|
Suddenly Memories: MoreLikePuma
By Dac
Puma bent over his computer and tapped furiously away at the system archives, going through every training record the Guardsmen had been through, analysing the details and adding to the list of all known superhumans from their past. Data had been down to see him and given him a very specific task: analyse the abilities, specifically the most powerful one. It had been a few days after the renegade FinalFant4sy had resurfaced, and Data had come off the worse for wear in that particular encounter, so his mood was terse.
“We won thanks to one fluke,” he said, pacing back and forth. Puma had never known him to pace before. “Our friend Erok accessed a portion of his abilities not easily accessible.”
“Yeah, I saw the report,” Puma had replied. “He exploded?”
“He pushed his abilities exponentially under great duress. They expanded into something he had no real control over. I believe we all have the ability to do this, to push our respective powers into such a zone. It’s hazardous, winds up knocking the user out cold, but it’s a volatile eruption of power in its most innate form. In Erok’s case, a massive fiery cataclysm.”
“And you think we can all do something similar.”
“Some of us already have,” continued Data. “DarthJ3sus used to erupt in training sessions. Celtic once obliterated the minds of every living organism in a four-block radius. Doom’s mass increased beyond physical logic and he fucking tsunami’d a town.”
“Is that even a word?”
“It is now. In any case, yes, this seems to indicate we can all do it. Hell, reports say Foolsfolly did it once, causing a massive clusterfuck of light refraction.”
“Hmm,” mused Puma. “Well, if Celtic pulled it off then we know at least it’s not limited to elemental powers.”
“Exactly,” said Data. “We started calling it the Fuck-All ability.”
Puma rolled his eyes. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Brodie came up with it. Blame him. Anyway, I want you to crack this. Go through our files, work out everyone who’s still alive on both sides. Find out how each person would manifest this ability. Find out if there’s any way we can consciously activate it. Study the old training tapes so you can see DarthJ3sus and Doom do it, see if there’s any physical triggers, anything like that. Find out if there’s a way to remain conscious through it. This won’t be easy, but it’s important.”
“You’re not giving me much to work with,” Puma pointed out. “Barely any information or living subjects.”
“If I could change that, I would,” said Data dismissively. “But I can’t. You’re a scientist, you prod and poke things to see how they react. You’ll have to do it without much info. If that bothers you, well, get a new profession.”
Thus Puma’s prime focus on Guardsmen turf became researching and analysing. He went agonisingly through every Guardsmen training tape, searching for more answers. DarthJ3sus seemed to have activated the ability the most frequently, a total of three times in training and twice in the field. Doom had activated it twice, one training and once in the field, and Celtic once. Beyond that he could find no record of anyone activating their ability, except of course the two Family members. Details on those instances were shaky at best, coming only from eyewitness accounts. At least Erok’s had been firsthand from the Leader; the only witnesses to Fools’s activation were satellite imaging. Puma stared at them blankly before resuming studying DarthJ3sus, who had the most complete set of records. A shame he was dead. Asking him how it felt was out of the question. The same for Doom, and Puma did not feel overtly inclined to talk to Celtic about anything at all, much less the time he had instantaneously mindwiped and murdered a large portion of a city’s population.
He tapped away at the computer and brought up a list of the Guardsmen and their abilities. Folding his hands, he peered over the top of them pensively.
• RAGINASIAN: metamorphosis (???)
• POWERBOMB [DECEASED]: proportionate increase of size and strength (???)
• CELTICPRED: mental inducement of pain (terminal brain hemmorhaging of everything in 4-block radius)
• ELITE MULLER: flight, increased strength (???)
• WHOISBRODIE: super speed (???)
• DRDOOM [DECEASED]: hydrokinesis (expand mass to form tsunami)
• SUPERGENIUS: radiation, physically incapable of sleep (???)
• DARTHJ3SUS [DECEASED]: electricity (lightning storm forming sphere, radiating from central core)
• MARKSMAN [DECEASED]: optic blasts, organic steel body (???)
• SPARTANPROTO: self-duplication (???)
• CAPDAC: elasticity (???)
• FINALFANT4SY: leech powers around him (???)
• MORELIKEPUMA: heightened agility and intellect (???)
Puma frowned. The list was far too incomplete, and it bothered him that of the three complete entries, two were appended with the [DECEASED] tag. He didn’t lament the loss of those two, far from it, but Puma was motivated by his own curiosity far more than Data’s. He kept all the dead Guardsmen on the list mainly because Doom and DarthJ3sus held information he needed, and he couldn’t justify in his head deleting some of the dead members but not all. In any case, hypothesising what some of the other dead Guardsmen could do would pass the time, if nothing else.
He also felt irritation at the fact that Data’s name wasn’t on the list, but Data had said explicitly he wasn’t to be included in Puma’s research project. Information denied Puma had always bothered him, and in the case of being ordered to do something, but restricted from a part of it by the same person was nothing short of infuriating. Still, Puma could do nothing. In any case, his displeasure over that was nothing compared to the final entry on the list.
• MORELIKEPUMA: heightened agility and intellect (???)
The three question marks gnawed at his mind. The data seemed to indicate that the Leader had been right; in the strictest sense, any of them should be able to access an exponential proportion of their power. How Puma’s could manifest was maddening, made more so by the fact that he couldn’t figure it out.
He tapped the keyboard and pulled up another list.
• JEDIPOET: telekinesis (???)
• EROKDRAGUN: pyrokinesis (flaming explosion of severe temperature)
• FOOLSFOLLY: invisibility (distortion of white light in expanding, concussive wave)
• SYRIX: healing factor (???)
• FILM GEEK: alterable bodily density (???)
• QWIRTLE [MIA]: sense, enhance and strip powers around him (???)
• BARAXIS: gravity manipulation (???)
• REN: transformation into any gaseous form (???)
• SHARPASATACK: transformation into sand (???)
• JONIXLORD [DECEASED]: telepathy (???)
• GRUNTHOS: communication with plant life (???)
• DRUMS: intangibility (???)
• PETE ZAHUT: teleportation (???)
• SPARTANPROTO: self-duplication (???)
• SPIDERWOLVE: transspatial portal generation (???)
• GDCHICK: superhuman balance and climbing ability (???)
• EAGLEMAN: optic blasts, flight (???)
This list was even worse than the previous one. More entries, less complete ones, and even harder to study by observation. It pained him that he had to leave the list of entrants incomplete, but he had been killed before Cabosefan had appeared on the scene, and in the aftermath of his re-awakening no one on either side had been predisposed to talk about him. Even Data himself was evasive on the topic, so Puma left him off the list completely and tried in vain to glean the others simply by reading their abilities.
This assignment was a complete puzzle, like studying a partial skeleton and trying to predict how the individual animal behaved. There was so much incomplete data, and conflicting reports. He remembered hearing about how Tack had once utilised all the sand on a riverside to create a giant form of himself to ward off attackers, but it had been made clear that he had retained consciousness after the process. Data had been clear that, in every instance of the ability being used, the user had been left unconscious. Every time. Had Tack mastered it in one fell swoop, or had he never accessed his ability to begin with?
Puma rubbed at his temples. This was damned confusing. He needed more coffee.
***
“You want me to what?”
“Fight. Come on. Don’t spare any expense on my account. I want you to push me.”
Brodie stared blankly at Puma. They were in a training ground of sorts, a wide concrete room roughly the size of a football field. Puma’s muscles were tense and his face was hardened. Brodie was utterly baffled.
“Since when do you fight?” he asked. “I thought you were just a smart guy.”
“My agility is enhanced too,” replied Puma. “I want you to throw what you’ve got at me. Make me work for it.”
Brodie slowly shrugged, still looking completely lost. “If you say so.”
Puma nodded. Brodie started at a light jog and ran around the outer edge of the room, picking up speed as he went. Puma breathed deeply and followed him as Brodie’s pace got faster, and after a few minutes he arced back inside and ran at Puma. Puma could tell Brodie was going at a slow pace, for him anyway, still faster than the fastest normal human, and casually vaulted him. Brodie slowed to a normal jog and looked at Puma curiously.
“You weren’t kidding.”
“Don’t soft out on me, Brodie,” said Puma tersely. “Hit me with your best shot.”
Brodie nodded, frowning with concentration, and he picked up speed again. He sprinted in a circle around the room and swung back inwards. Puma sidestepped, feeling the wind whip his coat around him. Instantly, Brodie was upon him again, and Puma managed to jump to the side. He jumped again. Brodie was beginning to get the idea.
“Come on!” yelled Puma, firing him up. “I know you can do faster than that! Stop trying to hit me and hit-”
Something hit him with the force of a small truck and he hit the ground. Dazed, he looked up and spotted Brodie slowing down, looking at him curiously. Hastily he dragged himself to his feet.
“Come on!” he shouted. “Again!”
Brodie came around at him again. Puma tried to sidestep and Brodie clipped him in the arm. Puma whirled on the spot and fell again, but sprang lithely to his feet. Brodie increased his pace and began running circles around Puma. Puma shook his head and leapt out of the miniature tornado, landing nimbly on the other side.
“None of that!” he said. “Treat me like an enemy! Don’t let up!”
As soon as the last word cleared his lips, Brodie came at him faster than the eye could see. Puma was knocked clean off his feet and flew across the room. Before he could hit the floor, Brodie slammed into him from below and he sprawled over the ground. He spat bitterly. Why wasn’t it working?
“Is that all you’ve got?” he roared furiously, springing back up.
Brodie seemed to come from every direction. He was moving so rapidly each blow seemed to land within half a second of each other, despite clearing half the room before coming back. Puma felt his body giving way, twisting this way and that with every blow. He gritted his teeth. Brodie was still holding back. He’d taken down a goddess, but Puma was still standing.
“STOP-WORRYING-ABOUT-KILLING-ME!” he bellowed between attacks.
Every nerve in his body ignited with pain as Brodie shot up to a speed beyond comprehension, landing several punches in the space of a second. Puma spun and twisted, held up only by the flurry of blows landing everywhere on his person. He heard something in his chest crack and he cried out.
All at once, the idiocy of what he was doing hit him like a ton of bricks, and suddenly he felt doubt bite into his brain. He was getting himself killed just for research. That wouldn’t have bothered him before, but he’d already died once, and the memory of the pain overwhelmed him. He cried out in terror.
Everything seemed to go quiet and the blows subsided. He bent over, panting with pain and exhaustion. He dropped to his hands and knees and sucked in air, trying to reinflate his lungs.
“Why’d...” he gasped. “Why’d you stop?”
There was no answer. The silence seemed deafening after the sound of thundering feet. Puma raised his head in confusion, wondering why Brodie had left the room, and gaped.
Brodie was still coming about, heading for another blow, but he seemed slow. Painfully slow. He was moving at an astonishing speed, and every step stirred up giant clouds of dust, but to Puma’s eyes he was as slow as a worm. Puma stared at him. Brodie hadn’t noticed any change.
Puma stood up and walked over to Brodie, waving a hand in front of his face. Brodie didn’t respond. He didn’t even see Puma. Puma hesitated for a second, and then stuck his foot out. Slowly, surely, Brodie’s ankle caught on Puma’s shoe and he began to tumble forward. Even in mid-air, he was moving in slow motion. Puma jumped gracefully through the air and landed with his back to Brodie’s passing body. He placed his hands behind himself, caught Brodie and spun him around, using Brodie’s own inertia, and standing him upright. Brodie slowly stumbled forward, then righted himself. That simple movement took him what felt to Puma like more than 30 seconds. Puma stared at his hands. Just as he raised them to cheer, his vision went dark and he collapsed on the spot.
***
He awoke in the medical bay. SuperGenius was standing over him with a clipboard, with Data standing right behind him. Both of them looked startled to see him awake. He struggled to sit up but felt a sharp pain in his chest, flopping back onto his bed.
“Easy,” said SuperGenius. “You’ve got five cracked ribs and just got out of an operation to reinflate a collapsed lung. Don’t exert yourself.”
“I’ve got this, Supes,” said Data. “Go back to the lab.”
SuperGenius shrugged and ambled towards the door. Data waited until he had closed it behind him before regarding Puma curiously.
“I’m guessing this has something to do with what I asked you to do,” he said inquisitively. When Puma nodded, he folded his arms. “Researching?”
“Experimenting,” replied Puma. “All of the situations we know of seem to indicate something life-threatening being a factor. I had Brodie beat me up to see if that would activate it.”
“And did it?” asked Data. Puma shook his head.
“No,” he said. “I can try again when I’m on my feet.”
Data shook his head. “Run the experiment, but don’t make yourself the subject. I want you running around the clock on this. Keep going unless I say otherwise. When you were with the Rogues, Ren told me you barely slept, you just kept working. Do that now until you crack this. In the meantime, I’ll have Dac, Brodie and Spartan beat the hell out of each other for your amusement, how does that sound?”
Puma opened his mouth to protest, but thought better of it and closed it again. He lay in the bed, staring at the ceiling for a moment.
“What did Brodie say?” he asked.
“That you knocked yourself out jumping away from an attack,” replied Data. “SuperGenius thinks you left it too late and jumped with too many injuries. The exertion knocked you out mid-jump and you hit the deck.”
“I see,” said Puma, hiding a sigh of relief. He watched the ceiling tiles again, pondering the events in the training room. Data looked sidelong at him, as though hesitant to ask something. Instead he turned and walked towards the door.
“I’ll have someone move you up to your quarters,” said Data. “You can work in bed. Compile your data. Call when you have something.”
True to his word, some of the doctors moved Puma up to his room and set his computer within reaching distance so he didn’t have to strain. Puma was relieved to be out of the medical bay so quickly, and even more to get his hands on the keyboard again. Rapidly, he typed up information from the experience, and made a second copy, which he uploaded to the database. The first he encrypted and then altered to reflect what had actually happened, describing what he’d seen after he’d felt the stab of fear.
Puma smiled. He doubted he’d cracked the secret, in terms of how to control it, but he was getting closer. A strong emotional charge combined with physical damage had triggered his ability. Gleefully, he updated his own file.
• MORELIKEPUMA: heightened agility and intellect (instantaneous processing, comprehension and reaction to perceptions)
The fastest man in the world had seemed like barely more than a statue, and he had pulled off acrobatic feats he could never have attempted before. He smiled with delight as he typed up what had happened, placing it under the file name “NEO” so as not to arouse suspicion, and placing the highest security around it he could create. It was a ghost file, an absence of information in the system only he could see and recall. Not even Data would be able to find it, he was sure of that. Going through his other encrypted files, Puma attached all the information to something that had started life as an email system before Puma had gotten to it; now it was his private, hidden transmitter. He smiled and hit send.
Half a country away, the Puma-bot beeped at the incoming transmission.
***
The Puma-bot emerged into the mess hall, where Poet, Geek and Tack sat idly. They looked up as the robot approached and stood beside their table. Poet froze with a spoon of ice cream halfway to his mouth.
“Hey, Puma,” he said, lowering the spoon. “Haven’t seen you in here for all of ever.”
“Hello,” said the Puma-bot. “How is your new arm?”
Poet reflexively stretched his new synthetic arm out. It wasn’t long ago that FinalFant4sy had ripped Poet’s arm off, and the new one Puma had built for him still felt a bit strange.
“It’s fine,” said Poet. “Tingles a bit when I make a fist, but fine. What’s up?”
“I have information for you,” said the robot flatly. “Some research has come to light, relevant to all of you.”
“Research? About us?” echoed Tack. “Who’s researching us?”
“Many people,” said the Puma-bot. “Superhumans are currently the deciding factor in world politics, and between us, the Outcasts and the Guardsmen, America houses the largest and, indeed, possibly only population of surviving superhumans. Lots of people are researching us, but only those with firsthand capabilities have made such progressive steps.”
“People such as...” Geek led him pointedly.
“The researchers on base here, Dr Lionel, a few other scientists across the globe, and the Guardsmen science officers. All of them study superhumans, and one of those sources has made a breakthrough regarding the biological capabilities of our particular group.”
The others all spoke at once.
“I don’t like where this is going...” said Tack warily.
“What source?” asked Geek.
“What breakthrough?” demanded Poet.
Puma-bot turned to Poet and answered him; he had long since begun responding to Poet, as the leader, before any of the others. “Recently Erok was observed pushing the limits of his ability, in the fight with FinalFant4sy.”
Poet nodded. “Yeah, Data said something about that. He called it the Fuck-All Ability.”
“That matches the name given in the file,” said the Puma-bot informally. “The observation has resurrected further study of this ability; there is the belief that it can manifest in any of us, Family or Guardsman, from our group. So far seven are confirmed to have accessed it – Erok, FoolsFolly, DarthJ3sus, Celticpred, DrDoom and my predecessor. The files contain all the research that has proceeded thus far, and the source is on the way to uncovering the process.”
“Which source?” asked Geek again. “Where are you getting this info?”
“An unidentified source within the Leader’s ranks,” replied the Puma-bot. “The files are encrypted and unsigned, broadcast discreetly. I have assumed that, as I picked up the transmission, they are being sent to other dissidents.”
The three seated Family members looked at each other uneasily. Tack was the first to speak. “Does this scream ‘trap’ to anyone else?”
“It doesn’t sit well with me,” admitted Geek. “But what the hell are files going to do to harm us?”
“Maybe there’s a virus,” supposed Tack. “Something could have piggybacked its way into his hard drive.”
“Not through his firewall,” said Geek. “Nothing could get through that, right?”
“There was nothing attached,” confirmed the Puma-bot. “And if there were, I would have detected and eliminated it. My internal security is absolute.”
Poet rested his chin on his hands and thought it over. The others sat patiently and waited for a full minutes before his eyes flicked back up to the Puma-bot piercingly. His mouth curved into a cautious smile. “You think we can all do it?”
“Yes,” replied the robot.
“Then let’s get to work.”
***
The Puma-bot walked around the simulator room, looking around calmly, detached from the action and mayhem. The Family had paired off and were endeavouring to push each other to the limits he had described. Unfortunately this was proving easier said than done, and matters were not helped by the fact that the robot’s understanding of full emotive and empathic capabilities was still limited, and led to rather confusing descriptions. The Family had dutifully split off, but some of them still didn’t fully understand what the hell he was talking about. Ren had even made the obligatory crack about the confusing verbiage being just like the old Puma. All of this amounted to white noise for the Puma-bot, who had been met with a chorus of “yes” when he asked a fourth time if everyone understood, and either ignored or didn’t notice the varying inflections.
For the past week the Family had been wrestling with each other, but aside from Erok and Fools, who had experienced the ability, and Poet, who had witnessed Erok do it, really knew what the end goal was; the memory of Fools pulling it off had faded into the haziness of battles gone past for most of them. As a result, the Puma-bot was privy to odd sights like Tack trapping Syrix’s head inside his oversized fist while the other man waved his arms pathetically. This went on for days, until finally someone did accomplish it.
Most of the Family had dropped out after another fruitless group attempt and were watching from the control centre; only Poet, Geek, Grunty and Fools remained in the simulator, and they were all fighting fatigue more than each other. The Puma-bot oversaw them faithfully, and was watching Poet pin Geek down with rubble when he heard a high-pitched scream from the other side of the room. Looking over he saw Grunty on the ground, already bruised and bloody from Fools’s assault, but evidently unmindful of all of that. He was howling in agony, his hands clamped firmly on his head, blood pouring from his mouth as he cried. Fools was standing nearby, holding something in his hands and looking guilty. As the Puma-bot peered closer he recognised what it was: a doppelganger for Grunty’s old rose, Carolyn. The head of the rose had been ripped off and the stem was hanging limply from Fools’s other hand. Fools looked over and shrugged. The Puma-bot pointed up to the sky, the Family’s mutual signal for ‘get him out of here’, and Fools nodded, tossing the false rose away and laying a hand roughly on Grunty’s shoulder.
In that instant Grunty swatted Fools’s hand away, his face a mask of cracked rage, and the whole room began to shake. Poet and Geek dropped their boulders and looked over in confusion when gargantuan roots began to burst through the floor and walls of the simulator room. The holograms and projections faded, leaving the giant, cavernous room bare but for the four of them. To their amazement, the roots continued punching their way through the walls and the floor, and even a couple through the far end of the roof. Dirt began to rain everywhere as Grunty bellowed with rage, and tree roots the size of cars continued punching their way into the room, all of them coming straight for Fools.
He gave a cry of shock and turned invisible. The Puma-bot saw him in infrared dart away from the roots, but the roots followed anyway. Fools gasped as one swung upwards and knocked him off his feet. He rolled across the ground and lay there, unmoving.
Even as the Puma-bot watched, Grunty swayed unsteadily and fell to the ground himself. As he did, the tree roots began to grow limp and sluggish, slowing down and getting clumsy. In the time it took Poet, who had fallen over in the tremors, to draw a breath, the roots all stopped moving. For a while neither Poet nor Geek nor the Puma-bot spoke. In the dead of silence, there was only their laboured breathing as they beheld the scene around them. Geek scratched his head.
“Jessibelle’s going to go nuts,” he said.
***
The Puma-bot catalogued his notes in his darkened room in Miami. He was viewing reports of crime in the area, as Erok had requested; the split of Erok’s team from the rest of the Family was still settling in, and the Miami team were all still adjusting, but the Puma-bot had handled the move rather well. The setting change barely affected him; the behaviour of the people moving in front of the setting was his main concern, and he found his role in Miami more satisfying than performing odd duties in the Outcast base, at least inasmuch as he could feel satisfaction.
In between his tasks, however, he kept returning to one file that had some intrigue to him. The file on the Fuck-All Ability, as everyone had come to call it, was still incomplete. Occasionally scatterings of information were transmitted to him, but nothing he could significantly call a breakthrough. Since Grunty had performed the ordeal, no one else had. The devastation wrought to the simulator room was so extensive, the Outcasts refused to allow the Family to actively try and crack the ability, and the Puma-bot’s research was aborted. But still he pondered it, and he knew he wasn’t the only one.
He had sat with Geek at the dinner table one night, after all the others had gone to bed, and in between mouthfuls of food Geek brought the subject back up.
“Nothing further?” he asked conversationally.
“No,” replied the Puma-bot. “Nothing. Have you looked further into your ability?”
“I don’t know if I really want to,” admitted Geek. “We didn’t know what Grunty could do, and it nearly wiped out the whole mountain. If any of the plants he’d summoned had tunnelled into the other rooms there probably would have been people killed. I can’t even think what my ability would be, so I don’t know if it would be dangerous to you guys if we tried it here.”
“Good point,” said the Puma-bot. “The damage from the plants was extensive. I believe he managed to send out a mental call that brought every plant in a spherical five-mile radius together. That level of power is unprecedented. None of the Old Guard could do anything so powerful.”
“But the Old Guard didn’t knock themselves out using their powers,” pointed out Geek. “What’s the deal with that? A fatigue thing?”
“Possibly,” said the Puma-bot. “I don’t know. I need to study it in further detail. Fatigue seems the likeliest explanation at this point, but I want to examine another case.”
Geek arched an eyebrow. “‘Want’?” he echoed. “You ‘want’ to? Puma, since you came back as a robot you haven’t wanted anything, except maybe a change of batteries.”
“I feel a compulsion,” said the Puma-bot. “Something I have not felt since I returned my predecessor to a state of existence. I am compelled to do this task, by something in my programming. The closest word in English I can think of is ‘desire’.”
“What?” said Geek. “Programming isn’t a desire, that’s something you have to do. No offense or anything, dude, but you’re a computer, and computers do what they’re programmed to do.”
“Not always,” shot back the Puma-bot, startling Geek with something resembling actual inflection in his voice. “I have disobeyed my programming before.”
“Oh, really?” asked Geek sceptically. “When?”
“Some time ago,” said the Puma-bot. “I do not like to talk about that time. It got someone killed.”
Geek blinked and mouthed the word ‘like?’ Puma did not give any sign that he had noticed and looked out the window. Geek did not pursue the issue and returned to his food. They sat in silence for a minute before he set down his spoon looked up again.
“You’ll probably get your chance for more research soon,” he noted. “Tack and Spartan are still trying when they think Erok’s not looking.”
“They’re training?” asked the Puma-bot.
Geek shook his head. “No. In the field. When we get into some really dangerous situations, they try it then. GD wants to stop them, but Erok and Fools say let ‘em do it. Erok thinks they’ll learn not to do it if they ever pull it off.”
The Puma-bot looked at him. His sleek face betrayed no emotion, but Geek could feel the tinge of curiosity emanating from the machine in front of him. The Puma-bot’s mind was alight with possibilities, and Geek cocked his head as the robotic hand fidgeted.
“Do you...” he began. “I mean...can I ask you a question?”
“Yes.”
Geek hesitated. He tried and failed to think of a way to word it without sounding awkward. “Do you ever...you know, think you might be so compelled to work out all of ours because you can’t do yours?”
The Puma-bot sat and stared at him silently for a moment. “I don’t understand.”
Geek pushed his bowl away and took a deep breath. “These abilities, whatever they are...genetic, endowed, magical, whatever the hell...you’re the only one of us who doesn’t have his any more. Not in this robot body you have. I’ve just heard you use the word ‘want’ for the first time in reference to yourself, is it because you’re the only one who can’t find your own ability? Are you trying to make up for it, in some weird robot ethics way?”
The Puma-bot thought hard, but eventually shook his head in an uncannily human gesture, so uncanny Geek felt a slight shiver.
“I do not believe so,” he said. “I have accepted I can never feel the agility of my predecessor, but his intelligence is mine now. That is enough for me, at least in human terms. I do not feel desire to use an ability myself. My predecessor has accomplished it, but he...is not me. We came from one mind, but now we are two.”
Geek nodded slowly and stared hard at the Puma-bot, who soon stood up and walked away without another word. Geek remained at the table for a long time afterwards.
***
Weeks passed in Miami. The team met with several challenges and ordeals and still managed to hang on, establishing themselves as a presence in the city. They were not a publically-lauded group, but they had an uneasy footing with the police. Erok, Fools, Geek, GDChick, Tack and Spartan had become known to them, but behind the scenes the Puma-bot worked faithfully, a hidden ace in the hole, and performed his duties tirelessly. For a long time, the ability he had worked so hard to cultivate was a forgotten topic. No one brought it up.
Hidden in his room one evening, the door flung open unexpectedly and he looked over calmly. He was in the middle of collating files when Erok and Fools walked into the room, carrying a groggy Tack between them. Tack was gurgling something incoherent, and the other two were muttering in irritation. The Puma-bot noted they both were bleeding from gashes all over, and their clothes had similar cuts everywhere, as though they had both escaped from a giant paper shredder. They hefted Tack onto a bench on the side and stood there, panting. The Puma-bot carried over some cloth and bandages, which they gratefully accepted and began to clean themselves off.
“What happened?” asked the Puma-bot.
“This idiot triggered his Fuck-All ability,” snapped Erok, rubbing a lump on his head. “We were caught up with some gangsters down by the docks. Geek and I were out cold, caught by surprise, Fools was taking care of their guards, and GD, Spartan and Tack were all caught. Spartan and Tack both got kneecapped and one of them said something to GD, something nasty, and Tack apparently just lost it. That’s how Spartan tells it, anyway. Tack’s out cold and GD’s too exhausted from running the hell away from whatever Tack conjured to speak.”
“How did it manifest?” asked the Puma-bot, examining Tack’s twitching form.
“Tornado,” said Fools. “It hit just as I came around the corner. His body just spiralled up into the air and became a giant sandstorm. Cut the drug-runners almost to pieces, they’re all in the ICU. I got hit with a bit when I ducked back around the corner, Spartan managed to drag Geek and Erok into the water until Tack subsided.”
“Interesting,” said the Puma-bot. Erok looked incredulous.
“Interesting?” he spat. “He couldn’t have picked a worse time or place. He could have killed all of us.”
“We knew that after Grunty’s episode,” said the Puma-bot, still bent over Tack. “Geekers informed me you have done nothing to discourage either Tack or Spartan in the hopes something just like this would happen, so that would convince them not to do it again.”
All anger left Erok’s face; he and Fools looked at each other in bafflement.
“Are you...are you reprimanding me?” he asked.
“No. I am stating a fact as I understand it. Am I incorrect?”
“Well...you...I...” Erok trailed off, then looked down. “I guess not.”
“I wonder how he triggered it,” said the Puma-bot, more to himself than the others. Talking out loud to himself was a habit he had developed recently, and he was not aware how much it unnerved the others. “The common link seems to be a crippling physical detriment occurring simultaneously with a strong, primal emotion of some kind, unless I miss my guess. Fools and my predecessor felt a surge of fear, Erok and Grunty felt a tumultuous anger. What was Tack’s charge? Excuse me, I need to examine him.”
Erok and Fools looked at each other again, and Fools nodded heavily before sitting down, groaning in pain. Erok heaved himself up onto the bench and looked down at the robot.
“Alright, Puma, listen,” he said. “We need to talk about this research. Fools and I discussed it on the way down here. We don’t think it’s such a good idea to continue with looking into this ability. Between Grunty and Tack, it always seems to end with disaster.”
“Trust us on this,” added Fools. “We’ve done it, and it ain’t fun.”
The Puma-bot looked back and forth between them several times. “I am confused,” he said. “You do not wish to understand how to access such a phenomenal boost of your powers? I am aware that the circumstances do not often warrant it, but isn’t having the option comforting?”
“What’s comforting is knowing Spartan’s not going to spawn a million man march in the kitchen because he doesn’t know how,” said Fools. “This one might be better left untouched.”
“I am not encouraging you to use the ability,” the Puma-bot assured him. “Just to understand how it works, so that when the time comes, you can use it if you need to.”
“We’ve done well enough without it,” said Erok.
“Really?” asked the Puma-bot. “And yet when Tack utilised it tonight, he saved you all from your antagonists.”
“He nearly killed us!” protested Erok.
“You were subdued by the men you were following, do not take your anger out on Tack,” said the Puma-bot emotionlessly. “His use of the ability was what turned the tables, much as it was when you used yours on FinalFant4sy, or when Fools stopped the military from attacking all of you. With the exception of Grunty, every time one of us has utilised the ability it has saved some or all of us. You would discredit this because it is dangerous, when your line of work is to go out looking for murderers and drug dealers?”
Erok’s jaw dropped. Fools looked torn between shock and fits of laughter. Erok struggled to regain his composure and glared accusingly at Puma. “Are you sure you’re a cold, emotionless robot in there?” he demanded. “That sounds way more argumentative than you used to be.”
The Puma-bot turned back to Tack and began prodding and poking him, his usual sign that he wanted to focus solely on the task at hand. Tack moaned and flopped limply onto his side.
“I am stating facts again,” said the Puma-bot. “I do not know how to explain it. I feel compelled to. ”
Erok raised his eyebrows. The Puma-bot did not notice, still examining the semi-conscious Tack as he rolled around on the bench. Fools shrugged and stood up, walking towards the door. Erok looked down at the Puma-bot calculatingly, but instead of saying more he shook his head and followed Fools out the door. The Puma-bot gave no sign that he had noticed, but as Erok closed the door, he heard something that sounded suspiciously like a metallic chuckle.
10/15/2011 6:51:16 AM
Comment on this fan fiction!
|
|
|
