Manic Monday: (Dane Monday 1)

by Dennis Liggio

  Voss and the remaining guard exchanged a few shots, but they both realized it was a stalemate unless one left their cover. Both waited for something to change. They realized that the result of Kripp and Jameson's fist fight would determine their next action.

  Though they had ducked for cover, some of the more dedicated workers had only done this under their desks. In this tense detente, the workers raised their heads enough to check their consoles.

  "We're suffering a massive drop in power!" said one worker.

  Outside, the demon's arms had slowly lost all strength, all tenseness fleeing. The Omega-6 had taken this opportunity to push the Terminus's arms back. The robot's grip was even stronger now.

  "Report!" called Gustav. "What's happening? Why are systems failing?"

  "You should check on your boss," said Dane softly, a frown on his face.

  At first, Gustav didn't understand what Dane meant. But when he turned to look at Carmichael, he understood. One of Will Voss's shots had gone wild and missed the man he shot at, but the bullet had still found a target. The bullet had passed through the back of the throne and through Carmichael. The front of Carmichael's shirt was stained crimson. A drop of blood trickled out of the old man's trembling mouth.

  "I... have been... shot..." whispered Carmichael.

  Dane had taken this opportunity to slowly inch over to the snow globe on the desk. But seeing her leader in this state, Colette ran right in front of Dane, pushing him aside and blocking the globe. She crouched in front of Carmichael, pulling a handkerchief from her purse and pressing it to the wound on the old man's chest. Dane sighed at being thwarted from grabbing the globe. The room trembled and they all struggled to maintain their footing as the Omega pushed the demon backward against a building.

  Honnenheim had no idea why his foe had suddenly given up the attack. He mused that it was some sort of internal equipment malfunction. Normally, he'd be respectful of such familiar disruptions and grant his opponent a grace period, but he had tired of the battle. It had gone on too long and he had already provided his enemy with ample opportunities to recover without the professor taking advantage. This was one malfunction too far. Now it was time to end the fight. The Omega-6 began punching the incapacitated demon. The Omega's forearms had been built for punching. The gyroscopic waist of the robot was designed to put maximum impact into the punch. Without the death ray and the not-yet-ready rocket punch, these blows were the most damaging part of the Omega's arsenal.

  Inside the Terminus control room, systems were failing. Carmichael was integral to its function. The old man was the one who controlled the building's shape. He was the one who contained the demonic spirit. He was the one to channel the power. These all were maintained through his will. He was still conscious, so the building was mostly maintaining its shape, but he had little will for anything else as his breath turned to soft, wheezing gasps. The systems were flatlining.

  Every time one of the Omega's fists hit the Terminus, the control room shuddered. Anyone standing found themselves stumbling at the impact, so bracing themselves on the furniture was the only thing they could. Somehow the brutal fist fight between Kripp and Jameson continued on even in these circumstances. If it were not for a particularly hard punch from the Omega, maybe the fight would never have ended. But that hit ended it. The punch caused even Kripp to stumble as he tried to keep his balance. Jameson was close to a desk and anchored himself for a moment. Then he reached out and grabbed Kripp. Already trying to find his balance, Kripp couldn't resist Jameson. The federal agent slammed Kripp face first into a desk. This was the final straw in this knock down drag out fight. Kripp slid to the floor, his body limp and unconscious.

  Jameson, bruised, gasping, and bleeding from his lip, looked around for a threat. He leaned down and grabbed Kripp's gun. His next step was clear - there were only two armed men left, Voss and the remaining guard in cover. As Jameson raised the pistol, the final guard stood up. He was no idiot. He was outnumbered, outflanked, and his boss had just been beaten into unconsciousness. The guard tossed his pistol down and raised his hands. Voss kicked away the gun and then searched the guard before accepting his surrender.

  "We've beaten them," said Jameson to Dane. The federal agent sadly stared at the bleeding man. Colette still crouched in front of Carmichael, trying to stop the bleeding.

  Another robot punch shook the room.

  "Yes, but now Honnenheim is beating us!" said Dane. "We've stopped Carmichael, but we still have another dangerous megalomaniac with a fifty story robot! We're finished with this monster, but we're not done by a long shot! I just hope breaking this stalemate didn't just cause us to lose the city!"

  "How would you have handled this threat?" said Jameson.

  The Omega-6's fist slammed into the Terminus again, this time crushing the head of the demon. The previous punches had only bluntly impacted the demon, as some magic was still keeping the gigantic robot fist from breaking through the wood and Brass of the creature's form. But Carmichael's will was fading, even with the old man stubbornly holding on. This punch broke through the magical barrier around the Terminus. The fist crunched through the demon's face and on into the control room.

  Glass and wood exploded in the control room. Before anyone knew what was happening, the massive fist had dug itself twenty feet into the room. Many screamed and were superficially cut by glass, but in the end, there were no casualties. The fist had only pierced through the sloped front of the room so it did not touch anyone. Almost everyone had already been taking cover, so most of the glass only destroyed displays and consoles. That did not mean there wasn't complete and utter shock. In the attack's aftermath, there was no sound but the whipping of the wind through the destroyed windows.

  "Is... is that a fist?" said Abby.

  The robot's fist did not move. The fist was a massive piece of riveted steel with fully articulated joints on five fingers. She expected it to have been pulled back for another punch, but it was strangely immobile. Using her camera, she got a good shot of the fist and the arm that lead back into the robot. As she filmed, the fist jerked back half a foot, causing her to jump backward, but a moment later the tension left the fist and it sank back to its previous position.

  In the cockpit of the Omega, Honnenheim had tried to pull back the fist for a final attack, a perfect coup de grace that would solidify the professor's superiority and victory. To his dismay, he discovered that the robot fist was stuck. He routed more power into the retraction of the arm, but the greater movement did nothing to dislodge the robotic digits. And as he tried harder, he discovered that the servo motors were now locking up, overtorqued and unable to move. He grumpily frowned as he clicked through his schematics and tried to figure out a way to reroute function. He was not entirely surprised by this turn of events. Every Avalon Brass invention had the capacity to malfunction at the worst possible time. He knew that well from experience. He knew he was actually lucky that nothing had simply exploded.

  Inside the control room, Dane was figuring out his options. He found himself draw to the window. The robot arm created a long silvery path from the fist to the robot's shoulder. It almost glittered in the setting sunlight. He knew that he needed to stop Honnenheim, but how does one stop a massive walking robot? It would be hard to get inside the robot. But then he saw that arm suspended in the sky. He realized as dangerous as it was, this was his chance. This frozen and unmoving arm was a bridge. It was the most direct and ridiculously dangerous way to get to the professor. He knew he couldn't pass this chance up.

  "Abby, I need you and Jameson to get everyone out of here!" said Dane. "Get them out of the hotel and to safety!"

  "Where are you going?" said Abby in confusion.

  Dane had already stepped onto the robot fist. He realized that the fist could start moving at any time. He hoped whatever technical difficulty the professor had would continue. He turned back to Abby. "I need to stop Honnenheim and end this all!"

  "You're going to run across that?
" said Abby.

  "It's my best chance!" said Dane.

  "You're crazy!" said Jameson.

  "That's all part of the job," said Dane. Taking a moment to confirm his balance, he took off in a jog across the arm.

  Jameson watched Dane run off on the robot arm. He knew that Dane was clearly crazy. If this wasn't a sign of it, much of the man's earlier behavior was a giveaway of his fractured mental state. And yet... Jameson had to admit that the robot needed to be stopped. He knew that none of their ground forces were equipped to deal with it. They might not even be able to get into it. If those tanks ever showed up, would they even be able to fight it? Dane had at least found a way into the robot.

  It was pure madness, but... Why was he even considering it? He sighed and put the gun in his shoulder holster.

  "Voss," said Jameson. "Help her! Get these people evacuated!"

  "Where are you going?" asked Will.

  "To follow a madman and do something I hope I won't forget!" said Jameson. Then he climbed onto the robot fist and ran out the broken window after Dane.

  The Silver Path

  The wind whipped across the long robot arm. Jameson began to regret his decision halfway across as he had to crouch down against a strong gust of wind. Nearly fifty stories up and on a precarious robot arm, Jameson felt vulnerable and exposed. He realized, as Dane had, that if the professor took this moment to pull the arm back, he'd fall to his death. He wondered why Honnenheim hadn't done this. Then Jameson shook his head. He decided his mind was better spent focusing on getting across the arm as quickly as possible instead of wondering how much time he had left.

  Despite his moment of doubt, Jameson arrived on the Omega-6's shoulder just moments after Dane.

  "It's beautiful, isn't it?" said Dane.

  Jameson looked around. The sky was indeed beautiful, a sea of reds and oranges as the sun set. What wasn't beautiful were the destroyed Avalon buildings around them. Few were completely knocked down, but there was significant collateral damage. He also looked back and for the first time saw the demon as it was, not framed by television cameras. He couldn't believe it was real and he couldn't believe he had been inside that. Then he looked at the gigantic robot he now stood upon and realized that if this wasn't a dream then there had been many things today to change his view of the world.

  "So we're looking for an access hatch or something?" said Jameson.

  "No, unfortunately," said Dane. "Honnenheim wouldn't build an access hatch."

  "Why not? Surely his maintenance workers need a way in."

  "Honnenheim doesn't use maintenance workers," said Dane. "At this point, his entire workforce is robotic. Whatever maintenance is needed is done by robots, often ones who never leave the robot at all. They're like little robotic red blood cells or something." He paused. "Maybe that's not the best metaphor."

  "So how are we getting in?" said Jameson.

  Dane looked down at the huge gouges along the metal of the Omega made by the demon's claws. One of those gouges went up as far as the robot's neck.

  "We're going in through those tears," said Dane, pointing at the gouge.

  "That's -" began Jameson.

  "- Crazy?" said Dane with a smile. "Look where we are. You and I are the Mayors of Crazytown right now. We might as well use our full powers of craziness to get things done. Besides, it's exciting! Isn't this exciting?"

  Back in the control room, nearly everyone had been evacuated. The workers had gone willingly, having realized this sinking ship was far underwater. Colette and Gustav were also quite eager to leave the demon, knowing that it was the best way to save their skins and hopefully escape law enforcement in the chaos. It was the guards who were more of a problem, and Agent Will Voss was needed to get them out of the control room. The guard who surrendered went willingly. The wounded and formerly unconscious guards were reluctant, but a shake of Voss's pistol herded them into the stairwells.

  His final prisoner was just waking up when Voss returned to the control room. Kripp let out a groan, groggily looking around.

  "What happened?" Kripp said vaguely. Then he looked at the destroyed windows and the gigantic fist. "What happened?" he repeated in an awestruck surprise.

  "You lost," said Voss, rattling the pistol in front of Kripp. Will kept a good distance, knowing Kripp was the most dangerous. Jameson had taken him in a fist fight, but Will didn't think he had the experience nor tenacity to repeat Jameson's brutal performance.

  Reluctantly, Kripp stood up.

  "Hands behind your head," said Voss. "Good, now go stand at the door."

  As Kripp walked off, his shoulders drooping in defeat, Will returned to Abby. They had coordinated the evacuation together, but had barely spoken otherwise. He wondered why she had returned to the control room.

  "You should leave too," Will said.

  Abby turned to look at him and smiled, her camera held in her arms. "Thanks for your help."

  "And you probably should not be filming this," Will said. He knew at this point there was little the government could do to lock down this story, but he felt he should at least mention policy.

  "I'll be along soon," she said. Then her lips tightened. "There's still something that needs to be done. There's one last person to escort."

  Will followed her gaze to the throne, where Carmichael was sprawled, the mask still on his head, blood heavily staining his shirt. Colette had been at first reluctant to leave him, but after a hushed conversation with Gustav, she became eager to leave.

  "Even him?" said Will. "I'm all in favor of justice, but nobody would even blink if he died in all this. I don't want you to risk your life getting him out of here when he's half dead anyway."

  "Everybody should get a chance to live," she said. "Even him."

  "Do what you have to do," Will said. "But get back safe, okay?" There was something in his smile that seemed to indicate an interest in her welfare beyond just civic duty.

  Abby smiled bashfully. "I'll be fine. Just get everyone else to safety. I'll see you outside."

  Will nodded and then escorted Kripp out the door.

  Abby approached the throne with slow footsteps. Even though the old man was now wounded, she was still nervous about talking to him. This was still the man who designed a chunk of the city, vowed to destroy it, had personally ordered her death, and had the willpower to shape and power a demonic building. Who knew if he had any final tricks up his sleeve?

  This was one decision where Old Abby and New Abby were in a strange agreement. Old Abby was terrified of doing this, but felt it was the right thing to do. New Abby felt morally that the old man's death wouldn't be an issue, but that it was pretty damn ballsy to try and help, so she was on board. Abby took a deep breath.

  "Mr. Carmichael?" she said.

  The old man moved the mask up on his face, enough so that he could look at her with his own eyes. "Miss... Connors was it?"

  "Yes," she said. "It's time to go. We're evacuating."

  "I've lost and... it's time to leave with my tail... between my legs, you mean?" His voice was weak and halting.

  "I didn't mean -"

  "Oh, I know you didn't... mean it," he said, "but that's what... it still says to me. I've failed. Even if... you don't say it... I still know it."

  "Come on, we need to get out of here," she said. "I know you're wounded, I'll help you out. We'll get you to a paramedic."

  Carmichael shook his head faintly. "As soon as I disengage... from this link or... lose my concentration, it will all... revert. This will... become a building again. It will... fall."

  "Why are you even holding it together then?" said Abby. "Don't you hate us all?"

  Carmichael smiled faintly. "It was never about hate. It was about... making this city... and its people... better. It was about... going far enough... for greatness."

  "It was too far," she said.

  Carmichael smiled again. His weak hands went to the side table and grabbed the snow globe. He feebly shook it then stared into
it. The skyline of Old Avalon was as beautiful as ever. "For my city... for Mother Avalon... no measure would be... too far..."

  The old man gasped and his hand with the globe shook. His other hand grasped frantically at his chest. The snow globe tumbled to the floor. It struck the floor with its base at first, then bounced and landed on the glass. The globe broke. The liquid in the snow globe fizzled for a moment as it reacted to the open air. Then the broken globe suddenly began erupting a thick blue-gray smoke.

  Abby knew the danger as soon as she heard the fizzle. She turned away and took a deep breath. As the smoke surrounded her, she reached into Dane's satchel. Her hand triumphantly closing on it, she pulled the gas mask from the bag. She had a moment of trouble with the strap, but she finally had it on her head. Breathing again, she gasped as her lungs pulled at the carbon filtered air.

  The room began to tremble as the entire demonic form began to shudder. It had been Carmichael's will which held its shape. Now as Carmichael slipped into unconsciousness, never to awake again, all of the demon's substance was reverting back to its original form as simple building materials. Magic, will, and an actual demon had animated it into a walking, moving building, but without those it was merely a building that had been shaped into humanoid form. That human-like form was a structurally poor form for a building, so now it was threatening to all come down.

  Abby ran for the stairs. Once in the stairwell, she began descending the stairs in record time. But she was still forty stories up, and running down would take longer with the building coming apart. She stumbled as the tremors increased. Would she make it in time?