter how small it was. I wanted that kiss like I'd never wanted anything in my life. I shivered with need.

  McThing chuckled but held the ring up, admiring it like he'd gotten engaged or something. It caught the light, refracting it in ways no human could see well enough to appreciate. I tore my eyes away from it. "Pebble. A useless trinket." I snorted.

  A sip of water to a being dying of thirst.

  He turned a delighted smile to me. "But you see? That's exactly what you Faerie would think. So simple-minded. Yet, when my scientists are done studying it, I will be able to artificially create perfect dragon stones, suitable for focusing the energies we need!"

  Energy. I needed energy. I needed that stone. Needed to get stoned. Hahaha. I blinked slowly, pulled in a deep breath.

  "Of course, I could have used the information Charlie had so deceivingly promised me.

  Nevertheless, I'm sure if we really drill down on this, we can discover alternate stratagems. Are you all right? Perhaps, while you still can, you'd like to make a suggestion?"

  "Bet you want to know gate mechanics. I'm a dragon. Wisdom of the Ages? Why don’t you just let the happy couple go, and I'll tell you what you want to know. Then you kill me and be done with it."

  "Oh, I'm afraid that's not possible. You see, I do intend to kill you…and the brave Herald."

  "No," Heather shrieked. She tried to lunge toward him, but her legs caused her to shuffle.

  Nonetheless, McThing snapped his fingers and pointed, and Bearded Boy and Squat Sue pulled up two suede ottomans and forced the couple to sit down on them.

  "Miss Dakota—may I call you Rhoda? I am a truly great fan. And...since your boyfriend was not able to give me—give us—the satisfaction we desired, you'll have to do that for us in other ways. Autographs, certainly, followed by a concert, then an after-show party. Of course, I won't attend that; I'd hate for my men to feel inhibited."

  Charlie lurched from his seat only to be pushed back down.

  "Oh, don’t worry. We'll find somewhere you can watch. And we'll have pictures afterward, of course. Then, we'll be sure to send a copy to her parents and your Duke with our renewed demands."

  I snorted. "That's your alternate plan? Let your guards get out of control—and take incriminating photos? I got a reporter you should meet."

  McThing indulged in his Evil Fortune 505 laugh. "My dear Mr. Vern. I don't think you truly appreciate my genius. My trusted staff—the very men and women you have been mocking—are the gemstone of my master plan. VIRA?"

  The landscape scenes disappeared, replaced by an infomercial, or recruiting video, or something. The McMinions—some of the same ones pointing grim expressions and loaded weapons our way—were on the screen directing families and helping the wheelchair-bound up ramps; Dick giving an encouraging smile and a friendly wave to a child peeking from behind her mother's pant legs. Meanwhile, McThing narrated.

  "Behind the smiling, friendly exterior of each security guard at McThing lie the heart, mind, and soul of a hardened criminal; their lives in our society destined for persecution. But I saved them! I brought them to me, gave them purpose, taught them to value themselves, to embrace that side which society has condemned—"

  I rolled my eyes and opened my mouth in a yawn, being none too quiet about it. I felt the leather of the belt stretch. Cheap stuff. Good. Even better was how Snickers kept stealing nervous glances toward the door. He'd begun to notice that no one had returned. He gave an uncertain look at his employer, saw him caught up in the glory of his own brilliance, and decided to be proactive. He snuck out to do some investigating.

  Now there were three.

  Oblivious, McThing continued. "So, applying the most modern methods of self-esteem enhancement and quality management, I have gained their trust, given them purpose, but even more: I've taught them the value of a controlled evil. At times, they indulge their...appetites, as you will regrettably find out, Miss Dakota; yet to the world, they present the face you can trust."

  The video ended with the little girl at last approaching Officer Dick. He knelt down and caressed her hair just as it faded to the caption, "Try McT-A today, okay?"

  "Eww," Heather shrieked, but her frightened eyes belied her tart attitude. Dick leaned toward her, and I saw Charlie tense up. Wrong move, too soon. I pulled on my last reserves.

  McThing continued as if he hadn't heard her, spreading his arms wide and shouting,

  "Soon, I shall apply my methods to the undesirables of both worlds and create an army of disciplined, self-actualized Villains for Interdimensional Lawlessness Enhancement!"

  I laughed as loud as I could, bringing attention back to me while covering the sound of the last lock snapping. "Are you sure you don’t want to be called Losers And Maniacs Entitled?

  Purpose? Only the most limited of humans could find purpose in gathering star stickers." I sneered at Joe, then turned to Sue. "Or rewarding your half hour on the treadmill with a slice of cheesecake." She flushed and clenched her fists. "And you!" I spat disdainful laughter at Bearded Boy. He pulled his hand back from Heather as I'd hoped. "How stupid can you be, having a name like Dick and growing a Van Dyke beard? Or did you really think that was clever? Losers And Maniacs Entitled. L-A-M-E! You're all LAME." I laughed.

  Sue and Dick started for me, ready to pummel me for my insolence. Proactive Joe swung at me with his rifle. I ducked and slammed my head into his midriff, flinging him against the wall. Not hard enough, though; he shook his head once and pointed his rifle at me. With my tail, I threw my locksmith tool; it embedded itself in his cheek. He dropped the gun and fell screaming. I forced my mouth open wide, snapping the belt, and roared.

  Heather and Charlie tumbled backwards off their ottomans. When they popped back up, their handcuffed hands were in front of them instead of behind. They pushed their ottomans toward their
guards. Heather's struck Sue in the back of the legs. Dick van Dyke tripped over Charlie's. VIRA sounded the alarm. The wailing echoed in my head, disorienting me. Joe was recovering and reaching for his gun. Henchmen alerted by VIRA's alarms came crashing through the door. I didn't bother with them; I leapt for the one McThing I wanted.

  My mouth closed on the evil overlord's hand. I felt the ring warming my mouth. I drooled and despite myself snickered. I was on the raw edge of my physical limits, and instincts were taking over rational thought. I had my prize.

  I heard the ratcheting of machine guns; I couldn't count how many in my current state.

  Didn't matter. I closed my teeth slightly on McThing's McHand.

  "No!" McThing held up his other hand toward his men. "Vern, let me go."

  I didn't answer; I growled. I let my tongue caress his finger, the stone. My growl became a purr. Mine. The warmth spreading through my mouth made an interesting contrast to the cool numbness seeping through my body. I concentrated on the warmth, the smoothness of the stone.

  "This is...unexpected. Perhaps you should consider—ow!"

  I nipped his wrist, tasted his blood, heavy and thick with adrenalin. Sweet, too—bet he had donuts at some meeting today. How long had it been since I'd eaten? Too long; too long. I closed my eyes, scraped the skin, tasted.

  Behind me, weapons were raised. I found it hard to care. I had what I wanted.

  "You can't kill me, mortal." Even with my mouth full of his hand, McThing understood me. Why not? I was a dragon; his survival depended on it.

  "What about your friends?"

  A virgin squeaked, "Vern?"

  I turned my head without releasing my prey's hand, so that he flinched, and the other humans around me jerked their weapons but didn't fire. A maiden and her knight stood in bonds with guns pointed at their heads.

  Heather, something whispered at me. Heather and Charlie.

  My stomach growled. I glanced from them to my prey and back. This should concern me, I knew, but I couldn't quite figure out why.