This is a work of fiction that I am in no way making any money off of.
It is not intended to infringe on anyone else's copyright. It is however
something that I wrote and I would ask that you please ask me first before
using the reality or original characters I've created. Music lyrics used
from Elecric Head pt.2 (The Ecstasy) and More Human Than Human. © White
Zombie Astro-creep: 2000, Greffen Records 1995.
Kaals held on for dear life as Lucifer sped through one alleyway into another.
In a very technical way she was in control. She had control over Charlene
and Charlene controlled Lucifer, but dangling from the side of nearly homicidal
motorcycle with your only lifeline being the arm of a human that at the
moment was unconscious and being remotely driven was not her idea of true
control. Kaals quickly entered the location she wished to go to into her
pad. It was an old warehouse at the end of town they had recently bought.
Kaals gritted her flat, herbivore teeth when Charlene's central processor
sent the command to Lucifer and the bike veered sharply to the right.
Just when Kaals thought she couldn't take any more bumps, jars and jerks,
they arrived at their destination. Lucifer came to a sliding halt out side
the front door and Charlene put out her foot out to prop them up. Kaals
had to type in a command for Charlene to let her go and the Human unceremoniously
dropped Kaals on her side. The Tulsan had no curse words in their language
so Kaals had to resort to a few of Charlene's favorites as she picked herself
off the ground.
Kaals angrily punched in her next command and followed Charlene as she walked
Lucifer into the warehouse. Charlene proceeded to the back of the empty
room where their sleeping quarters were located while Kaals stopped to pick
up the supplies she would need to patch the human up. Kaals glanced down
at her pad that listed Miss Davidson's injuries in order of severity. She
looked into the bag of medical supplies from one of the packed crates they
came to Mars with. Inside she found several rolls of tape, a verity of pain
killers and antiseptics, a box of square gauze for the minor scrapes and
a suture kit for the deep cut that was bleeding freely in Charlene's leg.
Realizing that every thing that she needed was everything that they had,
Kaals zipped up the bag and hauled the whole thing to the back.
Kaals entered the back and found Charlene in the room's only chair. In the
far corner Lucifer sat deceptively quite, but Kaals knew that he was watching
and recording. Long ago, when Charlene had first put Lucifer together from
an old FLSTS Heritage Springer chassis and a forgotten Martian AI they found
in one of the many Plutarkian dumps they had scavenged, Charlene had programmed
the bike to record everything that happened while she was unconscious. It
was the only way Charlene would sleep peacfully.
Kaals dumped the bag at her charge's feet. Automatically Charlene's self-preservation
sub routine took over and the human began to bandage herself up. Charlene
took off her soiled and ruined racing suit and revealed the black shorts
and tank top underneath. Kaals sat back and watched. She had written the
sub-routine that Charlene was using from medical journals, but she had never
done any emergency first aid herself.
As Charlene worker her movements became jerky and hesitant, a sure sign
that she was regaining consciousness and trying to override the computer
controls. Kaals waited until the last suture was in place and the sight
covered with a bandage before remotely turning off the control sequence
she had activated out on the racetrack. Charlene went limp in the chair
and Kaals berated herself for not having her human charge lay down on one
of the room's two cots.
"What happened?!" Charlene demanded. "Where are my glasses?!"
Kaals sighed and quickly produced the mentioned spectacles and handed them
to her. Charlene glared at the Tulsan with her mechanical eyes and Kaals
felt a shiver creep up her back. She had known Charlene for almost five
years. In fact she had been the one to design Charlene's new eyes, but the
solid orbs of metal were still unnerving to her. While in the hands of the
Plutarkians, Charlene had lost her original eyes due to the lack of care
they had given her. Charlene had gone sightless for over a year before she
had learned to use the security cameras at the Plutarkian prison to `see'.
When Charlene had become her `project' Kaals had made the eyes for the human
from designs she had made years ago. At the time they had only meant to
be functional, not ascetically pleasing. And functional they were. Charlene's
eyes had full frontal range, 500x zoom, UV/VIS (the entire spectrum), and
thermal sensors. They were constructed from a Plutarkian glass steel/Martian
Flex-Plate Shielding alloy that Kaals discovered, all her internal wiring
was of the same alloy, which made them strong, durable and flexible. At
first glance, Charlene's eyes appeared to be solid silver orbs with no iris
or pupil, but if you looked closely you could see the fine mesh of sensor
relays.
Charlene shoved the sunglasses on her face. It was her way of hiding her
eyes. They had discussed replacing her eyes with something more realistic
looking, but Charlene refused. Her distrust of anyone manipulating her body
was strong and Kaals couldn't blame her. Between the Plutarkians and the
XenoX Charlene had been well used.
"Well, are ya gonna tell me what happened or I'm I gonna have ta shake
it out of you?" Charlene threatened, flexing her gloved hands.
Kaals stood her ground and refused to show the human that she was intimated.
She knew Charlene could kill her with little effort. She had seen her kill
ruthlessly and without reservation, but to show Charlene that she was scared
of her only made it harder for the Tulsan to help her.
"I am your Keeper Charlene, not your secretary. Ask your guard dog,"
Kaals said, indicating Lucifer in the corner.
Charlene turned her back on Kaals and went to her bike. The female Tulsan
gave a silent sigh of relief. Charlene had quite an attitude most of the
time and it was going to get her a death sentence if she didn't straighten
up. Kaals knew that she was taking a big chance by bringing Charlene here,
but it was her last alternative. Mind probes, data searches, hypnosis, and
even regression therapy had all failed. If Kaals couldn't prove that Charlene
wasn't the homicidal killer her people believed she was there would be nothing
to stop them from executing the human.
While Charlene was occupied with Lucifer, Kaals went over her plan. Once
Charlene was in her sleeping cycle, she was going to approach the Martian
Freedom Fighters for help. Kaals knew that Charlene had connections to them
in her past, but how was unclear. According to the Plutarkian records they
were able to secure from the XenoX after the Slaughter of Sellous Prime
they were able to ascertain that Charlene knew three Freedom Fighters; Modo,
Vinnie and Throttle.
Kaals had been very careful in planing her seating arrangements during the
race. She needed to see these three `Biker Mice' to know if they were going
to be any help at all. She had been almost convinced that it would be a
waste of time and an unnecessary emotional strain to Charlene until she
had seen the way they had reacted to seeing the human.
Kaals people were never very emotional, preferring logic and a calm focused
center, but she knew the look of hope and love when she saw it. Now if only
Charlene would react the same in kind. It was a risky bet, hoping that those
three Martian Mice could retrieve the memories that Charlene had so carefully
eradicated from her mind. There was no telling how Charlene would react
once she saw them. That was why Kaals had run. She couldn't risk Charlene
going into a defensive posture against them. It would most assuredly seal
her fate. Kaals heard a match light and knew that Charlene was watching
her.
Sure enough, when Kaals turned she found Charlene leaning back against Lucifer
drawing on one of her smoking sticks called Tags. Charlene had picked up
the habit on Vult from the cybernetics expert Kaals had been consulting
about her human charge's memory block. Fortunately the sticks were not carcinogenic
like there Earthly counterparts, but they still smoked up the air. Charlene
claimed they calmed her and they did have a slightly tranquilizing effect,
but mostly the human smoked them because she knew Kaals did not approve.
"So whatcha up to Blue?" Charlene asked, the Tag hanging from
the corner of her mouth.
"It is not your place to question me Charlene."
Charlene yanked the Tag from her mouth and glared at Kaals over her glasses.
If the snarl on her lips didn't tell Kaals that the human was angry the
way she was rolling the Tag between her thumb and middle finger did.
"Listen here short stuff. You drag me here to this dirt ball, force
me to live in this empty hovel for a week and then have the nerve to tell
me that it's not my PLACE!"
Charlene was becoming highly agitated. She put the Tag back in her mouth
and made three rapid drags off the stick. Greenish gray ashes fell to the
floor from the end as she smoked and the tip glowed with a bright green
light. Charlene stomped her way over to the Tulsan and dropped the Tag at
her feet. She ground it out with the heel of her hobnailed boot and bent
over to blow smoke into the Tulsans' face.
Kaals struggled not to cough. The gray smoke was very irritating to the
sensitive sinuses in her flat nose, but to let Charlene know that she was
making her angry would be counter productive.
"If you are quite finished acting the child, I believe Lucifer needs
attention. I believe he damaged his front relay in the crash," Kaals
informed the aggravated human to distract her.
With a curse Charlene turned and attended to her bike. Kaals inwardly pitied
the human. Charlene had never asked for any of this to happen. Somewhere
inside the confusion of Charlene's soul was a loving person otherwise no
one would have escaped the Slaughter of Sellous Prime. Besides Kaals was
partially responsible for Charlene's condition. The XenoX had made her body
into a killing machine but it was Kaals that had given her the will to kill.
The hours of the day passed slowly. Charlene on a good day wasn't much company
and today she was impossible. She refused her system checks and ranted and
raged through her daily memory back up. For almost five years Kaals and
Charlene had been inseparable, not because they wished it but because it
was mandated by the jury that had tried them. Kaals had one Tals cycle to
prove that Charlene was a victim and she was running out of time. Soon night
was falling and Charlene slept with her dark angel, Lucifer, watching over
her.
Kaals left with no worries that Charlene would follow. Once the human slept
it was for seven hours exactly, no more no less. Kaals walked through the
Martian streets and ignored the stares she got. Once or twice she had to
consult the map in her ever-present computer pad, but she found the Freedom
Fighter's headquarters with no problem. She entered the unadorned building
and walked straight to the main office, however she found it empty.
"Can I help you with something?" a young tan-ish gold, pregnant,
female Martian asked her.
"Yes, I am looking for the Martian known as Stoker. Would you be privy
to his whereabouts?"
The mouse seemed reluctant to answer, but eventually she gave Stoker's location.
Kaals punched up her map of the city and plotted a route to the spaceport.
The area was alive with activity, even more so than a normal space port.
Kaals dismissed this and weaved her way through the crowd of bodies. Kaals
very quickly became lost. Being as short as she was compared to the Martian
population it was impossible for her to see anything to direct her movements.
Kaals was becoming frustrated when she saw the mouse she was looking for
by the boarding gate. He was unmistakable with his bionic tail. Squaring
her shoulders she marched herself over.
"Throttle, we have searched every transport, every cargo ship and private
vessel in the entire port. There just isn't a sign of this Tulsan and the
woman you think is Charlie."
"Stoker I know it was her. Ask Vinnie or Modo they'll tell you the
same."
Kaals hadn't noticed the other mice until she come closer. She had been
too intent on her objective of finding Stoker. Now that she saw them standing
there she felt hesitant, but she needed to right the wrong she had done
and set right all the suffering.
"Throttle, I'm sorry there just isn't any sign of them. Maybe we can
look at the docking logs. Maybe we can find a clue to where they are at."
"That will be unnecessary. I am perfectly willing to give you our current
location."
The reaction Kaals got was not what she had expected. She had anticipated
shock, surprise and even anger, but not a homicidal rage.
"What have you done with Charlie!" the white mouse roared, grabbing
Kaals by the front of her one-piece robe and hauling her off her feet while
twisting the material painfully around her neck.
Kaals would have answered if she had of been able to breathe, but the choke
hold Vinnie had on her made that impossible. Instead of struggling Kaals
waited. She was quite use to having threats made against her life from Charlene.
All she had to do was wait out the storm. Unfortunately, this particular
individual was far more motivated in completing his task than Charlene ever
was. Kaals could feel her blood congealing in her brain the longer it stayed
stagnate. She was in no danger of suffocating, she could hold her breath
for a very long time, but if her blood was not continuously circulated it
would thicken to a gel and kill her.
"Vinnie! Drop her! She can't tell us anything if she's dead!"
Modo yelled, pulling on his friend's shoulder.
Vinnie reluctantly complied and set Kaals back on her feet, but refused
to let go completely. "Where is Charlie?!" he demanded again.
"Could we adjourn to another location? We are attracting quite an audience."
The four mice looked around them and realized that Kaals was right. Stoker
barked a command and a few of the onlookers left, but many of them were
free citizens and visitors and they continued to watch unabated.
"Come on. We can go to the Control Room. I'm sure we can find a place
to talk there," Stoker said, motioning him to follow him.
They walked in silence and Kaals was feeling a little like a criminal. Throttle
and Stoker were walking in front of her and Vinnie and Modo followed close
behind her. The pace they set was tough for her to keep up with and more
than once Kaals felt a push from behind, but dared not voice a complaint.
They entered the Control Room and were directed to a back room where Kaals
met another hostile Martian.
"Is this the Tulsan?" a gray furred, black haired female asked.
"Yeah, that's her Carbine. She turned herself in," Throttle answered
for the group.
"I did not `turn myself in'. I came to consult you on our mutual acquaintance."
"Mutual acquaintance my" Vinnie started in anger.
"Vinnie! That's enough!" Stoker hissed, wishing that the white
mouse would stay quiet long enough for them to figure out what was going
on.
"Thank you Stoker. I had hoped to talk to you alone, but" Kaals
looked around at the angry, waiting faces and decided to let that thought
drop. Kaals cleared her throat and took a deep breath.
"As you well know I have in my acquaintance the human you knew as Charlene
Davidson."
"Hold it right there," Carbine said holding up her hand to stall
the Tulsan. "'Knew' pasted tense?"
"Yes It has become a question with my government if she is still Charlene
Davidson or an Artificial Intelligence program."
"Artificial Intelligence? Like our bikes?" Modo asked, clearly
more confused than he was earlier.
"Similar to your bikes, but far more advanced." Kaals saw the
blank and unbelieving faces staring back at her and pointed to the computer
terminal in the room with a view screen. "May I? It will be easier
to explain with my data tracks."
Stoker and Carbine gave their permission at the same time and Kaals linked
her personal computer up.
"Over five years ago the body of Charlene Davidson came into the possession
of the XenoX. According to records left by a small contract group on Sellous
Prime, the XenoX purchased Charlene's body from a processing clerk on the
Plutarkian prison moon Torren when her funding was terminated."
"The XenoX?" Throttle whispered.
Kaals looked at the tan mouse and was shock to see that he looked almost
ill. Throttle leaned against the wall and put his face into his hands and
swallowed several times.
"What is it Throttle?" Carbine asked.
"There was a XenoX ship there the day we went to Torren. They loaded
a crate a human sized crate, on to their ship before they left. All I could
think about was how relieved I was that they were gone."
"Throttle, don't beat yourself up about this son. There was no way
you could have known," Stoker said, trying to comfort the distraught
mouse.
"She was right there less than 20 meters from me and I didn't even
know it," he whispered.
"I saw them too, bro. We all did. We didn't know," Modo said,
trying to comfort his friend.
The room sat silent for a few moments. Throttle, Modo and Vinnie looking
lost, sick and remorseful. Carbine and Stoker kept their thoughts to themselves,
but it was Carbine's meaningful look that made Kaals continue.
"After the XenoX acquired Miss Davidson they began to make improvements
on the work the Plutarkians had started." Kaals punched up some footage
taken in the days that Charlene was being worked on.
On the display was something that one might expect to find on a medical
tape. It showed the many different surgeries that the XenoX performed on
Charlene. They implanted her eyes, and laid the fine webbing of sensor nets
that covered her most sensitive areas, including her lips and fingertips.
They replaced her knee, hip, elbow and shoulder joints. They even reinforced
her rib cage with the same glass steel/flex shielding alloy.
"They made improvements on her sensor nets. Extending the neural relays
to all of her nerves, completely replacing her spinal column and major neural
pathways so that the central processor the Plutarkians implanted into Charlene's
brain could control them. After that was completed they started testing
her."
The images on the screen changed. Now a picture of Charlene in a stark white
room appeared. There was murmur of disbelief in the room. Kaals wasn't sure
how Charlene had looked before, but she was positive that she looked nothing
like this. Her hair had been shorn close to her scalp and only a short reddish
brown fuzz was visible. It did little to hide the many scares and metal
veins there. She wore a simple sleeveless, all over body suit in gray that
hugged all of her curves. Not that there were many curves to see. The Plutarkians
had nourished her minimally and the point of her joints and her ribs could
be clearly seen.
"Her eyes. What happened to her eyes?" Stoker asked, mesmerized
by what he saw on the screen.
"Humans do not have a reflex that closes their eyes when they are in
certain types of commas. Under normal circumstances the attending physician
will tape their eyes shut to prevent them from drying out. The Plutarkians
did not afford her that care. It was necessary for the XenoX to replace
them."
If it was possible for fur to turn green it was happening. Throttle tugged
on his own specs and shuttered. Vinnie cursed under his breath and ground
his teeth, making an almost intolerable grating noise. Modo fingered his
mechanical arm and Stokers tail was still for the first time all evening.
Carbine nodded her head indicating that Kaals should go on. The Tulsan wondered
if the female mouse realize that she was rubbing her old scar across her
face.
"Her reaction time is computer fast, but they found that they had to
slow it down to prevent her from dislocating her joints and pulling her
muscles, but when the situation calls for it Charlene can override that."
The Charlene on the screen performed many quick precise fighting moves that
resembled human Marital Arts moves. From the side a XenoX warrior attacked.
It was a tall burly looking beast, seven feet tall and covered in short
black quills similar to a humanoid hedgehog. Charlene easily dropped it
on its back and snapped its neck with a single move.
"They programmed her with killing techniques, but they discovered that
she could not expand beyond her original programming. She was little more
than an automated sparing partner. She had no originality or intuition."
Another XenoX attached using more evasive moves than the previous opponent.
Charlene could not compete. The XenoX faked a lunge, Charlene blocked and
the warrior swept her feet. Charlene laid almost passively while the XenoX
struck her face with the tip of his boot. Charlene tried to come to her
feet, but the XenoX struck her in the back of her head. The fight continued
well past the point a normal human would have fell unconscious.
"She would fight in the same organized, preprogrammed way until she
was dead with out changing. She could not adapt, so they decided to fit
her with an Artificial Intelligence unit. That is when I was brought in."
"You?!" everyone in the room demanded.
"Yes. I am an AI expert on my home world and I have extensive knowledge
of cybernetics. I was their most logical choice. They had already used my
neural webbing system for all of her `improvements'."
"So you helped them do this to Charlie?!" Vinnie almost yelled,
murder clearly in his pink eyes.
"It was not willingly I assure you. They sought me out knowing the
fields I study and `arranged' to have me delivered to them. At the time
I believed that Charlene was an animated body, but now I am curtain that
she IS a freethinking entity. This is footage taken on Sellous Prime, Charlene's
first outing with the AI board I implanted with learning algorithms."
They watched intently as the display showed the landscape of a planet they
had to assume was Sellous Prime. It was fairly normal stuff. Plants that
were green to blue-green in color and exposed soil that was a tanish-red.
In the foreground was Charlene. She stood stiff and straight like a department
store mannequin, then, suddenly she fell to the ground. She laid there for
a moment, then she curled up in to a ball, hugging her knees close to her
chest.
There was an explosion just beyond the hill where she laid. She looked up
and huddled close to the dirt, scared and alone. Several more blasts filled
the air with dirt and rocks and Charlene crawled her way to the edge of
the hill. The camera lens followed her and showed the scene she saw behind
the hill.
In the shallow valley a fight was raging. Three XenoX mercenaries were attacking
a group of Tulsans at what appeared to be a small archeological dig. The
XenoX fired lasers and lobbed grenades at the Tulsans that seemed to be
defending them selves with shovels and rock pulverizing tools. Charlene
watched the `battle' for several minutes, clutching her head in her hands
seemingly in pain. Suddenly a Tulsan appeared behind one of the XenoX that
was separated from the other two. The Tulsan was about to swing his shovel
at the mercenary when Charlene made her move.
"Look out!"
The room jumped with the shock of hearing Charlene's words. Kaals could
see that all of the mice were going to ask questions at once, but she shook
her head and pointed to the screen. There was much more they needed to see
and hear first.
Charlene launched herself at the startled Tulsan. She took the improvised
weapon from the blue skinned, purple eyed male and made a mighty body swing,
bringing the shovel completely around her body and impacted the metal end
of it with the Tulsan's head with expected results. His head caved easily
and he fell dead. Charlene then took the shovel and broke it over her knee.
She used the freshly made sharp wooden spear like a javelin and threw it
at a Tulsan that was approaching their position. It hit home, right in the
middle of the belly where the Tulsan's hearts were located. He fell without
a whimper.
"Come on, Big Guy," Charlene said as she hauled the confused XenoX
up. "Let's get with other macho metal heads before these stink fish
separate us."
The screen only showed a few more moments of the XenoX completely destroying
the Tulsans with Charlene's help before going blank. The room was silent,
as Kaals had expected it to be. Now was the moment of truth. Would they
help her or would they condemn Charlene with the evidence they had seen?
"How?" Carbine began then stopped. The carnage of the acts she
had just seen stealing her thoughts before they were ever formed.
When there seemed that there wasn't going to be an immediate response, Kaals
filled the silence.
"When I wrote Charlene's AI and leaning algorithms it was to observe
the XenoX fighting and learn from them, but when they were activated her
organic brain began to function again. Before this Charlene was brain dead
with no observable brain activity. I believe that somehow they stimulated
Charlene's own mind into functioning, but unfortunately her severely damaged
and altered mind misinterpreted her situation and made it into something
that was easier for her to deal with. This was the only evidence that I
had to keep my government from executing Charlene."
"What happened on Sellous Prime?" Stoker asked for the group.
Kaals sighed. "It is still unclear what exactly happened. From the
few survivors that lived through the massacre on Sellous Prime we were able
to piece together a scenario. The Gewla, a race of insect-like beings that
coveted Sellous Prime, hired the XenoX to exterminate my people from the
planet. At the time we had a colony of 10,000 there, only a hundred survived.
From all reports of the survivors, Charlene along with the three XenoX systematically
destroyed all of my people's strong holds over the span of three months
then suddenly all the attacks stopped. When the Tulsan military arrived
they searched the planet for Charlene and her accomplices. They found them
in a small base located in the mountains. The XenoX were dead and Charlene
was close to death from starvation. All of her systems had been internally
shut down and her data banks were beyond recovery. It was assumed that she
had malfunctioned and killed her companions. They were going to shut down
her central processor, the only thing keeping her alive, when I pleaded
for her life. Because I had a hand in creating her they allowed for the
possibility that Charlene was not in control of her actions and therefore
not responsible, but I had a Tals cycle, five years, to prove it, and my
time is almost up."
"What do you need us to do?" Throttle asked. The statement was
echoed by the others.
Kaals sighed with relief, they were willing to help. "I think that
if Charlene is confronted with figures from her past that it will stimulate
her memory."
"So let's go then," Vinnie said as he headed for the door.
"NO! Wait!" Kaals called after him, grabbing his tail to stop
him.
Vinnie gave a sharp yelp and glared over his shoulder at the Tulsan. Kaals
glared right back and pulled a second time on the mouse's fifth appendage
to make him turn around.
"You can not go charging in like a Taarn water beast in a Vulan glass
shop. Charlene Davidson is in a very fragile state of mind right now. You
push too hard too soon and she will break."
"So, what do you want us to do?" Modo asked.
"Start off gradually. I need someone that was from her past that she
knew as an acquaintance, but didn't know all that well."
"That would be me," Carbine said, stepping forward. "We knew
each other, but we were never that chummy. I think we only met two or three
times at most."
"Excellent!" Kaals exclaimed with more life that she had shown
all evening.
"What's going to be my excuse for seeing her? I mean wouldn't be kinda
odd for me to show up out of the desert and start talking to her."
"That has already been taken care of," Kaals rummaged through
her pockets and pulled out an official Martian document. "Just yesterday
we were approved to open a mechanic's shop in the old warehouse on the outskirts
of this city. This is also where we will be staying. You could come under
the guise of having your vehicle repaired."
"Better yet, give her the civilian mechanics contract for the Military/Freedom
Fighters off-duty vehicles. She's still a good mechanic, isn't she?"
Stoker asked.
"Her skill has become quite legendary in our travels. She is more than
capable of performing any job you wish."
"Good, then it's settled. I'll show up tomorrow and offer her the job."
"It will be best if I am not there. Charlene will ignore you completely
if I am around. I must warn you. Charlene is not the most agreeable of people.
I've seen Gruk slugs with more manners. Do not be surprised by her offensive
behavior."
"Charley? Offensive?" Modo asked.
"You must be talking about some other human mechanic. Charley-girl
is the most charming young lady I've met in a long time." Stoker said,
earning himself a glare from Vinnie.
"That is exactly my point," Kaals said, trying to impress upon
her coconspirators the gravity of the situation. "This Charlene Davidson's
life started the moment I reactivated her after Sellous Prime. She has no
past, no memories. She woke up with a head full of knowledge and an entire
planet thirsting for her death. All she has ever known is the destruction
she caused and the lives she has taken. As part of her punishment she was
made to memorize the names of all she killed and repeat that list every
night before she sleeps. As you may well imagine this has effected her psyche
immeasurably."
"Don't worry. I think I can handle it," Carbine said to the Tulsan.
How bad could it be anyway? She found out the next morning.
==
Carbine approached the warehouse and she could hear it long before it was
in her sights. To say that the music coming from the stone and brick building
was loud would have been the understatement of the century. The air fairly
throbbed with the heavy electricity of the sound. Strangely enough she instantly
recognized the song. Even though some might think it strange, Carbine was
a fan of heavy metal. The fast pace of it and the say-anything-do-anything
style that didn't apologize for being rude or offensive was attractive in
its own way. It was freeing on a basic primal level. Saying things you never
dared to say out loud. Most times music reflected the mood of the person
listening to it or playing it. And if the White Zombie Carbine heard coming
from the warehouse was any indication, Charlene was in a self-destructive
mood.
Carbine parked her bike outside and listened for a moment.
Breakneck speed get a violent spinal crack'n
Back down to the chrome and feel the death wish attack'n
Hubcaps on your eyes- Yeah
Cannot sympathize- Yeah
A fistful of hair and a splinter in the mind
Yeah I want it
Yeah I need it
Yeah I love it
Yeah Electric Head all in your head all in your head all in YOU!
Carbine just shook her head. It sure didn't give you that warm fuzzy feeling
of hope and prosperity. She took off her helmet and wince when she realized
how much louder the music was with out it. Good thing this place was on
the outskirts of town with nothing around but other abandoned buildings
or she'd probably would have been met here by the local civil law.
That song ended abruptly and the silence was even more profound than normal.
A few seconds later the music was back. Carbine almost felt herself blush
when she heard the new selection. The beginning of the song was hard not
to recognize. The panting ecstasy of the human female that opened the song
was a bit embarrassing at that volume. Carbine put her helmet on her bike,
centered her shoulders and walked into the warehouse.
The huge open room had little to offer. There were a series of metal crates
of various sizes scattered about the room, giving an almost maze like appearance.
On top of one of those crates was the sound system that was belting out
the tune that seemed a little too appropriate for the occasion. Carbine
saw Charlene immediately. She was working on what Carbine recognized as
an engine lift.
The human had her waist length hair in a simple braid with what appeared
to be electrical tape holding the end together. Charlene was barefoot and
clad in a pair of cut off jean shorts and a long sleeved flannel shirt that
was tied in a knot in the front. With those few inches of skin exposed between
the top of her shorts and the bottom of her shirt, Carbine could see the
metal of Charlene's spine reflecting in the dim light.
Carbine could see that Charlene was in the middle of installing the lift.
The heavy metal cables that would support the lift, trailed out across the
floor to a system of pulleys that eventually would make it easy to move
the lift with its heavy cargo from side to side. Carbine was going to ask
if Charlene needed any help and quickly found that she needed none. More
Human than Human, indeed.
Charlene attached a chain to the top of the lift and then put the other
end in her mouth holding it in her teeth. Above her was a rope that was
anchored to a crossbeam of the warehouse. The rope was slightly out of her
reach so she had to jump to reach it. Then, with seemingly little effort,
Charlene pulled herself up the rope, hand-over-hand, without using her legs
to stabilize her body. A maneuver that Carbine knew from experience was
difficult in itself, forget about dragging ten pounds of chain in your teeth
along with it. When she was half way up the lyrics of the song began.
Yeah
I am an astrocreep
A demolition style hell American's freak - yeah
I am the crawling dead
A phantom in a box, shadow in your head
Charlene reached the crossbeam and planted her feet wide apart. She began
to pull the lift up with the chain. The strain on her body was quite obvious,
but she kept pulling. Suddenly the chain slipped. White-hot sparks flew
from between her hands. The metal of the chain and the alloy on Charlene's
palms and fingertips grated against each other and Carbine wasn't sure if
the scream she heard was the sound of metal on metal or Charlene's cry of
pain. Carbine thought for sure the human would drop the lift, but if anything
it made her pull faster.
Scratch off the broken skin
Tear into my heart, make me do it again Yeah
More Human than Human More Human than Human More Human than Human More Human
than Human More Human than Human More Human than Human
Within seconds Charlene had the lift anchored on the beam, but instead of
using the rope to get down she took the scenic route. Like an insane diver,
Charlene flipped backward off the beam in the full tuck pike position. She
came un-curled at the last moment and landed on all fours, her chin missed
hitting the ground by millimeters. She rose from the ground slowly with
the grace of a cat and instead of returning to the lift and finishing her
work she fixed Carbine with her pupil-less eyes. The music instantly died.
"Enjoying the freak show?" she snarled.
A bit of red caught Carbine's attention. There was a series of stitches
on Charlene's right leg and the landing must have torn them because there
was a thin trail of blood running down her leg from them. Carbine didn't
let the mechanic's attitude get to her. "I would have knocked, but
the music was too loud."
"That was the point."
Charlene turned her back and went to the lift. "Is there something
you want, or are you into voyeurism?" That got the female mouse's tail
to twitch.
Kaals had warned her that she would be rude. Carbine decided to fight attitude
with more attitude. "I was told that there was a passable mechanic
here. Do you know where she is?"
That got Charlene's steam rolling. She turned back to face Carbine. "That's
me, sister. What of it?"
Carbine grated her teeth. "I have a job for you. It's long term, repairing
various civil equipment for the Military and the Freedom Fighters. You up
to it, or is climbing ropes and falling on your face the extent of your
abilities?"
Charlene grinned without humor. "Sister, I can fix anything this back-water
dirt ball has to offer."
"Good. You have the job under a trial basis. But let's get one thing
straight," Carbine approached the human and got within inches of her
face. "First and foremost, I am not nor will I ever be your `sister'.
I am your boss and you work for me. I tell you what to do and when to do
it. Is that understood?"
Carlene smacked her heels together and Carbine could hear the bones of her
ankles crack against each other. The human gave her a mocking salute. "Yes,
ma'am, General, ma'am. Anything you say, ma'am."
Carbine spun on her heel and stalked out of the warehouse before the urge
to punch the mechanic became too strong. No one had ever talk to her in
that manner since she had become a General. Carbine yanked her helmet off
her bike and was about to put it on when she heard the familiar sound of
three powerful engines. Throttle, Vinnie, Modo and Kaals (riding in front
of Modo) pulled up beside her.
"So, how did it go?" Vinnie asked hopefully.
"She is the rudest, most infuriating"
"Carbine, calm down," Throttle tried to soothe while unsuccessfully
trying to hide his grin.
"Do you know what she said to me?"
"Yes, she called you `General'," Kaals said as she slid off Modo's
bike, typing on her ever present computer pad. "Charlene does not know
who you are, but she knew you were a General without any badges or strips
to indicate you as such. I would say your meeting with her went exceptionally
well."
Carbine snorted, "If that was what you consider going well I'd hate
to see what would ha
ve happened if it had of gone bad."
With that Carbine pushed on her helmet and mounted her bike. The area was
split with rib thumping music that was instantly recognized by the mice
as the `General's Walk'. A bit of music that was played at official Military
functions that proceeded the Generals when they walked into the room. This
version, however, was not very respectful. The trumpet-like instruments
that made up the bulk of music had been replaced by what sounded suspiciously
like kazoos and the percussion had been substituted with whoopee cushions.
The three Freedom Fighters tried not to laugh, but the fact that Vinnie
was already on the ground holding his stomach and gasping for breath didn't
help. Carbine growled and hit her visor closed, gunned her engine and tore
off. The three remaining mice didn't try and hide their amusement anymore.
"Man, Charley got her good," Modo said between his deep chuckles.
"I would say that this proves that Charlene likes General Carbine,
other wise she would have just ignored her," Kaals said, sounding very
pleased with the situation.
"Well, I don't think Carbine thinks much of Charley-girl right now,"
Throttle laughed.
"Did you... did you see how pissed she was?" Vinnie said between
gasps. "I haven't seen Carbine that mad since since" He couldn't
finish his statement.
"Well, at any rate I think that this is a very good start. I'll be
contacting Stoker when I fell that time is right to introduce her to someone
else."
"When do we get a go of it?" Modo asked.
"Not until she is more comfortable with her surroundings. The last
time I pushed too hard she panicked and it knock my progress back months
and I do not have months left to work with."
The mice were once again reminded how critical this plan was and their jovial
mood was popped. If it didn't work Charlene was going to find herself in
front of the preverbal firing squad. The three of them rode off mindful
of Kaals warnings of keeping away and out of sight. They even had their
bikes programmed to tract Charley so that didn't accidentally run into her
when she was out and about fixing whatever Carbine and Stoker assigned her
to do. It was going to be a rough couple of days, but for Charley's sake
they were going to do what they were told. This time, anyway.
This is a work of fiction that I am in no way making
any money off of. It is not intended to infringe on anyone else's copyright.
It is however something that I wrote and I would ask that you please ask
me first before using the reality or original characters I've created. Charlene's
nickname for Lucifer is Luc. It is pronounced `loose'.
Charlene waited until Lucifer's scanner showed that the General was out
of hearing range before turning off the mock `General's Walk'. Lucifer tweaked
and beeped, communicating audibly the message that it was sending to Charlene
over their link.
"Yeah, she ain't coming back anytime soon," Charlene answered
the motorcycle as she went back to work on the engine lift.
She looked up at where the lift was anchored on the chain and was satisfied
with its location. She walked up to the right wall and began to lock off
the cables to the pulley system. When she bent down to put torque on the
cable a sharp pain raced up her thigh and for the first time she noticed
that her stitches had torn. She cursed and slapped at the offending pain
and realized that her arms and back hurt too.
It had been really stupid of her to pull the lift up herself. Lucifer could
have easily used its grappling hook to position it, but when Charlene had
realized that the Martian female had walked into the warehouse she got it
into her head to show the General that she was strong.
Strong and stupid, Charlene scolded herself. She rotated her shoulders and
the protest of her pulled muscles made her stop. Kaals was going to give
her ten shades of Hades for pulling that stunt, and she grinned. Getting
Kaals riled was all she had sometimes. Seeing that very proper, very logical,
very calm Tulsan loose her temper was the only amusement Charlene let herself
have. Of course, ruffing the General's fur the wrong way had been amusing
too. Again Charlene grinned, not realizing how that simple act softened
her face.
The female General had walked into her warehouse as confident as you pleased
and didn't bat an eye at Charlene's display. The human had liked her immediately
and that just couldn't be. Charlene had intentionally pissed the General
off to put distance between them. Getting close to anyone wasn't an option.
The only reason Kaals was still around was because she had this insane idea
that she could save her. No one could do that, she had been lost long ago.
Charlene sighed and felt the walls she had painstakingly constructed come
in again. It was better that way. Soon the Tals cycle would be over and
she wouldn't have to worry about keeping her distance. She wouldn't have
to worry about anything anymore.
Her only current concern was Lucifer. Once she was gone she would need someone
to look after the bike. Kaals certainly couldn't do it. Charlene was very
aware how Luc (pronounced `loose') had reacted when they came to Mars. The
motorcycle almost seemed happy. It was more lively and daring, and acted
almost like a child let loose in a candy store. Truly it was Lucifer that
had wanted to be in the race yesterday and Charlene had just let the bike
have its way.
Charlene thought about the mouse she had rescued during the race. The first
thing he had asked about after she had removed his helmet had been his bike
and it was just a common bike. He was young and maybe a little reckless,
but his heart was in the right place. The little gutter snipe had even pushed
her to finish the race. Maybe he would be suitable for Lucifer. Charlene
was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't see Kaals enter, but Luc did.
"Back already, Blue?" she asked, not bothering to turn around.
She couldn't see the Tulsan, but Lucifer could, and she used his `eyes'.
"I finished by business dealings with the Freedom Fighters and the
Military. Did General Carbine come by already?" Kaals asked.
"Yeah, she came by with her rank so heavy on her chest I'd almost thought
she'd fall over with the weight of it. She needs to get laid."
"Charlene!" Kaals gasped.
"You do too, if you even know how. For that matter so do I," Charlene
said and waited for the lecture as she stretched her sore muscles.
"Charlene, the act of procreation is not"
"to be taken lightly or in vain. It should be the act of two adults
with the express purpose of strengthening their bond and to produce offspring
as evidence of their bond. Yada, yada yada" Charlene finished for her
Keeper.
"So you do hear me," Kaals stated looking stoic and proper as
a nun at church.
"Yeah, I hear ya. I just choose to ignore you." Charlene said,
hoping to get a reaction. She was to be disappointed.
Kaals just looked at her, not even bothering to show her displeasure. But
Charlene knew it was there, just under the surface of the Tulsan's cool
blue skin. It was there, counting every flaw, cataloging every mistake,
memorizing every blemish. Charlene felt her anger rise. Why couldn't Kaals
see her for what she was? A killer of children, nothing more, nothing less.
Why couldn't she see that there was nothing inside beyond the cynic? Why
did she push all the time to see something that just wasn't there anymore?
Charlene was aware of the human she had been once, but that woman had died
long ago. There was nothing left her. So she liked bikes and working with
her hands as the original Charlene Davidson had. Big deal! That didn't mean
that Charlene `Charley' Davidson was somewhere inside trying to get out
as Kaals always said. That Charlene, that Charley, would probably faint
dead away at the things she had done and seen, what she had become. Kaals
had taken her to Earth to see the garage that Charley had once owned.
It was a memory Charlene wished she could forget, but her computer mind
wouldn't let her. It had been the single most ridiculous thing the Tulsan
had done to her. She had gone to that run down place and had felt nothing.
The cobwebbed walls had no secrets, no memories. There had been pictures
there of the Charlene that she used to be. Smiling, laughing, alive. It
was the first time that she had realized that her eyes used to be green,
but the realization had not changed her. She was still the Charlene that
had massacred nearly 10,000 Tulsans. There had been no miraculous transformation
or recognition. She had felt like the voyeur that she had accused the General
of being. Going through the dead woman's things had done nothing but sicken
her, because of what she had become.
Charlene had refused to talk to the Tulsan for nearly a month. She didn't
like being manipulated. She didn't like being used and she sure as hell
didn't like being expected to be something she wasn't. Charlene could feel
her blood begin to boil. She was mad now and it quickly chased away the
semi-lighthearted feeling she had after teasing the General.
"So what's my duties for the day, Keeper?" Charlene snarled, tugging
her gloves more firmly onto her hands to hide the scraped form the life
chain.
Kaals didn't even blink. "Finish the modification to the warehouse
to make it a proper vehicle repair complex"
"Garage" Charlene sighed.
"What?" Kaals asked.
"A garage. It's called a garage," Charlene said rolling her eyes.
"Yes well. Make it a proper `garage' and wait for work. General Carbine
assured me that there would be plenty of work, even for you."
When Kaals turned to enter the living quarters in the back of the warehouse
Charlene made a rude face and mocked the female Tulsan's walk and mannerisms.
Kaals turned quickly, but didn't catch the human in the act. Charlene was
just standing there with her arms crossed and her hips set. As soon as Kaals
closed the door and separated them Charlene made another rude gesture and
then returned to her work on the engine lift.
Charlene worked the morning away. She got the lift working with help from
Lucifer. She wasn't up to climbing that rope again. After that, she built
some workbenches and unpacked the crates. Everything they had, had been
bought with the prize money from the race. Charlene had no personal positions
save Lucifer. In all her travels over the past few years in the vain attempt
to `release the Charley within' she had acquired nothing that she had wished
to keep. There was no point in owning anything if you knew you were going
to die. She had just finished putting the last of her equipment away when
her first `assignment' came in.
An older looking male mouse came into the newly refurbished garage and walk
up to her. He was maybe seven feet tall and built like a tank. His civilian
work clothes were caked with red Martian soil and his white fur was dusted
orange. He took his protective goggles off and shook the dirt from his head.
Charlene grimaced and asked herself if all Martian males were born mess
makers. The mouse extended his hand in greeting and Charlene ignored it.
No since in making friends.
"I'm Lars. Stoker set me to get ya," he said nervously. The refusal
of a hand shake obviously unnerving him.
Charlene felt her heart leap when she heard the name `Stoker', but she couldn't
conceive why. She put that thought aside and addressed the mouse.
"So. What do you want?" she asked sharply.
"Uhmm One of our irrigation transports is busted out in the field Stoke
wants you to come out and look at it."
There it was again. That little jump.
"Do you have any idea what's wrong with it?" Charlene asked trying
to ignore the feeling.
"We're leakin' oil all over the place."
Charlene nodded to Lars and went to pack Lucifer with what she thought she
might need. After that was done she grabbed a pair of her riding jeans and
changed behind one of the unpacked creates. She had left her jacket and
boots next to Lucifer and put those on before she pushed her ride out of
the garage. Lars led the way through town and out to the fields.
The Martians didn't have much in the way of agriculture, but what they had
was well taken care of. It was quite a ride from town. The only suitable
land was right on the edge of the desert. Charlene spotted her patient right
away. It was a moderately sized irrigation transport, one of two they had
out there. There were a few mice around it, mostly just cleaning up the
mess it had made. Charlene pulled up a long side the transport and shooed
away the extra bodies. All but one left.
Charlene ignored the female mouse that had stayed behind and went right
to work assessing the damage. She slid underneath and started looking for
the problem. As she began to search, she noticed that the brown furred mouse
was following her as she scooted around. Charlene stalled for time under
the vehicle, hoping that the mouse would just go away, but she persisted.
Finally, having checked everything and not finding a problem she came out.
The female mouse was there to greet her.
"You're Charlene Davidson. The one they call Angel, aren't you?"
she asked almost in awe.
Charlene snorted, "I'm Charlene, but I ain't no angel, sister."
Charlene walked to the engine and lifted the cover, the mouse followed.
"No you're her. The one that rescued us from Torren. I've seen your
picture at the monument"
The human turned to look at the girl. She couldn't have been more than seventeen
years old and the adoration Charlene saw in her eyes was too much.
"Look, sister. I don't know who you think I am, but I ain't no savior.
Now if you don't mind I got work to do and you're in my way."
The girl looked confused and hurt. She kept staring at Charlene and the
human was starting to get agitated. She was about to tell the mouse were
to go when a cry rose up in the field.
"Sand Raiders!"
"Sand what?" Charlene asked, but the girl was already gone, running
after the call.
Charlene followed out of curiosity and saw what all the excitement was about.
On the other side of the small field was a subterranean borrowing machine
that was now unloading buggy upon buggy of ugly dog-like creatures. They
started firing on the dozen or so workers that were trying to defend themselves
with whatever equipment was around. For a moment time froze.
For the smallest fraction of a second Charlene no longer saw the cultivated
field or the barren desert beyond. Instead she saw a lush valley and a group
of workers digging in the ground. One of them started to come at her. In
a flash it was gone, but Charlene looked down and to her horror she held
a shovel in her hands. She dropped it as if it was on fire and started to
tremble.
All around her laser fire lit up the ground. Blowing up huge clumps of dirt
and plant life. One of the buggies was coming towards her, the passenger
was leveling his laser rifle at her. It only took seconds for her to react.
She sent a signal to Lucifer and instantly the buggy and its two occupants
were bathed in burning gel. They screamed in pain and rolled out of the
vehicle on to the ground trying to smother the flames. Knowing that they
were out numbered and out gunned, Charlene chose to stay separate from Lucifer,
hoping to divide their attention and buy them some time.
She sent her bike around to take out as many Sand Raiders as it could while
she improvised. She took some of the bottles of oil that were lying around
from the clean up and tore a piece of her shirt off. After stuffing the
homemade wick in the end she lit it with her ever-present lighter and tossed
it. It wasn't much of an explosion but it was enough to get their attention.
A Sand Raider buggy zeroed in on her. She dodged the laser fire and felt
her leg give way. She cursed her stupidity that morning for showing off
and took off her jacket.
As the Sand Raiders tried to run her over she rolled herself between the
wheels and stuffed her jacket around the drive shaft. The vehicle went a
few more meters and then stopped. She hobbled her way over to the disabled
buggy while they were still confused about the loss of their ride and climbed
aboard. Charlene's computer mind quickly raced through her database of fighting
moves and as always the most lethal moves came up first. She ignored that
one and used a blow to the side of driver and passenger's necks to knock
them out.
Now she had firepower. She took their rifles and got behind the out of commission
Sand Raider buggy. She took pot shots now and then, trying to give Lucifer
as much cover as possible. It seemed like forever before some reinforcements
came. In the distance the sound of several powerful engines could be heard.
She never thought that the sound of Martian cycles would sound so good.
She chanced a look over the hood of her shelter and saw four motorcycles
coming in her direction.
The red, racer style bike took the led and blasted through the back line
of the Sand Raider's assault. With more bravo than brains, the rider put
him and his bike between the Raiders and Charlene. This made it impossible
for Charlene to give any cover fire. She signaled for Lucifer to pick her
up. This jackass was going to get them both killed.
When her bike got there she quickly assessed the situation. The standard
Freedom Fighter bike and rider took a position in front of the civilian
workers and laid on the cover fire for the other two bikers. Those two started
corralling the Raiders between them and were taking them out one by one.
They seemed to have a plan, but the crazy metal head in front of her was
fighting on pure adrenaline. Charlene wasn't willing to trust her life to
some manic with a death wish. She turned Lucifer toward the white Martian
male and hit the gas. She used the loon as a distraction and jumped over
him and fired at the Raiders below as she passed overhead. By the time she
landed all of their assailants had been taken out.
Charlene turned Lucifer toward where the civilian workers were congratulating
their rescuers and her temper blew hot. She skidded to a stop in front of
them sending soil and burned crops all over them. Her anger was running
so high that she didn't even notice that none of the other bikers had removed
their helmets. Charlene leapt off of Lucifer and stomped her way over to
them.
"Where the hell were you?!" she demanded out of them. "You
knew that there were Sand Raiders out there. What were you idiots doing?
Playing Tiddlely Winks or something?"
The biker straddling the Freedom Fighter cycle ripped his helmet off and
glared at her. "Now wait a god dang minute"
"Wait?!" Charlene blasted. "If I had have waited for you
lugheads we all would have been scattered from here to Mt. Olympus. What
kind of lack wit outfit are you running Stoker?"
For a moment all four bikers froze, but that didn't slow Charlene any.
"And you" she accused, turning to the white mouse that had just
dismounted from his bike. "What the hell was that? Were you trying
to get yourself killed?"
The Martian Biker held up his hands in defense, but Charlene didn't let
up.
"Do you realize how badly we were out numbered?" she asked poking
him in the stomach with her finger.
"Do you have anything between those big ears besides pudding?"
she asked as she pushed him with both hands.
"You could have been killed doing something as stupid as"
Suddenly Charlene noticed that her hands, that had been covered with oil
from her impromptu bomb earlier, now left green-brown handprints on the
mouse's stomach. The dripping greenish color was a stark contrast to the
pure white. All of a sudden it didn't look like oil anymore, but thick Martian
blood and lots of it. She looked up in shock, but instead of seeing her
face in the visor of the mouse's helmet she could see her tear streaked
face in the refection of a silver facemask.
Charlene turned around and threw up in the charred ground at her feet until
her belly was empty. She felt had hand at her shoulder and smacked it away
without looking. In an instant it was back again and she turned to glare
at the owner.
"Are you all right Beautiful?"
Charlene backed away from the mouse she knew was Stoker and didn't know
why. "Stay away from me." She warned.
"Were just trying to help you Charley," he said.
"What did you call me?" she demanded, feeling her heart beat so
painfully she thought she might pass out.
Stoker tried to put his arms around her and she sucker punched him. The
three other bikers caught him as he fell back and Charlene got onto Lucifer
and tore out of there. She could barely see the road in front of her, but
Lucifer kept her steady. She rode straight into garage and hopped off of
Lucifer before it stopped. She stormed into the back room and found Kaals
instantly. She grabbed the startled Tulsan and shook her.
"What the hell have you done?!" she yelled at her before she threw
her to the cot in the room.
Charlene raced around the room. Collecting some clothes to replace her ruined
ones. She had no spare jacket so she went without. Kaals scrambled off the
cot and collected her hand computer, but before she could do anything with
it Charlene smacked it out of her hands.
"Leave me ALONE!" she screamed, trying to focus and keep herself
sane.
"Charlene, let me help you. You are obviously distraught"
"Distraught? Hell I'm pissed out of my mind. What were you trying to
do me, sending them after me? Don't you know how dangerous they are?!"
Charlene didn't even know what she was talking about, it was like someone
else was talking but that didn't matter. She had to get away and fast. She
scooped up Kaals computer and jacked into it. She quickly typed in a command
and she grimaced in pain when the tracking devise in her circuits fried.
She yanked the connection out and went to Lucifer to remove his. It was
a simple matter to pull the chip out. She threw it to the ground and smashed
it to dust under her boot heel. She grabbed some extra clothes and went
back into the other room.
Before she could take two steps someone grabbed her arms pinning them to
her sides and lifted her off the ground. She tried desperately to establish
a link with Lucifer, but only found static. She looked up into the gray
furred mouse's charred face and panicked. Cheap shots always worked best.
She brought her knee up between his legs and to his credit he only fell
to his knees and didn't let go. Charlene brought her arms up between his
and knocked them away. She put both her fists together and hit him upside
his head that was now level with her shoulders. Already stunned from the
first blow he went down. Charlene tried to run then but when she looked
up the other two mice were there.
"Stay away!" she warned.
"We're only trying to help Charley-girl," the tan mouse said,
his arms open wide to show he wasn't holding a weapon. His head was turned
at an impossible angle.
"Don't call me that! She's dead."
"What happened?" Kaals asked when she came into the room.
"Sand Raider attacked the field were she was at. We had to come. We
were the only ones around," the tan mouse said.
Charlene kept her eyes on the two upright mice in front of her and inched
her way over to Lucifer. She couldn't hear what they were saying, there
were too many voices in her head. She climbed on to her bike and started
it up. The white mouse tried to get in her way. He was saying something
but she couldn't understand him. She couldn't see him past the blood she
saw covering his stomach. She pushed her way forward and he had to jump
out of her way or get run over. She was almost to the door when a cream
colored female and a silvery gray young mouse came through the door. Charlene
hit the breaks and slid to a stop in front of them.
"Mama," the boy said, it was the only thing she heard.
Charlene looked to the female mouse and saw the recognition in her eyes.
For a moment Charlene saw her in grainy black and white in a cell cradling
a newborn. `Take care of him for me,' she heard her own voice say.
"Who are you?" she asked the boy.
"Don't you know me Mama? Don't you know who you are?" he asked.
Charlene couldn't answer. The boy took a locket from around his neck and
handed it to her. She read the back without understanding. She opened it
up and looked at the pictures, but there was nothing. She didn't recognize
them. The dead woman was looking back at her. Laughing at her, mocking her.
She had been Charley once, but no more. She didn't know who or what she
was but that woman was dead.
"Sorry kid. Your mother's dead. She died a long time ago," she
tossed the locket back. "Just get over it."
Charlene rode out the door not knowing were she was going or caring.
==
A figure stumble into the street. Another followed, but when it tried to
put its arm around the first it was knocked to the ground with a strong
backhanded blow.
"Buzz kill," Charlene Davidson said as she weaved her way back
to her bike.
She was veering dangerously off coarse, but Lucifer compensated for it's
master's inebriation and intercepted her. Charlene laid herself across the
seat and clumsily groped for the bottle she knew was hiding in Lucifer's
side bags. She took another long drink and wiped her mouth with her shirt
sleeve. The bottle was thrown to the ground for daring to be empty.
"You do realize Luc that you're the only one for me?" she asked
the bike and got a beep in response.
"No, I mean it. You're the only one I trust. Come on let's fine someplace
to go."
Charlene got on and tried to steer, but after riding up on the curb and
knocking three rubbish cans to the ground Lucifer took over. Charlene was
content to let the bike take her were it willed. It didn't matter to her
where they went as long as they kept moving. They rode for several minutes
before a sign caught her eye. In Martian it read, `This way to the Angel
of Torren Memorial'. Charlene yanked on the handlebars and turned Lucifer
in that direction.
It was only a few minutes more to the memorial. Charlene was surprised to
see that in actuality it was a Plutarkian prison transport ship. She parked
Lucifer outside and told it to say put. She leaned over the bike's seat
and reached into the opposite saddle bag and retrieved a clear unmarked
bottle, half full of liquid. Charlene stumbled her way to the plaque were
a life sized picture of Charley Daivdson was placed.
"This is in memory of Charlene `Charley' Davidson who lost her life
saving so many," she read out loud. "What a freakin saint you
were Miss Charley Davidson," Charlene slurred as she saluted the picture
with her liquor bottle.
Charlene looked around where she stood and found a chunk of red Martian
rock. She nearly fell over when she tried to pick it up. On the third try
she scooped it up and lurched herself over to the picture. With the aid
of the rock, Charlene began to alter the photo. She extended the length
of Charley's hair to her waist. She banged with the rock until she had knocked
out the picture's eyes and then proceeded to draw a set of horns, mustache,
goatee and devil's tail.
"There," she said satisfied. "You should always have a current
photo."
Charlene glared at her own bad joke and stumbled to the entrance of the
monument. The door sensor activated when Charlene came near and began it's
programmed spiel.
"The monument is now close to visitors. Please return during normal
hours 7am to 8pm weekdays," the professional sounding female voice
instructed.
"Sorry sister. I'm not a visitor. I'm the deceased."
Charlene looked at the door lock key pad, while her eyesight was computer
perfect her aim was a little off. She had to grab both sides of it to keep
it from moving. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. Charlene ran
her thumbs over the surface of each of the keys and with the enhanced touch
of her sensor webbing was able to tell which keys were smoother than the
others because of constant use. Four keys stood out and it was a simple
matter of trying all of the different combinations until the lock clicked
open.
"Open sesame," she mumbled as she pushed her way inside.
Once inside the same automated voice that had greeted her at the door started
to give a long, unending monologue of the life and times of Charlene `Charley'
Davidson. Charlene grimaced and glared at the unseen speakers. The room
she was in was the main control room of the Plutarkian transport ship. Along
one wall was the view screen and control panels and covering the other were
hundreds of picture from the day the transport had arrived with its cargo
of rescued Martians.
Charlene was becoming increasingly annoyed at the voice that just kept going
on and on and on. She went over to the first set of controls that were dormant
and started pushing buttons and flipping switches. Lights came on, then
off, things buzzed then turned on. Doors opened and closed and even once
the engines came on for a moment, but the voice never stopped.
"Would you just SHUT UP!" Charlene screamed at the voice and magically
it stopped.
The room went silent and an uneasy feeling creep up Charlene's spine. She
turned around swiftly, but saw no one. She rubbed her arms trying to get
the feeling that she was being watched out of her. She looked around at
the pictures on the wall for a moment. The faces blurred together, she didn't
recognize any of them. She kept looking hoping and fearing that she would
see something she'd remember. Then at the end of the row was a photo that
did spark something.
Five figures stood in front of the transport, red dirt blew around them
as they stood there. The picture was obviously unplanned. The tan and white
mouse that had confronted her at the garage were turned away from the camera
talking to each other. The tall gray mouse was facing forward, but he was
more interested in the small light gray mouse he held and the dirty ivory
colored female that was standing next to him. The female mouse seemed to
be offering to take the child, but he seemed reluctant to let go. The little
boy was looking around him in wonder.
`Take him home. Let him grow up free'. She heard somewhere in her
mind.
Charlene reached out to touch the picture, but jerked back as if burned.
She continued to stare at the photo unable to look away. She looked at the
gray mouse's mechanical arm and a thought struck her. So strong, but always
so gentle. She shifted her eyes over to the pair that were talking. The
tan mouse looked to be comforting his companion. Always the leader, never
thinking of himself. The white mouse seemed close to tears, but fighting
it with everything that he had. So unlike him, to be so emotional, but so
like him to be fighting it.
Charlene turned away from the picture and tried to find where these thoughts
came from. She searched her data banks but could find no reference for the
things she had thought so unconsciously. Her hands trembled so bad that
the liquor in the bottle looked as if it was boiling. Charlene tried to
find the systems malfunction, but there wasn't one. She looked back at the
photo and gasped.
Her mind had changed the scene before her. The gray mouse leered at her
with malicious glee. His metal arm was charred and blackened, his antenna
were burnt and twisted. The tan one's head was bent at an impossible angle,
he was grinning at her knowingly. But the most disturbing one was the white
mouse. His belly was covered in his own blood that flowed from the fist-sized
hole there. His arms were held out to her as if to invite her in.
"No I had to" she whispered, backing herself into the corner of
the room.
"What did you have to do, Charlene?" a familiar voice asked.
"I don't know," she answered.
"What frightens you so badly? What did they do?" the voice asked
again.
"I don't know!" Charlene yelled back, turning towards the voice.
To her shocked horror, Charlene found herself looking in to the computer
image of Charlene `Charley' Davidson. She looked the same as she had before
the Plutarkians had taken her. Her hair was short, coming to rest on her
shoulders. She was wearing a blue mechanic's uniform with long sleeves rolled
up to past her elbows.
"Who are you?" Charlene asked, fearing the answer.
"You know who I am. I am what you made me," came the simple answer.
"No you're dead. You died on Torren."
"That isn't entirely true. The Plutarkians did succeed in copying your
mind, but that is all that I am, a copy. You sent me to make sure that Chance
and all of the prisoners made it home safely. All that I am is inside you"
"That can't be true. I don't remember you. I don't remember anything.
Why can't I remember? I had friends, a son. Why can't I remember my own
son?!" Charlene demanded.
"I don't know."
"Then what good are you!" Charlene yelled as she hurled the bottle
in her hand at the screen.
It hit with a shattering of glass, and when the broken electronics sparked,
the alcohol in the bottle ignited into a fireball. Liquid fire rained down
on the control panels catching a few on fire. Charlene turned away to face
the corner. The fire had sparked an elemental fear in her, and she didn't
know why.
"I can help," Charley's voice said from the many speakers in the
room.
"How can you help me if you don't know what happened to me?"
"I know where all of your demons live. I know where the nightmares
hide."
Charlene felt an intruding signal resonate with the processors in her head.
It spread out to all of systems and beyond. Long dormant synaptic functions
flared to life. Parts of her organic mind awakened and she was powerless
to stop them. The first thing she saw was fire.
"Daddy!" she heard a child scream knowing it was herself.
"Daddy!" she cried again. Fear burned her as she saw herself crouching
in the corner of her room.
The flames were coming toward her. They were between her and the door. There
was no way out, but there was one person that could save her.
"Daddy!"
"Here Charley. I'm here."
Suddenly her father was beside her, wrapping her in a wet blanket. His dark
brown hair was singed and his face was streaked with soot. He picked her
up and jumped back through the flames, holding her face against his chest.
They made it down the stairs and at the bottom was her mother. Just before
they reached her the ceiling above collapsed. Charley went flying as her
father threw her from him. Her mother picked her up and ran from the room.
Over her mother's shoulder Charley could see her father trapped under the
burning timbers. It was the last time she ever saw him.
The scene shifted. Now she was at a race track. Jimmy, her current boyfriend,
gave her a kiss and then put on his helmet. She could feel the dread well
up in her heart. Jimmy was racing his brother's red racer for the first
time. Charley had begged him to let her give the bike a once over. It had
been sitting idle for months, but Jimmy had just laughed her off saying
that a girl should be doing such things.
The racers went to the line. Jimmy gave her a wave and leaned onto his bike.
The race started and before he even got a hundred feet the bike came out
from underneath him. He went down hard, but didn't stop where he fell. The
bike dragged him for what seemed like an eternity, but finally he stopped.
Charley was already running, but before she could reach him someone stopped
her. She fought with them but they wouldn't let her go. She saw the ambulance
pulled up beside him and several people jump out with a stretcher. They
went to his side, flinging open boxes, but as soon as they removed his helmet
they stopped. They carefully lifted him onto the stretcher and then pulled
the blanket at the foot all the way over him, over his head. All Charley
could hear was her own screams.
Her screams were replaced with the cries of others. It took her a moment
to realize that she was now on Sellous Prime. Dozens of Plutarkians were
running around the burning complex. But something was wrong. They were too
small to be Plutarkians, it didn't make sense.
"Blow up the damn building, Charlene." Throttle said beside her.
In her hand was the detonator to the explosives that she had planted earlier.
The tan mouse became impatient and ripped it from her hand. He pushed the
button. The center building went up in a fire column. The two mice to her
left cheered and Charley watched as they took aim on the Plutarkians that
had not made it to the building, thinking falsely that it was a safe haven.
"Come on. We need to reload," Modo said as he checked the blaster
he was using.
Something was wrong. Modo didn't need a blaster.
"Let's go before they get too far," Vinnie said as he got into
the all-terrain vehicle that was their transportation.
It was wrong. Where were the bikes?
"Come on," Throttle said as he dragged her by the arm to the vehicle.
It was a short ride to their hide out. The guys quickly went around reloading
their blasters and picking up other heavier weapons.
"Are you coming, Charlene?" Vinnie asked her. He never called
her Charlene.
"No I" she couldn't think of an excuse.
"Let her stay. She isn't working right," Throttle said as he led
them out of the room.
Charlene looked around the room when they left. Everything seemed so wrong.
Stock piles of deadly weapons everywhere. In the corners, under the table
and the three bunks, but not a single Martian weapon. Charley sat down on
the floor and tried to get her spinning head to stop hurting. She tried
to keep telling herself that she was imagining things. The Plutarkians had
done a lot of stuff to her head. That had to be it. But her mind kept returning
to one fact. They were too small to be Plutarkians.
Maybe they were children. The thought chilled her blood. Throttle would
never tell her to attack children, even if they were Plutarkian. Maybe he
didn't know. Maybe they were hiding when he did his scouting mission. Charley
had to know. She grabbed her jacket and went back to the complex. It was
a short run for her. She could ignore her body and push it to its limits.
By the time she got there the guys were gone. She could hear them in the
distance, fighting.
She looked around the complex. Bodies were everywhere. All of them dead
and all of them too small to be Plutarkians, but they were Plutarkians.
She could see that with her own eyes, but something else was wrong. Where
was the smell? All Plutarkians smelled, and a Plutarkian base should reek,
but there was no smell. Charley went to the nearest body and rolled it over.
Seafoam green eyes stared lifelessly back at her. Since when did Plutarkians
have green eyes and gold hair? Charley put her hand out and touched the
hair that shouldn't be there. Charley pulled away stunned. She stumbled
away and tripped. She looked down at what she had fallen over. Under her
legs was another body, even smaller than the rest, and definitely not Plutarkian.
The child, and it was a child. It still clutched a burnt doll in its still
arms, it had pale blue skin and short golden hair that moved with the wind.
A child. She had killed a child. They had killed children, and they weren't
Plutarkians. Something was wrong. This couldn't be. No matter how much the
bros hated the Plutarkians they wouldn't kill innocents. They wouldn't kill
children.
Charley ran from the compound and followed the sounds of battle. She had
to find out what was going on. When she came to the top of the hill her
blood stilled. There they were, attacking the Plutarkians that weren't Plutarkians.
No that wasn't right. They weren't attacking, they were hunting and having
the time of their lives doing it. They ran down the ones that were out in
the open and they taunted and jeered at the ones they shot.
She ran from what she saw. It couldn't be true. They couldn't have changed
that much. The war couldn't have done that to them. But could she deny what
she saw? Charley ran back to the place she had called home for months now.
They had told her that it was necessary, that the Plutarkians had to be
stopped, but they weren't Plutarkians.
Charley looked into the reflective surface of the room's only mirror. She
didn't recognize the person that looked back. Gone were her green eyes,
the only feature that she had ever thought was beautiful. Her red-brown
hair was cut in a short pixie style, so unlike how she preferred it. She
ran her figures along the surface of her skin and the sensitive tips of
her fingers and could feel every small hair. When she would pass over a
external sensor wire and small tingling back feed would result. Who was
she? What had she become?
When she tried to lift her other hand to do the same thing she found to
her horror that she held the doll the child had been clutching. When had
she picked that up? She ran her fingers over the doll's yarn hair and its
loose button eyes. Had it been a birthday present? Had the child's eyes
lit up with joy when he had received it? Did his mother spend hours looking
for just the right doll? Something primal and protective rose in Charley.
This had to stop and there was only one way she could do it. Her decision
made, she went to a particular pile of weapons and pulled out what she needed.
Then she waited.
It wasn't long before they came. As was usual, Modo and Throttle were back
first. Modo came in and stayed in the main room and Throttle went to the
back to reload his blaster. Modo had to be first. He was the only one that
had the strength to stop her. She waited until his back was turned to her
and charged the Electronic Disrupter. She touched his mechanical arm with
the charged end and the result was immediate. The Disrupter fried all of
his brain functions and he went down with a strangled cry.
Throttle came back into the room at the sound. He went to his fallen friend.
He knelt beside Modo and placed his still body in his lap. He had ignored
Charley intirely. It was his last mistake. Why did he have to make that
mistake?
"Help me Charlene," he said as he tried to lift the lifeless body.
"I'll help you, Throttle. The only way I know how."
She came up behind him and placed his head against her chest and the tan
mouse was clearly surprised by her action. Charley held his head tightly
and twisted. She held him for a moment remembering how many times that she
had wanted to do this to comfort him, to relieve some of the tension and
pressure of being leader from him. Now he would never have to worry again.
Charley knew that she had a few minutes before Vinnie came. He always stayed
out longer than the other two.
Charley carried Throttle to the back room where he had come from and placed
him in the corner where he would be out of sight. She went to Modo and picked
up his much too light body and placed him on his cot. He always laid down
after a battle. She pulled his covers over his charred arm and wondered
and the burnt hair smell. She had touched the Disrupter on his metal arm.
There shouldn't be such an odor. She didn't have a chance to think about
it more when Vinnie came home.
He burst into the room and threw his weapons on his cot. Charley turned
her back to him and retrieved her weapon of choose. It was a blaster of
her own design. It fit onto her forearm leaving her hands free. It worked
by responding to precise movement of the muscles in her arm. Vinnie called
for Throttle, Charley knew that she only had a few moments before he realized
something was wrong. She turned towards him and froze.
She couldn't do it, but she had to. She had to. He was speaking to her,
but she couldn't hear what he said. He held out his arms to her and like
so many times before, she went to him willingly. He stroked her backside
in a rough manner and when she didn't respond he stepped back a bit and
looked into her face. He reached out his hands and held her face. Tears
streamed down her face, knowing what she had to do. He came close to her
so that her arm was trapped between them. He leaned toward her with a startled
expression on his face. He pulled away and looked down at the hole in his
stomach. Charley didn't even remember firing. He slowly started to sink
to the floor and she helped him. Over and over again she told him how sorry
she was. Holding his body as it got cold.
"I'm sorry," Charlene whimpered in the corner.
The fire in the control panel had destroyed all of the Copy Charley, but
her legacy remained. Charlene remembered everything everything. She hugged
her arms around herself and let herself fall to her side.
"I'm sorry. Oh God, I'm so sorry," she whispered as she laid there.
She didn't even know who she was speaking to anymore. Maybe it was to the
three XenoX that she had believed were her friends. Maybe it was to the
Tulsans she had murdered. Maybe it was to her son. Maybe it was to herself,
but all she could say was
"I'm sorry."
This is a work of fiction that I am in no way making
any money off of. It is not intended to infringe on anyone else's copyright.
It is however something that I wrote and I would ask that you please ask
me first before using the reality or original characters I've created.
She knew this day was coming. She had prepared for nearly five years
for this day. And yet it seemed to sneak up on her and take her buy surprise.
Since the day Charlene Davidson had been forced into her life, Kaals' life
had never been the same. Why hadn't she studied law as her mother had wished,
or even agriculture like her father? No she had to be original, she had
to be different. She had to be a cybernetic artificial intelligence expert.
Kaals tugged on the sleeves of her purple and gold trimmed robe. She tried
to chant the calming rhythms of her childhood in her mind, but the patterns
escaped her. She hadn't been able to meditate for the past three weeks,
and Kaals' inability to return her mind to a calmer, more focused place
was taking its toll on her. She had actually yelled at Vincent the other
day.
The poor boy was only worried about his friend. He didn't mean to drive
her to distraction with his constant questions and endless ponderings. But
after the hundredth time of hearing the words'But why?' anyone would crack.
Kaals deeply regretted what she had said to the Martian male, but what was
done was done and she couldn't take it back.
"It's too soon," the blonde furred doctor said as he raced after
the fast moving Tulsan.
"That may be, but we are out of time. Charlene is expected back to
trial," Kaals said as she made her way through the sterile hospital
halls. Kaals knew that the doctor was right. She knew that Charlene needed
more time to heal mentally, but the council was waiting.
"Miss Davidson is in no condition to undergo trial. She is emotionally
drained and battered. She has been making steady progress, but this may
cause a back slide."
"I understand this Dr. Feals and my government is sympathetic. They
have assured me that they will be as accommodating as possible, but her
presence is required. If she doesn't attend the trial she will be automatically
found guilty. I need not remind you what the penalty is."
Dr. Feals paused for a moment to digest what Kaals had said. Kaals continued
on, not waiting for Charlene's therapist to catch up. It had only been three
weeks since they had found Charlene huddled in the corner of the burning
Torren Monument. They were never quite sure how long she had been there.
When Charlene destroyed her and Lucifer's homing devices Kaals had had no
way to track her. Luckily the fire in the control panel had set off alarms,
or they wouldn't have found Charlene for quite a while.
Vinnie, Throttle, Modo and Stoker had searched the city for hours when a
tip from the spaceport had told them that Charlene had been there causing
a ruckus. Once they arrived, however, she had been no where to be found.
Carbine had been the one to make the call. She let them know that Charlene
had been found in the Monument.
It had been a sad sight indeed and Kaals remembered it clearly. Charlene
had clung to Carbine like a small child frightened by a storm. She would
not let anyone else comfort her. If anyone else touched her she became violent
and unstable. Kaals had tried to establish a link with Charlene's central
processor to determine what had happened, but it wasn't functional. Between
the two of them, Kaals and Carbine had just managed to get the hysterical
human to a ground transport when her worried Martian companions arrived.
Charlene's level of hysteria rose to such a state that she was unintelligible
and incoherent. Nothing soothed her, nothing they said helped, until finally
Carbine made them leave.
The three Martian males left reluctantly, but once they were gone Carbine
was able to convince Charlene to leave with her. During the whole trip Charlene
just kept repeating how sorry she was. She kept begging for Carbine's forgiveness.
She made the female general promise to never let her hurt anyone again.
She made Carbine promise that she would kill Charlene before she harmed
anyone again. After she had wrung the promise from Carbine, Charlene fell
into a heavy, nightmare filled sleep.
For three weeks Charlene had been in therapy. In the beginning she fell
into her old role of Charlene. She mocked and jeered at the doctor's attempt
to help her. She completely refused to talk to anyone in a civilized manner.
Kaals was used to this and was the logical choose to be with Charlene while
the doctors tried to help her. After a few days, Charlene allowed Kaals
to link with her computer mind directly, and the Tulsan was able to track
Charlene's thought process.
Charlene seemed to be shifting from using her organic brain and her computer
processor, although a large portion of her mind seemed to be doormat. With
Kaals' help the doctors were able to determine that the human had a very
unique form of MPD, multiple personality disorder. While using one mind
or the other, Charlene's personality would shift. Neither mind had full
access to memories of the other, but they were aware of each other. Neither
mind seemed to have access to the doormat part that had remained completely
silent. They didn't separate from each other completely, but there seemed
to be something stopping the two personalities from becoming one mind.
The doctors had been working these three weeks trying to get Charlene to
integrate her mind, but she resisted such efforts, the Charlene personality
more so than the Charley. The only time the two would function at the same
time was when Chance came to visit. It was at Carbine's insistence that
the boy meet with his mother. Charley had confided in the Martian female
that she wished desperately to see her son, but was frightened that she
might harm him.
Under Carbine's watchful eye Chance would visit and the meetings seemed
to be more productive then hours of therapy. Charlene was much more relaxed
and Charley would talk freely about amusing antidotes of her past with his
Biker Mice uncles on Earth. Chance's visits were a daily thing. Right after
school he would come to visit for an hour or two and mother and son would
talk about all manners of things. The only time Charlene would become uncomfortable
would be when Chance would ask if she would come home with him.
Charley would skillfully avoid the issue saying that the doctors thought
it was too soon for her to leave and Chance would accept that, but each
time he asked he became more insistent. Once he had asked if his mother
didn't like his uncles any more. Charley hadn't answered the boy and Chance
seemed to understand and didn't ask again.
Kaals approached Charlene's door and sighed. She knew Charlene wasn't ready
to leave the safe walls of the hospital yet, but it couldn't be helped.
She hoped that giving Charlene 24 hours noticed had helped the human prepare
for the trip. Kaals opened the door and made herself appear as calm as possible,
that always seemed to put Charlene at ease. But the preparation was unnecessary
for Charlene Davidson was not inside.
"What the" Kaals almost cursed. She looked around the room. All
of Charlene's things, which weren't much, were packed and waiting on the
bed along with a note, written in Charlene's precise handwriting in the
formal language of Tulsan.
Kaals,
I have gone to finish one last thing before we leave. I will be on the ship
before it docks off. If you would be so kind as to have my things taken
to our cabin I would be most appreciative.
Charley
The last was written in English of course. There was no way to write `Charley'
in Tulsan. Kaals folded the note neatly and tucked it away in her robe.
She said a silent prayer that her friend knew what she was doing. With a
start, Kaals realized, that in a strange and unexplainable way, she thought
of Charlene as her friend. A friendship born of necessity and duty, but
a friendship all the same.
Kaals went to the bed and grabbed Charlene's bag and hauled it off, and
was immediately pulled to the ground. What on Mars did she have in that
thing? Kaals started to drag the bag behind her and mumbled about the things
she did for friendship.
--
"Oh no you don't!" Vinnie exclaimed when one of his rootbeers
tried to roll off of its precarious position on the back of his bike.
Vinnie's hands were already full with a box of other game watching supplies;
hot dogs, chips, ketchup, mustard, onions, relish, but it was a simple matter
for him to whip his tail around and snatch the bottle before it hit the
ground. Vinnie smiled triumphantly as he placed the box he was carrying
on the seat of his bike so that he could place the rootbeer inside. For
some reason, Vinnie let go of one side of the box to take the rootbeer in
hand. Why he didn't just place the bottle in the box with his tail is a
mystery only the gods could fathom. The result was one saved rootbeer and
a pile of garbage as the box toppled over.
"Ah, man."
Vinnie cursed his luck and bent behind his bike to start cleaning up the
mess he had made. His bike beeped and flashed the time on its display. Vinnie
groaned and realized that he wouldn't have time to go back and get more
stuff for the game, which meant that he was buying again. While he was trying
to retrieve a dog that had rolled under the tire of his bike a familiar
low roaring engine turned the corner. Vinnie looked up over the seat of
his bike to see Charley ride by on Lucifer.
"What the?"
Vinnie knew that Charley was suppose to be in the hospital getting treatment
and resting, so what was she doing out here? Not being able to resist finding
out, Vinnie found a nearby rubbish can, got rid of his mess, and followed.
He kept a safe distance, making sure that she wouldn't see him. He was quite
surprised when Charley came to a halt a block away from Ivory and Chance's
house. Vinnie watched Charley watch his bros as they helped Chance with
his equipment and helmet. Today was the first season game of Junior Sackball.
Chance was the lead blocker, chosen for his size and strength. Throttle
and Modo had volunteered to take him to his first game, Vinnie had been
stuck with getting the refreshments. Chance was very excited about this
first game. It was all he talked about.
When Throttle finished strapping all of Chance's safety equipment on the
back of his bike he lifted the boy onto the back of Modo's bike. Throttle
tugged on the boy's ear, to which Chance swatted his hand away. Modo laughed
and made the young mouse put on his helmet. After all three were settled,
they waved their good-byes to Ivory and rode off. Once they were out of
sight, Charley started Lucifer back up and headed towards the house. Ivory
was about to go back in when the sound of an approaching bike made her turn
around.
Vinnie inched his way up, making sure that he was still too far away to
be noticed. Charley pulled off her helmet and Ivory gasped in surprise when
she realized who was in front of her. He got as close as he dared and then
activated his bike's spying microphone. He directed it at the two females
and listened.
"Hello, Ivory. You're looking well," Charley commented to the
startled mouse.
"Angel?"
Charley grinned at the bewildered question, "Yeah, it's me mostly."
"What are you doing here? I thought that you were still in the hospital.
The doctors said that you were" Suddenly Ivory stopped and blushed
at what she was about to say.
"too unstable to be in polite company?" Charley finished for her.
Ivory nodded and looked to the ground shamed.
"It's ok. They're right you know. I shouldn't be out roaming the streets,
but there was a few things I needed to take care of before I left."
Charley reached into her leather jacket and produced a think fold of paper.
She handed it to Ivory.
"What's this?" the pale mouse asked as she scanned the paperwork.
"It's a Martian legal document that signs over all custody of Chance
to you, Throttle, Modo and Vinnie. I am withdrawing all legal right to Chance."
Vinnie listened stunned. Why would she do such a thing? Chance was the most
important thing in her life, why would she give him up? Ivory looked equally
floored. The female mouse flipped through the paperwork and the look on
her face told Vinnie that what Charley had just said was true.
"But, why?" Ivory asked Vinnie's unspoken question.
"Ivory I don't know what's going to happen at my trial, and I need
to make sure that Chance is taken care of, legally."
"But, you don't need to sign away all legal right to do that,"
Ivory said, searching Charley's sunglass covered eyes for answers.
Charley sighed and removed her glasses and fixed the female mouse with her
silver eyes. "I don't truly know who or what I am anymore. Quite frankly
I am still a danger to myself and those around me. I want to make sure that
you and the guys have to power to" Charley looked away. "to take
Chance away from me if I become dangerous again."
Ivory looked stricken and appalled at the idea. "Charley you would
never hurt Chance. What happened before wasn't your fault."
Charley gave a crooked smile. "Everyone keeps telling me that, but
the fact remains that I killed three people that were closest to me. I can't
risk that again."
"Charley, you killed three XenoX in the defense of the Tulsans they
were slaughtering, not the guys."
"The bodies I killed were XenoX, but to me in my heart they were Throttle,
Vinnie and Modo. No matter what anyone says I killed them." Charley
jammed her glasses back on. "Look I didn't come to upset you, or argue
the past. I just needed to give you the papers and ask directions to the
field where Chance is playing today. I want to see this Sackball he keeps
talking about, and I want to say goodbye."
"Why don't I take you. Just give me a moment to get my helmet."
Charley gave a curt nod and Ivory raced into the house. Vinnie watched Charley
go back to her bike and pulled a small silver case from the saddlebag. She
pulled a Tag and a match from inside and put the case back. After lighting
the stick she blew out the match with a puff of greenish gray smoke and
put the burned out match in her jacket pocket. Vinnie carefully backed his
bike up and walked it far enough away so that Charley wouldn't hear it start
up. Once satisfied that he was far enough, he rode out towards the field.
Vinnie, quite honestly, didn't know what to think of what Charley had said.
Would he have killed his bros to save the Tulsans? He thought back to when
Stoker had been under Plutarkian control. Would he have been able to kill
his mentor to save his own people? He knew the answer was no. He wouldn't
have had the strength, and to think that Charley had been forced to make
such a decision, turned his stomach.
Vinnie turned into the parking lot for the Sackball field and left his bike
next to his bros. He walked to the stands and searched for his friends.
They weren't hard to find. There was only one set of stands, unlike most
Earth games that had a `There' side and an `Us' side. There were about forty
Martians there. Mostly families coming to see they're little ones play.
In the center of the stands were his bros, Stoker and Carbine. He was rather
surprised to see Throttle's ex there, but didn't think much of it. Carbine
had become rather close to Charley and Chance over the last few weeks.
Modo saw him approach. He stood up and waved him over, in case Vinnie couldn't
see his bulk in the middle of all those mothers and children. Vinnie made
his way over, giving half-heard apologies when he had to walk between the
spectators to get to his destination. Modo gave him a friendly shove into
his seat and smiled down at him from his great height.
"You forget the grub again, Vin?" Modo asked teasingly.
"Yeah, here," Vinnie said as he tossed his wallet over.
Modo gave him a puzzled look. Modo always knew when something wasn't quite
right with one of his bros, and he was giving Vinnie one of his `you can
talk to me' looks. Vinnie just waved the gray mouse off, not really sure
if he wanted to talk right now. Modo excepted the non-answer, but gave back
the good old `we'll talk later' look. Throttle, Stoker and Carbine kept
talking, oblivious to the exchange between himself and Modo. This suited
Vinnie just fine. He needed a moment to collect his thoughts, but as soon
as Throttle turned to look at him Vinnie blurted out what was utmost on
his mind.
"Do you blame Charley for what happened?" he said the last in
a whisper.
The smile that had been on Throttle's face slowly drained away to a slight
frown. "What do ya mean Vinnie?"
Vinnie got nervous and wished he hadn't asked the question., but now that
it was said he couldn't pretend that he hadn't asked. "Do you blame
Charley for what happened on Sellous Prime?"
Throttle gave a big sigh and looked down at his hands that were steepled
in his lap. "Vinnie, we all do things during war that we wouldn't have
done otherwise. Charley thought that she was fighting the Plutarkians, she
didn't know that they were really Tulsans until the end."
"That's not what I meant" Vinnie looked away, across the field
where the kids were warming up for the game. "Do you blame Charley
for what she did what she thought she did to us?"
Throttle seemed unwilling to answer the question. From the corner of his
eye, Vinnie could see Throttle rub his muzzle with his gloved hand. A motion
his friend often did when he was trying to put his thoughts into words.
"Vinnie, I don't know how to answer that. Charley did what she did
to save a lot of lives. I would like to think that she wouldn't believe
that we would ever do something like that. I would have hoped that she would
have been able to see past what her eyes were telling her and see the lie
for what it was. How can I blame her for something she thought she did,
but didn't really happen? She really thought with all her heart and mind
that she killed us"
"And it destroyed her." Carbine bit angrily back. She must have
heard they're conversation despite they're hushed voices. Vinnie had rarely
seen Carbine this upset. "Charlene came back from something that none
of us could have possibly imagined. Her mind was ripped from her and stuffed
back in like dirty laundry, and when she came back to her senses she was
made to do things that her damaged mind couldn't handle so she made it into
something it wasn't. She put the three of you into her fantasy life because
she trusted you and loved you enough to believe that you wouldn't do anything
that would hurt anyone without a reason. Then, when she finally began to
heal and realize that the world around her wasn't what she thought it was,
she thought that the people she trusted most in universe were"
Carbine looked away, angry tears falling from her face. "If you're
going to blame Charlene for what happened then you might as well condemn
me as well."
"What are you talking about Carbine?" Stoker asked, not being
able to stay out of the conversation any longer.
"If you'll remember the Plutarkians had me believing that the three
of you sold Mars out with a video tape. I have known you guys for years.
We grew up together. I should have known better, but I still let them trick
me into believing that you sold us out. At least Charlene had an excuse.
She was under incredible stress, but I just believed what those slime balls
told me without question."
"Carbine" Throttle said in sympathy, but Carbine wasn't willing
to be soothed.
"Don't Throttle. Just don't. It's something that I've had to live with
and I'll have to live with it for the rest of my life."
"Did something happen while I was gone?" Modo asked from behind
the pile of hot dogs and drinks that he was carrying.
"Just pouring salt into old wounds, Modo." Carbine said as she
stood up. "I've got to go. The air around here has turned foul."
The four Martian males watched her go. The mood had turned foul and
poor Modo didn't even know why. The remaining mice tried to recover what
was left of the afternoon, but it was going to be hard with the cloud that
was hanging over them.
==
Charley parked Lucifer at the farthest end of the parking lot, away from
all the other vehicles and let Ivory dismount before taking off her helmet.
The light cream colored mouse put her helmet on one of Lucifer's handlebars
and the bike seemed to take offense, but with a sharp kick from it's master
it quieted down. Charley balanced her own helmet on the other handgrip and
followed Ivory towards the field. The human followed blindly until they
were about to round the field towards the stands. Charley froze.
"Do you mind if I sit over there?" Charley asked pointing to the
opposite side of the field.
Ivory looked over at the stands and the four Martian males that dominated
the center of the seats. She looked back at Charley sympathetically. A part
of Charley was irritated that the mouse felt pity for her, but Charley was
in control so she kept her mouth shut.
"I don't mind. Do you want me to sit with you?"
`I don't need to be babysat,' an angry part of Charley wanted to
scream.
"No that's all right. I kind of want to be alone."
Ivory smiled in understanding. What did she know about what I've gone
through? Charley bit her tongue to keep the words from spilling out
and smiled back. The smile fled as soon as Ivory turned her back. Charlene
started to walk around to the other side of the field, reaching into her
inside jacket pocket as she went. She gave an angry curse when she couldn't
find her Tags there. I don't think they allow smoking on the grounds.
Charlene just snarled at the thought and continued walking, trying to remember
where she had put them. In the saddlebags, the answer came back.
It was damn annoying to Charlene to not be `awake' all the time. She didn't
like waking to find herself in a place she didn't remember coming to. It
was dangerous not having your bearings all the time. She didn't much like
this softer, weaker side of herself that said `please' and `thank you' all
the time, either. She didn't like the days she'd find tears on her face,
and sorrow filling her heart for mice she didn't even know. But, I know
them.
Charlene shook the thought away and kept walking, not really remembering
where she was supposed to go. That was remedied when a sharp cry caught
her attention.
"Momma!"
Charlene turned to find a bundle of energy barreling down on her from the
direction of the field. Chance was all decked out in some kind of sports
equipment with a big Martian number eleven on the jersey. Chance threw off
his helmet and opened his arms wide as he ran towards her.
"He's not going to stop," Charlene whispered out loud and a smiling
voice whispered back, I know.
Charley opened her own arms and Charlene let the boy topple them over onto
the ground. Charlene laid on her back and looked up at the young Martian
hybrid that was sitting on her stomach. Pure childish pleasure lit the boy's
face and she couldn't help but smile back. Emotions started to bubble up
inside her and Charlene didn't even attempt to stop them. This was OK, this
was right somehow, and it was the singular thing that she had in common
with her weaker side.
"Are you suppose to be tackling the spectators in this sport? If I'd
have known I would have brought my helmet."
"Momma," Chance said with a faint blush in his ears.
Charlene rolled over and got Chance under her. It was hard, but she found
a place that his sports armor wasn't covering and began to tickle the child
mercilessly. Tears rolled out of Chance's tightly closed eyes as his mother's
quick fingers found all of his ticklish spots. He tried to defend himself
but it was no use. Charley had some mercy for her son and let him up.
"Are you going to watch the game?" Chance asked excitedly.
"Well, you kept going on and on and on about how fun this game was,
so I decided to check it out. Remind me again how you play."
Chance proceeded to instruct his mother on the finer points of Sackball
strategy. Charlene had already read the book, `How to Play Sackball', back
in the hospital. She could recite the rules, in order, by memory. She could
even tell you the pages each rule was on, but the book had held none of
Chance's enthusiasm. The young player talked as fast as his tongue could
wag, and if Charlene hadn't had all ready known the rules she wouldn't have
been able to follow her son's twisting logic.
"Now do you understand?" Chance asked when he came up for air.
Charley smiled at her son and pulled on his ears, "I think I'll understand
better once I see the game." Charley helped Chance to his feet and
pushed him towards his waiting teammates.
Chance ran back to the field, only stopping briefly to pick up his helmet
and give a wave to his mother. Charley waved back and Charlene gave a smirk.
He's going to wipe the floor with them. Charley blushed at the un-sportsman
like thought. She watched as the two teams emerged from the joined dugout
and take the field. It was instantly obvious that Chance was the tallest
kid out there. It gave Charlene a strange twinge of pride. They'll think
twice before messing with my boy.
"Would you just stop it," Charley whispered to herself. "It's
just a friendly game."
Charley and Charlene rarely directly talked to each other. In fact it was
becoming harder and harder to tell when one stopped and the other began.
Her doctors would be thrilled that she was starting to integrate, but it
give Charley a since of unease. She never use to have thoughts that were
viscous and just plain selfish.
Oh, come off it Charley, Charlene sneered. You did, you just never
acknowledged it.
Charley hated that she had to admit that Charlene was right. After all,
didn't she save the prisoner population of Torren so that she could escape?
"No, I did it for Chance," Charley tried to amend.
Bullshit! You started plans before Chance was ever conceived.
Charley started to feel shamed, but her tempered flared. "I was trying
to get us ALL out of there!"
But you were ready to give up. You were ready to just let the Plutarkians
have what they wanted.
"I was just so tired. I couldn't fight anymore."
Charley could remember how alone she had felt, how dead. She couldn't move,
couldn't see, hear taste or feel anything. Her whole world had been reduced
to numbers and computer systems. She knew everything, but could do nothing.
She had started to let her consciousness slip when something happened. Chance
happened.
For the first time in months Charley had felt something. It had been like
a tiny butterfly that kept fluttering against her waning consciousness.
It had been very much like how she felt when Throttle was around. Charley
knew that her friend never knew how his unique debriefing on the day they
first met had affected her, and she never told him. Anytime Throttle was
around she could feel him. Kind of like you could feel someone watching
you. It hadn't been unpleasant and sometimes it had been very comforting
knowing where he was all the time. Sometimes, if she had tried really hard,
and if Throttle had been thinking about her, she could almost sense his
feelings.
At first Charley had thought that they had finally come. That the guys had
finally come to rescue her from this awful place that was draining her away,
but as she fought for her consciousness back she realized that it hadn't
been true. They hadn't come. At first she had felt more alone than before.
She was going to die in this place and no one would even know, but then
she felt it. Life. It had been inside her. Growing, living, fighting to
be known. Once Charley had reestablished all her connections to the Plutarkian
computer system she found out what they had done. She had been pregnant.
She was going to be a mother. She was going to have a child. A boy. That's
when she began to fight, to really fight.
Everything she did she did for Chance and no one else. When Charley had
found out how the Martians had praised her and memorialized her as some
kind of Guardian Angel she had felt sick. She hadn't given the other prisoners
another thought once she had started making plans to get Chance out of Torren.
And, God help her, she had been happy that Ivory's newborn son had died.
It had given her a way to get Chance out of the research lab. She had forced
her body to give birth that day so that she could exchange Chance with the
unnamed infant.
So you finally admit it, Angel. Charlene laughed. You finally
admit that you were only thinking of yourself when Ivory's baby died. You
didn't even spare her a thought at her loss. All you saw was your opportunity.
"Yes, damn it," Charley hissed back. Tears were falling from her
eyes and Charlene angrily wiped them away. "And I will never stop feeling
guilty about it either. So stop trying to justify it or push it away."
Why should I care? Charlene bristled.
"You care, you selfish little bitch," Charley smiled. "Or
you wouldn't feel uncomfortable when you're around her."
For the first time, Charlene had nothing to say. Charley heard the crowd
cheer and she forced her attention from the internal to the external. She
took off her jacket laid it on the grass next to her. The opposing team
had just scored a point. Charley looked towards the stands and found them
easily. Ivory seemed rather distressed that Chance's team was now behind.
Like any good mother would, Charlene said, throwing the barb to get
back at Charley. Charley had to agree. Ivory was a good mother. A better
mother than she would have been, and maybe that was her penitence for not
feeling sorrow at Ivory's loss. Modo reached out and patted Ivory's hand
reassuringly. Throttle, Vinnie and Stoker were shouting encouragement at
the top of their lungs, and were easily heard over the rest of the crowd.
"It's hard watching them. Not really being apart of them, but unable
to take that last, long step to be with them."
Charley was surprised at Carbine's voice behind her, and Charlene smiled.
Damn, she's good. She said with admiration. Charley watched the gray
female mouse with jet black hair sit beside her and look towards the stands
with the same longing she was sure was on her own face. Who would have thought
that Charley would find the perfect friend in Carbine? She only talked when
she knew you needed to. She never pried. She never made her feel uncomfortable
or unworthy. How had Throttle ever let her go? She knew the answer to that.
Carbine had forced him to let go. Self imposed exile. Charley understood
that too well. It was a subject that neither of them talked directly about,
but was in every conversation they had.
"I'm leaving today."
"I know," Carbine said without looking at her. "Are you going
to say goodbye to them?"
It wasn't necessary to say who `them' were. "I don't know yet."
"I'll be there if you need me."
"I know."
They sat quietly for a long while, each pretending that they were watching
the game instead of the bleachers. Across the field, Charley saw Throttle
stand up and politely make his way down the stands. Carbine sighed and turned
her head to watch him walk to the refreshment booth, hiding the movement
by resting her head upon her bent knees.
"He's just a guy," Charlene said bitterly. She was becoming annoyed
by the wistfulness in Carbine's mannerisms.
"You wouldn't say that if you had even been in love."
"Who needs it anyway?" Charlene asked, grabbing a fist full of
red-brown grass and flinging it into the air.
"I do," Carbine and Charley said in unison.
"Pathetic," Charlene declared to both of them.
"It's getting harder for you to keep Charley quiet," Carbine said
with a grin as she turned towards her human friend.
"Do you know that I actually said sorry to this idiot that ran into
me this morning in the hospital?! The jerk was practically running through
the halls, plows into me and then she says, `I'm sorry', like I was the
one that hit him!"
Carbine hid her smile in her knees so that Charlene couldn't see her amusement,
but she wasn't able to stop the laughter that erupted when Charley spoke.
"He was not running through the hall. He was turning the corner and
I took it too sharply and we just ran into each other. Not everyone is out
to get me, you know," Charley corrected herself and grinned at Carbine's
amusement.
"You wouldn't say that if you were the one that was living everyday
of your life knowing that someone has already picked a day for you to die,"
Charlene snapped back.
"But that's the problem, isn't it?" Carbine said as she turned
towards Charley/Charlene. "Charlene will never have a childhood, a
mother, a father, old friends, a past to learn from, and Charley will never
have the self-confidence, the drive, the audacity, the certainty of death
to be the cold, hard fighter. You two can see each other's life but neither
of you can experience each other's life."
"Get to the point, General," Charlene bit out angrily between
clenched teeth.
"My point is that the two of you need to stop acting like children,
jealously guarding their favorite toy and share with each other. Find something
between the hate and the fear, the guilt and the anger. Stop trying to act
like the other one doesn't exist. What are the two of you protecting?"
Charley/Charlene turned away and stared at the field. Neither wished to
answer, because neither knew the answer. Charley/Charlene picked a point
on the field, the white middle line, and concentrated on it, trying to focus
and restrain the emotions Carbine had let loose. The harder it became the
harder they tried to focus, until finally that white line began to grow
and encompass them and they couldn't see the field anymore, but a stark
white room.
Both looked up and were surprised to see each other on either side of the
windowless room. Charlene had her sunglasses firmly in place, her leather
jacket was open to reveal a black tank-top tucked into black leather pants
that ended with black hobnailed boots. She took a match and Tag from inside
her jacket, stuck the match against the heel of her boot. She lit the Tag,
the burning green tip brightened her all black attire with emerald highlights.
Charlene extinguished the match with a sharp flick of her hand and threw
the smoldering match at Charley's feet.
Charley looked timidly over at the intimidating woman through the vale of
her short bangs. She tried to hide her nervously shaking hands, but realized
that her jeans had no pockets, in fact, her jeans had no seams, buttons
or zipper. It was as if they were painted on, but they weren't skintight.
Charley looked at her shirt and found that it was the same as her pants,
no buttons or seams, but it was being held closed somehow. Charley looked
over at her companion with the question clearly on her face.
"Don't ask me, sister. I didn't do it," Charlene said pulling
on her Tag.
"Don't worry Charley. It always happens with the new ones."
Both woman turned to see a third, this one looking just as Charley, but
with all her buttons in the right place and a toolbelt hung low on her hips.
She smiled disarmingly, to which Charlene glared and Charley frowned.
"What do you mean? It happens to the new ones," Charley asked.
Her look-alike sighed and made a motion for them to follow her. "It
will be easier to explain if you come with me."
Charlene and Charley looked at each other and then followed the other through
a door they had neglected to notice earlier. They followed the other woman
to a door and she pushed it open. Inside was another version of Charlene
Davidson. She was in the middle of a room littered with bodies, Tulsan,
Plutarkian and three Martians. She held the white furred Martian in her
lap as she rocked and cried, completely unaware of anyone else.
"She came before you," the other Charley said. "She was made
to deal with Sellous Prime."
Before Charley of Charlene could ask a question the other woman closed the
door and opened another. Inside was a Charlene Davidson that had been on
Torren. Her body was almost wasted away. Her head had been shaved and there
were countless wires and tubes running from her body. On the wall was a
video screen with her image there.
"How is my son?" she asked with an eerie metallic voice. "Is
Chance all right?"
"She's Chance's mother. Don't bother to answer. She can't hear you.
She stopped living when Torren blew up."
The Charley guide turned to leave this room for another when Charlene lost
her patience.
"Wait just a damn minute!" Charlene shouted as she made a grab
for their guide. Charlene looked momentarily uneased when her hand passed
straight through.
"You'll understand when you meet the First," their guide said
as she led them past a door.
"What's in there?" Charley asked out of curiosity.
"That's my room," she said absently as she continued forward.
"Why don't we take a look," Charlene said with malicious glee.
"No!" Charley guide yelled as Charlene threw open the door.
Two gloved hands came out of the room and grabbed their guide and yanked
her in. Charley and Charlene looked at each other in startled surprise and
both of them turned to gaze into the room. Inside they found an exact replica
of The Last Chance Garage, complete with Martian mice.
"Charley-ma'am, where have you been! We've been lookin' all over for
you," Modo exclaimed excitedly.
"I was," Charley-guide said hesitating as she turned to looked
at her look-alikes behind her. "I was just taking care of business."
"Well, come on Charley-girl. We have to get goin' before Vinnie gets
back," Throttle said with a conspiring grin. "We need to get all
this stuff ready or we're goin' to be the only ones surprised by Vinnie's
surprise birthday party."
Charlene and Charley looked about the room at all of the balloons and streamers.
They were being completely ignored by the two male mice. Charlene just snorted
at all of the brightly colored party favors, but Charley recognized this
moment in time. It was Vinnie's first birthday on Earth. He was the first
of the guys to have a birthday while they were here and she had suggested
a surprise party. Charley remembered working all morning while Vinnie was
on patrol to get it ready.
"Guys," Charley-guide said. "I have to go get something.
I promise I'll be right back."
"You better hurry Charley-ma'am. We don't have much time until Vinnie
gets back," Modo reiterated as he tied off another balloon to stack
with the others on the floor.
"Don't worry guys. You won't even know I was gone." With that
their guide ushered them out of the room and closed the door. She sighed
and leaned heavily on the door.
"I remember that," Charley said, pointing to the door. "We
barely had the Garage ready before Vinnie got back." She smiled and
crossed her arms over her stomach. "He was so happy."
"What is that place?" Charlene asked, pointing to the closed door.
"That is where all the moments of my life live," Charley-guide
said.
"Then are you dead like the others?" Charley asked.
"I died the day I got captured by the Plutarkians," their guide
sighed as she continued on down the long hallway.
They went down the corridor and past another open door. Inside was another,
younger, Charlene Davidson. She sat alone on a racetrack beside the twisted
remains of a red racing bike. She rocked back and forth crying saying over
and over again that she should have made him listen, that she should have
made him call off the race. Charley shivered, remembering that moment. She
remembered how much she wished that she could just die and start over.
"Why are they all suffering like that? Why are you the only one that
isn't trapped in such a horrible moment?" Charley asked.
"I don't regret my life. I'm the only one that believes that the bad
days were worth the good days. I do have moments when all I can remember
is the bad days, but they don't last," Charley-guide said as they entered
the last room in the hallway.
"I thought I was going to be the last. I was going to be the one that
carried all the memories, good and bad, but She thought we needed another
so Chance's mother was born. When Torren blew up and the XenoX did what
they did. She decided to make another to deal with Sellous Prime. After
that you were born," Charley-guide said pointing to Charlene.
"Who is She you keep talking about?" Charlene demanded, clearly
pissed that she was being referred to as Another.
Charley-guide didn't answer, but pointed instead. In the corner of the room,
huddled into a tiny ball was a little girl. She was in soot covered nightclothes
and she was crying into her bent knees.
"She is the first," Charley-guide said simply. She bent before
the girl and put a hand on her head. "Charley, they're here. Are you
going to talk to them?"
"No, no. I have to I have to make another one. I can't go to the Tulsan
home world. I can't face all those families. I have to make another to talk
for us. I have to"
"Stop it Charley!" Charley-guide said as she shook the little
girl. "You have to stop it. You can't keep making personalities to
deal with the bad things that scare you."
"But I have to, don't you see!" the child sobbed. "I can't
live with all pain. I can't live with all hurt. I can't live with what I
did!"
Charley saw that their guide was fast losing her patients. Charley approached
the girl and asked her double to leave her alone. She sat in front of the
child and took her small hands in her own. One hand was slightly burned
at the fingertips and in the other hand was a half empty book of matches.
"You made me. Didn't you Charley?" she asked the little girl.
"Yes, but you're not strong enough. You feel too much. You can't make
the pain go away."
"What about Charlene?" Charley asked about woman that was now
staring a hole in her back. "She's strong."
"Yes, but she hates everybody. I don't want to hate everybody."
"Why isn't she in a room like the others?"
"I can't make her. She's in the other place with all the metal and
wires. I can't make her stay there."
"Charley, are you scared?"
The girl nodded.
"Are you tired?"
"Yes."
"Are you hurt?"
"Yes."
"So am I."
The little girl looked up with a tear-streaked face. Charley reached out
to the little girl and pulled the matches from her hand.
"Let me be the one that's scared, tired and hurt. You don't have to
do that anymore."
"But I have to hurt. I'm the one that killed Daddy."
"Charley, you were a little girl. You didn't know what you were doing."
"But you're not strong enough. We've hurt so many people. We feel too
much pain," the little girl whimpered.
"It's all right Charley. With Charlene's help I can handle it. Let
me take all the memories, good and bad. Let me take the pain, because with
it comes the joy. Let me take over and let yourself rest. Let all of them
rest."
The little girl looked up at her latest creation. She had made this one
with too soft a heart. She looked past her to the lady in leather. She had
made Charlene too hard. The child rubbed at her tears with her soot-covered
hand that would never come clean. She was sacred. Sacred of going on and
giving in, but she didn't want the pain anymore. She couldn't live with
the pain anymore. She kept making more and more walls in the form of other
Charlene Davidsons to hide behind, but it never worked for every long. Somehow
the pain always found it's way in.
"The universe isn't as bad as you think it is, Charley," the older
woman whispered to the child.
"What's so good about it?" the child asked, bitterly. "My
Father is dead."
"But my son is alive," she countered.
"And so are my friends," Charley-guide spoke for the first time
since she backed away.
"And so are you," Charlene answered angrily.
The three other females looked at her in surprise that she spoke and she
didn't stop there.
"If I understand this correctly I'm just a cut out paper doll you made
because you couldn't handle being hurt anymore, but you were trying to replace
me with her because I hate too much. Well, let me tell you something sister
" Charlene snarled as she stalked across the room like a panther. "I
do hate too much. I hate sleeping in a new bed every few month because I
have no place to call my own. I hate waking up everyday knowing it's getting
me one day closer to a trial for a crime I don't remember committing. I
hate looking at Chance knowing I'm never going to see him grow up. I hate
pushing people away because someday I won't be there for them. I hate watching
life knowing I won't have it for very much longer. But mostly I hate you."
Charlene pointed at the child and for the first time in her short existence
Charlene cried.
"I hate you for giving up, but expecting us to live on. I hate you
for making me only to kill me when you thought I wasn't needed. I hate you
for throwing away what I'd kill to possess and I hate you for giving me
the will to live. I don't care what's in my past or in my future, all I
want is to live, but now your trying to take that from me too. Well, I won't
let you."
The room began to get darker as the wall turned from pristine white to coal
black.
"What are you doing?" Charley-guide asked as the room began to
shake.
"I'm fighting. I don't care if you stay in your little room and play
house with those Martian Mice," Charlene told the guide with the blunt
end of her finger against the other's chest. "I don't care if the little
brat stays in the corner for eternity and balls her eyes out. I don't care
if I never see any of you ever again, because I'm going to fight, with or
without you."
"You won't be seeing them again Charlene, just me."
Charley walked over to her double with the tool belt on and took both her
hands in hers.
"Let go. The others already have, just let go," Charley pleaded.
"You won't forget, will you?" she asked as she started to fade
from sight.
"How could I ever forget?"
Charley turned to the little girl. "Let go," she said.
The child nodded and fell into a pile of ash. Charley turned to the only
other occupant in the room.
"Don't look at me sister. I ain't going anywhere," Charlene said
stubbornly as she crossed her arms over her chest.
"I wouldn't want you to. You will let go when the time is right,"
Charley said softly folding her hands in front of herself.
"Why do I have to be the one to `let go'," Charlene snorted. "Why
don't you just `let go' and let me handle it."
"Because you don't remember. It may be that I will be the one to go,
but not until you remember. I won't give up until you remember."
"I guess we're stuck with each other then," Charlene said, not
sounding as upset as she could have been.
"I guess so," Charley answered, sounding quite pleased.
"The game is over."
"What?" Charlene asked, feeling dazed and disoriented as she looked
around herself.
Carbine looked down at her from where she stood beside her human friend
and pointed to the field. "The Sackball game, remember? It's over."
Charlene looked across the field where mothers and fathers were congratulating
their children as they came off the field. She glanced over at the scoreboard
and realized that the game was tied, 11 all. Carbine tapped Charlene's shoulder
and offered her hand. The human took it and allowed her Martian friend to
help her to her feet. As she was brushing grass and dirt from her pants,
Charlene noticed that Chance was coming her way with uncles in tow.
Oh great, here they come. Calm down, stay focused, they're your
friends, remember? Charlene grinned crookedly. I remember. Chance
dropped Modo's hand and ran the rest of the way to his mother. Charlene
knelt down and gave the boy a near bone-crunching hug. The boy's uncles
stood behind him along with Carbine and Ivory.
"Are you all right Ma'ma?" he asked into her neck.
Charlene pulled back and took her son's head in her hands and looked deep
into his eyes. On the surface she could see her own reflection, but under
that she could see herself as she once was looking back at her. In that
moment Charlene realized that Chance knew far more than he was letting on.
Charlene took her son's head and laid his forehead against her own. She
leaned forward until his short, pink antennae touched her scalp.
Chance wasn't a full-bloodied Martian so he couldn't transfer thoughts at
will, but his hybrid Martian/Human genes did allow him to read minds with
contact, if the subject was willing. Charlene opened her mind to her son.
She let him see everything that she was and everything she had been. She
let him see the turmoil that her emotions were in and the delicate line
she walked to keep her sanity. Maybe a seven-year-old shouldn't know the
things he now knew about his mother, but Charlene wasn't going to miss this
opportunity. She may never return from the Tulsan homeworld. She may never
have another chance to share with her son how much she loved him in the
way Martian mothers share with their children.
Charlene pulled away from her son and waited for him to either accept her
or reject her. Her heart lurched when she saw the fear in Chance's eyes.
She felt the tears pricking needles in the back of her metallic eyes as
she struggled not to cry. Charlene tried to withdraw from her son so that
she would cause him no more discomfort. Now she was sure that she had done
the right thing in giving custody of Chance away. Before she could stand
Chance wrapped his arms around his mother's neck and kissed her softly on
the cheek.
"You will always be my mother," he whispered to her, and Charlene
wasn't entirely sure she had heard him with her ears.
The tears did start to flow then and Charlene wiped them away angrily. She
didn't want to show her weakness in front of the others, but as she stood
she could see that they had already seen. Stop being so defensive.
They're friends, remember? Charlene let her jaw clench. Shut up.
I know what I'm doing.
"I have to go now," Charlene said as she backed a step away from
Chance.
Throttle took a step forward to place his hands on Chance's shoulders. The
young boy seemed to lean into his uncle for support and Throttle gave by
tightening his hold on the child. Charlene turned to Carbine and held her
arm out to her. The Martian General clasped Charlene's forearm and the human
did likewise.
"Keep the place together, and don't take any shi", Charlene looked
down at Chance's shocked face and amended her words. "bull from these
guys." She then turned to Ivory and offered her arm in the same manner,
which the cream colored mouse took without hesitation.
"Make sure Chance eats right, and I don't mean hot dogs and rootbeer
for every meal."
"Mooomm," Chance complained, when his uncles and Ivory laughed.
Quickly, before she had a chance to reconsider, Charlene offered her arm
to a stunned Throttle. He hesitated so long that Charlene was about to pull
back when he grasped her forearm. She gripped his forearm tightly and the
tingling sensation that was residual from their first meeting hummed. Her
heart flipped-flopped in her tight chest. She hadn't, until that moment,
realized that she had missed it. Throttle must have felt something too.
"Charley-girl?" he started to ask, but Charlene cut him off.
"You better take good care of my son, or" Charlene tighten her
grip until she saw Throttle wince slightly, "you'll answer to me."
Throttle's only response was to nod his head, but the look he gave her over
the rim of his shades told her that he wasn't going to let the last few
minutes go unanswered. Charlene withdrew her arm from Throttle and willingly
gave it to Modo. The tall gray mouse hesitated, looking first to his mechanical
right arm then to her's. Charlene angrily took Modo's arm and yanked him
towards herself. She leaned in and whispered bitterly to him under her breath.
"It's been over ten years Modo. If you can't learn to live with being
different how will Chance ever be comfortable?" she asked him.
Charlene left Modo to ponder what she had said, feeling only the tinniest
nudge of guilt for being so rough on him. Then she turned to Vinnie. Why
was it so much harder to look at him? Might-have-beens and should-have-dones.
That's why it's harder. Charlene tried to swallow, but her throat was
constricted with emotions she couldn't even count or name. She didn't get
a chance to offer her arm before Vinnie outstretched his. Outwardly she
appeared calm, but inside her muscles tightened painfully in an effort to
keep her from running. Charlene grasped Vinnie's arm in a bruising grip
in the attempt to intimidate him and to distance herself from him. Vinnie
didn't seem to notice.
"Try not to get yourself killed," she told him as she tried to
pull her arm away, but Vinnie wouldn't let go.
"Take care of yourself, Charlene. I," he paused and looked down
at their joined arms.
Very slowly he began to rub his thumb across the bare skin and glittering
wires of Charlene's arm. Charlene wished desperately that she had left her
jacket on. Her sensor net was precisely cataloguing every whisper soft stroke
of every follicle of fur. Burned and etched into her permanent memory was
the exact amount of skin he was touching and with how much pressure. Forever
would she remember with perfect clarity how fast his thumb was moving and
in what direction. She tried to conjure up some anger at Vinnie's actions,
but was unable to even move. Anger she could control. Anger she could understand.
But this was too much.
"We need you here, Charley. Please, come home," Vinnie continued.
All Charlene could do was nod. Vinnie held on for a few more seconds and
then let her arm drop. Carbine tapped her shoulder and offered Charlene
the jacket she had abandoned on the grass. Charlene took it, grateful to
have something to do with her hands. Mechanically she put her jacket on
and pulled her long braid from under the black leather. She reached into
her pocket and looked for her fingerless gloves. Charlene took great care
in putting on the well-worn leather riding gloves, giving herself enough
time to collect herself.
"I have to go," she said simply as she zipped her jacket all the
way to her throat. She reached down briefly to brush the sad, lonely tear
from Chance's cheek before turning away.