jakec


 * My name is Butler. Long ago, I was the bodyguard for a girl. My duty was to protect her, no matter the costs. She was eight years old at the time, but her intelligence surpassed that of even the most evil scientific geniuses. After a year of research, she found a device. This device brought us a lot of misfortune, but it was worth it in the end. With its power, we have been able to restore balance to this planet. We have vanquished the corrupt government, dealt with poverty, and created peace and prosperity allover the land. This is the story of the blue orb.**

My senses went dull, and the world went dark as my vision only returned specs of gray on a black canvas. How had I screwed up so badly? I was a man known for precision, for knowing the outcome and repercussion of every decision. Where was this man?

Slowly, reality set in. My old self came back, and the engines in my brain started to rev up again. It was time for situational analysis; time to quickly run through "The Checklist." "Okay," I thought to myself, "Number one: subject's safety. Response: in danger. Number two: location of subject. Response: under a few hundred pounds of rubble." I had to figure out what to do. I had to take action.

Quickly, I pushed up with all of my force. The boulder above me didn't budge; it didn't move a bit. I tried a different approach, kicking outward at a 45 degree angle rightward. Success! A small piece of the boulder broke off, and a stream of light suddenly shined through. The rest of the task became much easier, as the light allowed me to more strategically rid the stone from my vicinity.

The rock was gone, but my subject was unconscious. There wasn't a hospital for miles, and, according to my speculation, Ann only had about 20 minutes till the incident would result in permanent damage to her cerebral cortex. Speech would still be possible, her genius would still shine through, but her Zen-like thought would be restricted; the extraordinarily deep thought, through meditation, that Ann could usually reach would be near impossible if her condition went uncured. While all of this was the case, it just so happened that we were close to the mansion, extremely close. Furthermore, inside the mansion lay the stolen time machine, which Ann had just intersected from a transportation shuttle a week or so ago. Spending so much time around Ann helped me develop my ability to mentally construct ingenious solutions under tremendous pressure. Thus, I quickly decided that, somehow, I would suspend Ann, in time, within the time machine, until I could get her to Uncle.

The girl was light like a feather. I sometimes wondered how such an immensely large brain could fit in such a small, brittle child. We made our way up the stairs, and, as I gazed over my stopwatch, I realized nearly 14 of the 20 minutes had elapsed. The time machine would take a few minutes to start up, so time was literally of the essence. With just a minute to spare, we finally made it to the hidden room; the room lay just past a secret rotating bookshelf, which was cliché, I admit, but it worked.

The machine’s user interface panel welcomed me by name. “Hello, Butler,” it said in a dull, monotone sounding voice. Ignoring it, I stuck Ann in the cage, closed the door, and pressed the large red button. “Time period,” the machine asked. “Still,” I replied; one of the preset settings that would literally freeze time within the cage, perfect for getting out of time-sensitive situations.

The trip to Uncle’s would be long and treacherous. The man was a former convict, prosecuted for scheming against the corrupt government. He had escaped and was fairly high up on the most wanted list. His dwelling, like his personality, was guarded and overly cautious. The man had somehow figured out how to live under the sea, and his home didn’t at all lack any of the conveniences that we land-dwellers had taken advantage of here above-ground: he had electricity, food, and even a gymnasium.

We arrived at the grass patch. You could tell it apart because while most grass here pointed north, in one tiny spot, almost 8x8 feet in area, the grass pointed west. To the human eye, it was impossible to see, but to a specially designed sensor whose only task was to locate this plot of land, the process was mundane. I lifted the machine, with the girl inside, out of my car, and carefully made my way through the shrubbery to the entrance of Uncle’s underwater fortress, the 8x8 plot of land. With the sole of my right foot, I delicately drew an 8. The sensors underneath the earth traced the motion, identified the code, and lowered the 8x8 foot spot almost two stories below the surface. A door came in view, and, with the machine by my side, I opened the door.

Uncle looked well. His beard, formerly a proud brown, now appeared aged and grey. His face, formerly smooth and handsome, now appeared wrinkled and old. But one thing, his humor, still remained. “How’s it going you rugged-faced cow,” the old man said. “Actually, not very well,” I replied. With that, I lay the machine on the floor, opened it, and lifted up the lifeless human from within it.

Uncle’s face went blank. His joyful banter instantaneously transformed into a cold gaze. “Ma, my stepchild!” he exclaimed, “What on earth, what… Is she okay?” “She’s okay for now,” I replied, “but if you don’t do something quick she’ll sustain permanent damage.” “Get my tools Butler and meet me in the surgical room,” the now frantic man said. My actions replaced any reply I would have made.

The room was dark, and, quite frankly, scary looking. That was saying a lot, considering my occupation. Uncle told me to sit outside. The doctor knew his stuff, so I obliged unconditionally. Minutes turned into hours. I was not completely unfamiliar with the process. I knew that the girl's mind would be frozen with a chemical mixture the doctor had concocted early in his career. Damage to the brain tissue, due to a lack of oxygen, could be prevented in this way, and it would simplify greatly the rest of the procedure. From my prior observation, I reckoned that she had broken the majority of the bones in her body, with her skin having undergone at least 3rd degree burns. But regardless of my subject's state, she would be just fine under the care and treatment of "Uncle." For a doctor of his caliber, the procedure would literally be a piece of cake. As I sat outside, with the busy sound of tools at work, my eye lids began to close. The day was catching up with me, and, within moments, I was asleep.

I was greeted with a bucket of cold water. Slowly, I began to restore consciousness. The figure before me was crying, his face flushed with red. Alarmed, I jumped up. There could only be one explanation for the doctor’s expression: something must have happened to Ann. Nudging Uncle out of the way, I stormed through the doors into the surgical room. What I saw put to rest my fears but equally pissed me off. If only he’d known what I’d been through, he’d think twice before playing a practical joke; when it came down to it, it just wasn’t funny. But I remembered that the only thing the lonely man had to hold on to was his humor, so I let him keep it.

The girl sat silently on one edge of the surgical bed, meditating. Without opening an eye, she proclaimed, “Hello my friend.” “Ann, how glad I am to see you alive and well,” I said back. “Thank you,” she whispered as I joined her on the furniture. “Don’t,” I responded. As the two of as sat, time seemed to pass by unperturbed. It was another hour till either one of us spoke again.

The ride back was filled with electric discussion. Without any pressing issues, I could refocus my energy towards the explosion and the events leading up to it. Each of my comments was divulged, processed, and responded to by Ann. We re-winded to the beginning.

Ann had spent the better part of her 8th year on this planet researching the blue orb. The Mayans had cherished it. In their texts, they claimed it was gift from god. Based on her observations of the Mayan accounts, she concluded that it dispelled infinite amounts of blue energy. How this blue energy worked, Ann did not know. What she did know, however, was that it could be produced in seemingly infinite quantities and it could very well be a replacement for the human races dependence on natural gas, an energy substitute if you will. There were big bucks on the line, but of course, being Ann, money was not the first thing on her mind. Her focus always remained on ridding the world of hunger and starvation. She intended to do this, apparently, with the mystical powers of the blue orb.

Becker Reddens was a highly regarded treasure hunter. While Ann knew the approximate location of the orb, in that she knew it was on Renion Island, the one thing she could not do was locate it; she simply didn’t have the equipment or expertise. Thus, she hired Becker. Ann had told me prior to the incident that she had had her reserves about him. After all, Becker was a man who worked on commission, and there wasn’t much that was going to keep him from attempting to double-cross the two once he knew exactly what it is that he was helping them find. So the plan was simply to keep him from finding out exactly what they were hunting for. At the very least, they would downplay the item so as to make the cash payday seem more appetizing then stealing the orb. There was definitely risk associated with the plan, but there really wasn’t much of an option. According to one of the stone tablets she had read, the Orb only appeared during the Rainy season, and the season was almost over. In addition, Becker was the only treasure hunter currently on the same island as Ann and me. Time was running out, and there wasn’t a single treasure hunter who wasn’t greedy; that’s what they got in the profession for in the first place. Ann would just have to take her chances.

I remember feeling like things where out of whack. My stomach went weak, and I felt dizzy. There was something about Becker that was off. He had met us at the docking station, with his observer vessel just ahead, and I noticed something strange. Off on the ship, I spotted 2 shadowy figures swiftly moving about. I turned my head to tell Ann, but I when I looked back the figures were gone. Feeling uncomfortable, I asked Becker if I could search his ship. “Standard procedure,” I said. Confidently, he replied, “Look all you want. I’ve got nothing to hide. My ship is your ship!” I nodded. “But only for this trip, then I want her back,” he exclaimed, grinning. I wasn’t assured. When I searched the ship, I found nothing. “Satisfied,” Becker said. Again, I nodded, still unsure. Right then and there, I should have told Ann that this was a very bad idea. That was my one chance to step in. Instead, once the boat company had readied the boat, Ann and I boarded Becker’s vessel.

A few hours later, we landed on Renion Island. Except for a few animals, the place was deserted. The island had an eerie atmosphere, partly because the indigenous had moved away. They were no longer able to deal with the destructive creatures on the island. Ann and I removed the laser guns from our backpack and pressed the power buttons. Becker too grabbed a laser gun from his weapons chest, which seemed oddly full, and proceeded to lead the way of our small three-person group. Ann described what the area around the orb what look like, and Becker typed busily into his navigational system. I walked, gun in hand, behind the pair. Just like Vietnam, I thought to myself, just like those good old days back in the army. Suddenly, the leaves behind us started to rustle. Before I could turn around, everything went white. There was a large explosion, covering us from head to toe in rubble. My earlobes were throbbing, but I heard I voice from the surface. “Thanks Ann,” Becker said, “you led me right to it.” And with that, I was out.

It was clear that there were likely three people, if not more, involved. The question was now not so much how Becker had infiltrated Ann and I, but instead how he had learned of the Orb. Let’s just that he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. He must have gotten help, and it must have been one of those accomplishes. However, Ann had done a fair amount of research, and the documents she studied were not public property. We’d invaded tombs to find some of the material, the most sensitive of the batch. In fact, the one tablet, which had discussed the Orb’s abilities, was one only Ann had laid eyes on. Therefore we concluded that while Becker and his accomplices quite obviously knew of the Orb’s value, they did not know what it did or how to activate. Essentially, they would eventually figure out that they would actually need us to unlock it’s true potential. This meant one thing: they would come to us. We needed to shift our focus to defensive tasks. “How are we going to get the Orb, Ann?” I said. The girl didn’t respond. Instead, she closed her eyes and meditated.

When we arrived at the Mansion, Charles, the house dog, welcomed me with a sloppy wet lick before running over to Ann and toppling her over. After the short embrace, she led Charles by the collar to the great observatory. This was her strategy room, per se; a perfect place for the formulation and planning of strategy. Meanwhile, I went directly to the kitchen to brew myself a luxurious cup of Kopi Luwak coffee, with one sugar and a pinch of cinnamon – I needed it badly. Just as I was about take my first sip, Ann rushed in, “I’ve figured it out. I know how we can get back the orb. All we have to do is… Wait. What are you drinking? Is that Kopi Luwak?” “Yeah,” I replied, “What’s it to you?” The know-it-all continued, “You do know how the beans are processed, right? They’re taken from the feces of civets. Basically, what you’re eating was made in the digestive tract of a cat.” I was taken aback for a moment, “Listen, all I know is that they’re expensive, and this is the best damn coffee I ever had. So give me a brake, will ya’?” “Whatever,” she replied. While the girl was smarter than PhD holders four to five times her age, she still had the maturity level of an eight year old. “Anyway,” she said, “I’ve formed an ingenious plan.” “Go on,” I said, taking another sip – when Ann talked, you listened. “We’re going to use their tactic against them. We needed them, and so we came to them, with their location and their rules. They had us meet them on their boat, meaning they had the advantage. From there, they proceeded to rush in on us when we least expected it. We were outnumbered and unprepared. This time, we won’t be. Obviously, they’re going to invade the mansion, thinking and you and I are going to be home alone. Also, they’ll believe that they have the element of surprise on their side. How wrong they will be! Butler, we’re going to setup a defensive comparable to that of a fortress, but not in the traditional sense. We’re going to have them believe, as they will believe, that they’re in charge of things. They’ll think we’re at their mercy. Then, when they’re weak and vulnerable, we’ll strike.” “That’s great Ann,” I said, “But how are we going to get the Orb.” Quickly, without hesitation, she stated, “They’ll bring it to us!”

Irritated that the plan hadn’t been more elaborate, I plainly stated, “Not to burst your bubble or anything, Ann, but I doubt that they’re just going to waltz in here carrying the damn Orb with them!” “They will if they believe that I can only unlock the it with the resources in my laboratory,” she replied coolly.” “Yeah, but we can’t contact them in advance and tell them that. Remember? They’re supposed to think we’re not expecting them,” I said. “Valid point, Butler. Valid point. But you forget one thing,” she said. “And what’s that, I asked, thoroughly intrigued. It took her a few moments to contain her before muttering, “The self-destruction sequence.” In an instant, it all came back to me. That late night up in the observatory where Ann had drilled me on all things Orb, and I somehow seemed to forget one of the most important items on the list: the self-destruction sequence. With a Machiavellian grin spreading across my face, I nodded.

The way the self-destruction sequence worked was simple. The device had a timer. Once removed from its resting place, the timer would activate. If not unlocked in time, the Orb would internally detonate, leaving only a shell. The functionality, the power, of the Orb would be lost forever leaving only a relic behind. While this gave us a strategic advantage, it also was extremely dangerous, and, furthermore, risky. Becker and his goons would certainly realize that they couldn’t unlock it, but they wouldn’t be aware of self-detonation sequence. Basically, if they didn’t bring it with them or if they couldn’t retrieve it in time, all of Ann’s work for the past year would have been useless. This was the only flaw in our plan. It was a flaw that would later come to haunt us, if not addressed.

Preparations had to be made. We had to figure out how we were going to trap them inside the mansion, how we were going to tip the balance in our favor. The first task on the agenda was sheer manpower. I could easily handle the three, but they would surely employ more if they know they were invading “The” Oak Mansion. This time, however, I made sure I was prepared. I kept on reminding myself that there was no longer any room for error. I called up my friends from the Guard Training Camp. I got them on a 5-way call. “Fellas’,” I said, “We’ve got a little situation here at Mi Casa. How’d you all like to do me a favor, paid of course.” These guys, just like me, were top of the line soldiers. We once went back in time to fight in Vietnam just for laughs. They only worked on commission, even for their friend Butler, but their assistance was worth it. The four of them could easily take out a small army. Against these top-level black-ops body guards, Becker and his goons wouldn’t know what hit them. The real trick was to make us seem vulnerable. Once Becker got here, the idea was to make it look like we were caught off guard. They would likely try to sneak in through the windows or air conditioning duct, all of which were usually secured and protected, but which we would specially make sure weren’t at the time of their arrival. Then, once they thought they had everything control, Butler’s friends would swiftly knock them out. From there, we’d take back the Orb and call the cops, accusing the invaders of every penalty in the book of law: from robbery to attempted murder. We’d probably wipe their memories as well, just in case.

As time went on, I got more and more uneasy. I kept thinking about the flaw. Last time I had felt unsure about something, I decided to go through with it anyway. That flaw was the one thing that got us into this mess, and I was damned if I was going to let that happen again. Finally, I couldn’t stand it. Ann was aware of the flaw, yet she remained calm and collected. I walked right up to her and asked what the hell she had planned, “Ann, I just have to ask. What are we going to if they don’t bring the Orb. Honestly, it’s almost a certainty that they won’t. It seems like the most likely favorable scenario is that they can retrieve it in time. Wherever they hide it, it’s probably not going to be anywhere near here.” Ann just smiled. “Don’t worry about it Butler, I have it all under control.” At least this time she was aware of the problem, I thought to myself. At least this time, the girl would be on top of the problem. Secretly, inside, I was really happy that if anything went wrong this time it wouldn’t be my fault; it would the girl’s. On the other hand, I really wanted everything to go according to plan. I really wanted to redeem myself and help wherever I could. With everything setup around the house, and with the bodyguards aware of our situation, the only thing left to do was wait. Ann had hired a spy to notify us the instant anything approached the mansion. Once again, the day was catching up with us, apparently Ann more than me, and we each headed off to our respective beds with phones stationed right to next to us. We were ready.

It was the middle of the night when the phone rang; we had given the spy a special number and if the phone rang, there was movement. Ann had set the volume to extra high, and the sound had interrupted my rather lovely dream: me, sitting on the back deck of a house, overlooking the ocean, eating two giant lobster rolls. Becker of course, being a treasure hunter, was not one to wait till the morning for urgent matters. Apparently, he had found out fairly early of the useless state the device was in and decided to pay us a little visit. Ann was taken aback, slightly. She believed we had at least another day or so until he’d of figured it out, but she had taken all the necessary steps just in case. My buddies would be wide awake at this hour. I then wondered, what hour is it, exactly? I looked over to where my watch would have been, had it still been daytime, before asking Ann, “What time is it?” She walked over to the digital clock, pressed the large blue button on the top that raised the brightness of the screen, and then replied, “1:46” “Damn,” I said, “does Becker have any manners.” Ann didn’t laugh. Instead, she said, “Call your friends, Butler. It’s go time.” And so I did. “Two minutes,” they said. I ran over to the Central Room, and carefully observed the monitors. Just as Ann had predicted, they parked in the forest and were attempting to get in the house through the heating system vents. If I wanted to, I could turn on the system, raise the heat level, and kill them instantly. Of course, I’d also damage the Orb. “Bad idea,” I muttered to myself, “very bad idea.” The vents led out into the grand foyer, which was perpendicular to the kitchen, where Ann and I would be drinking tea. That was the plan at least, but at the moment I was still in the Central Room. I quickly rushed out toward the kitchen to meet Ann. When I got there, a cup of tea was waiting for me. “First time that girl has ever made me anything to drink,” I thought to myself, chuckling quietly. And with everything in place, I sat down for a moment and rested, taking a sip of the lovely Earl Grey Tea. My phone buzzed momentarily, indicating that my buddies were in place. And with that, 12 men in black suits walked in.

“Hello Ann,” said one of the men, Becker for sure. Pretending to be startled, she jumped, still facing away. “Oh, cut the crap,” the man said, “surely, you were expecting me.” “Just probably without 11 extra people,” he added, smirking, “Face it, you’re surrounded and helpless.” With that, she grinned, for my eyes only. “Yeah,” she replied, finally turning around, “don’t you think that’s a little unnecessary. Why are you here anyway? Are you repenting your sins or something? I mean you stole the thing I hired you to help me get. Needless to say, I’m not paying you your commission. If you give it back to me, I may reconsider.” “Foolish child,” Becker said, “you think I’m going to return the Aztec Orb.” Ann, gasped. “Yeah that’s right,” he said, “I know what it is. After my technicians spent countless hours trying to get the damn thing to work, they finally gave up. Tell me how the hell you make it work, or I’ll shoot you and your assistant right in your fucking heads.” “Relax,” Ann replied, now staring right at Becker, “There is no need for hostility.” “Okay then. You know the drill. Tell me how to fix it and no one gets hurt,” Becker said, reassuringly. “Fine,” Ann replied, “But your technicians are far too stupid to fix it. Plus, they don’t have the necessary tools. Basically, I physically need it here in my hands if you want me to unlock the Orb. You do have it, right?” “I’m not going to fall for your trap, Ann. Do you really think that I’m that stupid? I have the Orb stashed safely away, somewhere you’ll never find it.” With this, I got pretty concerned. “Um…,” Ann said, matter-of-factly, “you better get that thing here quick or it’s going to be useless for both of us. It has a detonation sequence.” “Jesus! One trap after another. You really think I’m going to fall for that,” Becker shouted. Clearly, things were not going as easily as he’d thought they would. “It’s no trap, Becker. Take a look at this;” she took an ancient-looking tablet from the table and held it up. Becker directed one of the men to take a look at it. “Completely legitimate,” the man said. Becker sighed, as if thinking to himself, “Oh shit.” Ann burst it, “Yeah, so where’s the Orb.” “At Treasure Industries,” Becker replied, “And don’t try anything. Remember, I’m in control.” “Don’t try anything? You mean like this?” she said, snapping her fingers. A high-pitched sound went off, and smoke came out of no where. In an instant, all of the men, except for Becker, were knocked out on the ground. Behind him stood four men: my friends, all standing in a row with their arms crossed and black-tinted glasses on. “Oh shit!” Becker screamed. “Quit your yappin’,” said Todd, my favorite of the four, before covering Becker’s mouth with his bandana. I then fastened him to one of the kitchen seats, with handcuffs. The rest of the men were taken to the back yard, shot, and buried. Todd had identified them: they were very bad men. One man, however, was spared: the scientist. He would get a lighter sentence: prison. My friends and I didn’t fool around. If you were a bad person, we’d kill you. We didn’t like loose ends.

There was no time to waste. According to Ann, we only had another day or so before the detonation sequence. But this was purely speculation, and while Ann always remained optimistic about the amount of time we had left, she reminded me constantly to always hurry things up and move as quickly as humanly possible. My friends sandwiched Becker in between them in the back seat of the car. Ann and I sat in the front. Treasure Industries was at least an hour away, and, with my jokester friends in the back, it would feel way longer. Luckily, it was still on our island. Had the building been elsewhere, the trip could have taken a day. We’d need to get a ship and a crew. The ride over was beautiful though. I’d taken few trips to the city; our deep-nature location provided for all of our needs. The trees, passing by at hundreds of miles per hour, however, were truly a sight to behold. I definitely needed to get out more. As we arrived the city, I slowed down tremendously from our 400 mile per hour speed to meet the 50 hr/mile speed limit. We passed by the North District, where Timothy, or Tim for short, insisted that we buy him a Big Mac. We were short on time, but you definitely didn’t want to deal with a hungry Timothy, so I obliged. Treasure Industries, however, was in the South-East district, and with the traffic in this time of day, the remainder of the trip would be slow and treacherous: the drivers in the city were careless and stupid, one of the reasons I opted to live out in nature and stay at the mansion. I avoided near fatal accidents at least four times, and countless other minor ones. As we drove by intersections, I must have seen dozens of ambulances attending to the injured and dead. The city needed to clean up its act, but with the corrupt politicians in government, it was unlikely that’d happen any time soon.

In the midst of my thought, the navigation system interrupted me. “You’ve arrived at your location, Butler,” it said. You’d think that in the last hundred years, navigation systems could have more personalized messages then the same cliché message with only your name attached. Even the pronunciations of some South Island names were completely inaccurate. We had time machines, but we hadn’t incorporated correct pronunciation into the most vital of devices. The inconsistency within our society at some times made me speechless. I slowed down to 30 miles per, 20 miles per hour, 10 miles per hour, and finally, 0 miles per hour. In front of us lay Treasure Industries, the epicenter of Treasure Hunter activity. Tim slapped Becker across the face. “Wake up you little shit,” he said. Terry copied the action of his friend, slapping Becker once again, as if in agreement with Tim. This was actually an odd occurrence, as the two rarely agreed. When they did, however, it was usual over the use of violence. Violence was probably the only thing keeping those two working together, and further, sane.

On the ride over, Ann had studied Becker’s tracking equipment. What had probably taken Becker at least a decade to master, had taken Ann only an hour. Being this close to the artifact, and with the newfound knowledge of highly advanced tracking technology, it would literally be a piece of cake to find and retrieve the Orb. The only reason we brought Becker along was in case he somehow managed to contact someone on the outside to save. We couldn’t risk it. Plus, on the off chance that Ann couldn’t figure out how to use the tracking technology, we’d need to threaten him in order to show us where exactly he hid the damn thing. Luckily, as Ann turned on the tracking device, she saw a faint signal. A small red dot beeped, showing us the two dimensional location of the Orb within the building. She enhanced the signal, and the dot grew in intensity. She then stepped out of the car, and gave me, Ted, and Todd three beacons. She instructed Ted to place it on the right side of the car, Todd to place it on the left, and me to place it on top of the car. Executing the code she had written in the car, the two dimensional tracking device now had three dimensional capabilities. With one quick press of button, she had found exactly where in the building the device was. This was very important, because while we would have known the two dimensional location of it, considering the building was a sky scraper, the search would have taken eons. “Alright,” she said, “It’s located three stories below ground, in the far top right corner. It’s probably Becker’s office or something. Let’s move!” Ann, Todd, Ted, and I all approached the building. Tim and Terry stayed behind, reading comic books, messing with, and keeping eyes on Becker.

We entered through the back door. Todd and Ted quickly knocked out the two guards there, and I picked the lock. Once inside, there was an entrance with a keypad. Ann wrote a specialized executable code on the tracking device, plugged it into the keypad, and easily unlocked it. That girl can mess with computer systems like silly putty. With the keypad unlocked, and the light turning green, two great doors slid outward, revealing a grand elevator. The elevator was apparently voice activated, as it immediately asked, “Name?” Voice manipulation was my game, and I asked Ann if I could give it a go. “Go ahead,” she said. Spending all this time with Becker had given me ample time to observe his voice. I had mimicked on more than one occasion, so I thought nothing of trying to sound just like him. Talking just like he did, I said, “Becker.” For a moment, nothing happened. The elevator’s screen read, “Processing…” A moment later, it said, “Accepted. Welcome Becker!” “It’s good to be home,” I said, still mimicking his voice. A secondary panel came into view, for selecting which floor you would like to ascend or descend to. Ann pressed -3, and the elevator suddenly dropped, as we all experienced weightlessness. When we arrived on the bottom floor, Ted and Todd again took out the bodyguards, stunning them with electric shockers, which they seemed to love way too much. Ann carefully observed the tracking device, and I picked door after door until we finally made it to a room with the sign, “Becker.” The door’s lock had been recently upgraded, probably because of what it had just recently contained. When I pushed open the door, we were greeted with a well kempt room. Ann located the Orb just behind the desk, in a locked box. The chest the Orb was located inside was actually pretty sophisticated and probably cost Becker a small fortune. However, he stupidly opted to go for a digital version. With Ann’s expertise, she would be able to mindlessly unlock it. When she unlocked the hatch, and opened the door, she and the Orb were once again reconnected. “Together we are at least,” she said, “Nothing will ever keep us apart again Orb. Sorry to keep you waiting so long.” It was strange to watch Ann talking to an Orb, and I must admit, it was some sight to see, but I could completely understand it, at the same time. With this Orb by Ann’s side, she could literally change the world. Ann might have had the intelligence, but she lacked power. Now she had both. Closing the chest back up, she collected herself, and we walked right out of that place. When we got back to the car, Becker looked pretty badly beaten up. He was unconscious, apparently. Tim and Terry had mischievous smiles on their faces, but, considering what Becker had put us through, none of us felt the smallest ounce of remorse. Becker fully deserved what we’d put him through so far, and what we’d be sure to put him through in the future. He picked the wrong group to mess with, that’s for sure.

At this time of day, there would be far too much traffic to even attempt to go back the same way we came. If it had taken us an hour to get through the city, it would take at least four, if not more, to get out. I suggested that we make our way to the outer part of the city, and then proceed to travel along the perimeter. But, before I could even say anything, Ann had already shifted course, following the advice I was going to give her before I could say anything. She stepped on the brakes, made an illegal U-turn, and traveled full speed towards the outer part of the city. There was practically no one in our lane, but traveling parallel to us, were a line of cars, budging forward just barely enough to be identifiable as movement.

We were probably half way out of the city, when I noticed a car following us. “Ann,” I said, “how long has that Maroon Ford Terrain been following us.” She looked up at the driver’s mirror, just noticing the act herself. “Wow,” said Ann, “I can’t speculate on how long it’s been following us, but the way it is seems very aggressive, as if they want us to be aware of their presence.” Soon, from the arbitrary cloud of cars on the highway, came more and more cars, joining in the aggressive advancement. By quick count, I figured there were at least a dozen or so cars, with completely full passenger seats. I estimated that there were probably fifty or so guys chasing us. “Oh fuck,” I blurted out in utter shock, making no attempt to conceal vulgarity. I had wondered earlier in the day whether things could get even worse; I guess the answer was yes. Ann too seemed worried. Throughout everything else that had happened, she had been calm and collected – even throughout the surgery – but this time it seemed as if it got to here. She had no way out and no time to plan. She was stuck. We all were.

Two of the cars sped past us, on either side, before slowing down to our speed. The windows on each rolled down, and we were suddenly treated with two machine guns pointed directly at our faces. The man in the car traveling to our left said to Ann, “M’am, pull over or I’ll shoot them’ tires of yours flat.” Right then, I noticed Becker laughing, low at first, but it grew louder and louder in intensity. His laughing eventually became hysterical, and he started repeating, “Oh, you guys are in trouble now,” over and over, as if he were a robot. His voice greatly resembled that of an annoying, immature younger sibling. Tim had had enough. He hit Becker over the head with his fist, knocking the treasure hunter unconscious immediately. The four of them then proceeded to load their weapons with ammunition, sharpen the knives in their coats, and stretch out their tired muscles for combat. All the while, Ann kept on driving, processing the information. She seemed locked out from the world, in a comma of sorts. I tried to talk to her. “Ann, you there? What should we do?” There was no response. “Yu-hoo…” I said, “Is anybody home?” Still nothing. For a girl her age, she was a remarkable child, no doubt about that. But, sometimes, you just needed to take over. I lifted her out of her seat, scooted over to her side, and placed her in the front passenger seat, all the while keeping one hand on the road. “Fellas’,” I said to the preoccupied combatants in the back, “Got any ideas?” “We can take em’,” shouted Terry. “Yeah! No problem-o. We can take em’ easily,” said Tim. Again, the only thing these two ever agreed on was violence. Todd and Ted, however, were more methodical in their approach and thought process. “I don’t know Butler,” said Todd. “Me neither,” said Ted. Todd continued, “There’s at least 40 guys, probably with some level of combat skill. Frankly we’re just outnumbered. They’ve got more guys, and their in the position of power. It seems like we only have two options: either slow down and do what they say, or try to outpace them with this old thing.” “The latter option doesn’t look too promising,” said Ted, slapping the interior of the car with back of his hand, “I suggest we give in to their demands, and fight our way back.” “I’d have to agree,” said Todd, “It’s not worth it to try to outrun them.” Tim and Terry sat, all the while, with their heads faced downward, disappointed. Ann was still in her seat, locked in a comma. The decision sat with me, and me alone. I rolled down my window, told the man in the car I’d comply, and continued driving, looking for a place I could pull over. Time seemed to slow down. Todd had talked about fighting back, but I didn’t know if I had it in me. It felt as if every time we got ahead, there was yet another obstacle in our way. Ann had been through so much, I’d been through so much, and frankly, I was just exhausted; we both were. I didn’t know if I could fight another battle. But I kept driving, a tear running down my face, entering a comma of my own.

Right then, Ann spoke, “What’s going on Butler? What’s happening.” In that moment, I snapped out of it and came back to reality. Regardless of how I feltl in the exact moment, I knew what the final outcome had to be. I made a pledge when Ann hired me. To serve her, as a bodyguard, and assistant, unconditionally, no matter what the stakes. I wasn’t going to give up on that now. I wasn’t raised to be a wimp. No, I was raised to be a fighter. I would see this battle through and fight, as I had fought in every battle. And in the end, with some battles lost, but most battles won, with my enemies defeated, lying on the ground in agony, I would rise up and rejoice. When it all came down to it, when the dust settled, we’d come out victorious. No matter the outcome of any given battle, we’d be the ones to win the war. There was a pitstop ahead. As I approached it, slowing down with each passing moment, my eyes sparkled once again. This is what I lived for. I made a rapid turn onto the pit stop. While there may have been at least 12 cars following us, probably only four or so would be able to fit along with our car. The pit stop just couldn’t accommodate anymore. On top of that, while there certainly wasn’t a lot of traffic, there was definitely some. And this, being a highway, meant that the civilian cars were approaching fast. Therefore, as I got off the highway and onto the pit stop, with four cars following me, the rest had no where else to go but forward. Within minutes, they were out of sight.

The pit stop had clearly been neglected. The barren earth had an overlay of trash: bananas completely covered in ants, moldy tofu, and an abandoned carcass. Plastic trash bags were overflowing the garbage, and the wind had scattered them all across the ground; they covered it like a carpet. As the men stepped out of their respective cars, I could here the rustling of the bags as they stepped over them. They walked slowly, as if to intimidate as much as possible. Their uniforms were identical to those of the men who invaded our home, yet it became increasingly clear that they weren’t on Becker’s salary. Becker did well for himself, but not this well. He wasn’t a ringleader, a CEO, or a boss. One thing was for sure, though, Becker was in some way connected. Whoever these men worked for, whoever the man in charge of this whole operation, Becker worked for as well. Meanwhile, hysteria ensued within the car. Ann was slowly awakening from her comma. Sometimes, although rarely, she would completely shut down; I came to the conclusion that it was due to massive stress. Although she looked fine on the outside, if she couldn’t handle it, she would mentally implode. Maybe this was one of the problems with premature genius. Anyway, it was quite obvious that this had just happened to her because her words were slurred when she spoke. She appears to be suffering from some sort of speech impairment. I could tell it was a struggle for her, but she managed to output words, B-B-Butler,” she said, “We mustn’t let them… They can’t… Don’t let them get us… Not again.” Ted agreed completely. “Yeah,” he said, “This is our chance. Most of the cars are probably far gone.” Todd interrupted, “Ted, we’re not going to be able to outrun them with this thing, even if there only are four of them. This car’s junk compared to what they’ve got.” All the while, the men approached, closer and close. Tim, thinking he caught his lucky break, commented, “There’s only like twelve of them. We could take them blindfolded.” Terry, obviously in agreement, said, “Yeah! Let’s beat their faces in and steal their car.” There was silence for a moment. Then, Todd replied, “Holy shit Terry, that’s not a half bad idea. Why don’t we do just that Butler. Let’s beat the crap out of them, tie them up, and take their car, hiding the rest the cars behind the bushes.” It sounded like a decent plan, but there were just so many flaws. Flaws were on thing I simply wouldn’t tolerate: not again. “No Todd,” I said, “It’s not going to work. The rest of those guys are probably stopped up ahead at some other pit stop. Look at that one, right over there,” I said, pointing, “He’s talking over his cell phone, probably to the rest of the men. Sure we could take these guys, but there are reinforcements ahead. And with this kind of traffic in the other lane, there’s no way to escape this. If we take their car, we’re not going to be able to outrun them; they’re driving the same damn thing as we would be. Suddenly, out of no where, Ann rested her hand on my shoulder. I looked up at her. With every ounce of might in her body, she lifted her arm from her lap and extended it forward. Her knuckle separated, revealing her pointer finger; it was pointing at the cars dashboard, and more specifically, a red circular button. On the button were the words, “Warp-speed.” It all came back to me. I remembered Ann breaking into NASA to steal the technology, and then testing it on the car. The wheels had been specially designed to rotate without friction when pressed, so as to work flawlessly. Technically, I remembered, we wouldn’t actually be traveling at Warp-speed, for traveling at that speed on earth would be deadly, but Ann had designed it to actually enhance the cars engine. The car, on Warp mode, could outrun even the fastest racecars. “Guys,” I said, “we’re getting out of here.” And with that, I pushed the red button.

The steering wheel was sucked into the car, transformed, and spit back out. It looked futuristic. There was a knob for regulating velocity; it was anything but traditional. Instead of showing speeds, it should how much speed it would add. Options included: +25mi/hr, +100mi/hr, +300/mi/hr, +500mi/hr, and +1000mi/hr. The latter option was engraved in red, and covered by a warning sign. I reasoned, +300 mi/hr would be more than adequate. My seat morphed into a racing seat; it raised my neck slightly forward. My back was lowered and my legs were extended forward. A pair of glasses dropped from the ceiling; I put them on. Suddenly, there was an overlaying user interface atop my normal vision. It was navigable via brain waves. The whole transition was refreshing, even though I had already tested the concept car once before; I still couldn’t believe that I had forgotten about it. The men were now just feet from the car. They could tell something was up, so they increased their pace; their slow advancement turned into running. One of the men had just reached for the handle on Ann’s side door. I locked the car just in time, and his attempt failed. He reached for his gun, aimed at the window, and shot. I pressed on the ignition literally a millisecond before he had done so, and it was good I had; the bullet just missed the trunk of the car. The acceleration was remarkable. Unlike a normal car, the +300 mi/hr was an instant kick in. So while the car still accelerated from 0 to 100 in 4 seconds like most modest cars in this day and age, that speed was just something added to the 300. We zipped by the 4 other cars in the pit stop, and, as we did, I couldn’t help but notice the expressions on their faces. They were priceless. We traveled for another few seconds before passing a second pit stop; it was much larger. Our combined intuitions had been spot on: in this pit stop rested the other 8 cars, except they weren’t resting. The cars had started moving before we even got there; I reasoned that the men at the other pit stop behind us had contacted them, notifying the rest of the men of the event that just took place. There was only one difference, though, between this larger batch of cars and the smaller one left in the dust behind us; when we sped by them, they disappeared from our vicinity just a little bit slower.

We were on the road again. Becker was now in tears. Todd and Ted proceeded to question him. They weren’t getting anywhere fast. They tried to get information out of him by asking kindly. That didn’t work. Meanwhile, Tim and Terry were fighting over the taser. These two trouble-markers wanted to get information out of Becker by more forceful means. After a while the two more thoughtful members of the group, Todd and Ted, let them. They scooted aside and let Tim and Terry do their worse. Becker pleaded, “Please don’t hurt…” Before Becker could finish his sentence, Terry tased him. As we drove, Ann started to come back to consciousness. She placed a hand on my shoulder. I looked over to her. She tried her hardest to muster a smile. “Thank you Butler,” she said, “Thank you.” Then she collapsed once again into a deep intrinsic sleep.

Becker was starting to realize the hopelessness of the situation. He started offering tidbits of information, and every time he did so, Todd and Ted would reach for more. We wanted to know who the head honcho was. Who the hell had the kinds of resources to hire all these men, and the necessary I.N.T.E.L.L. to plan out this whole thing from its inception. Whoever this person was knew that we were going to go to Becker, knew that the matter was time sensitive, and, lastly, knew about the Orb. This last part was something I still couldn’t believe. Ann had been so secretive about the whole thing. Only Ann, I, and a small group of people knew about the Orb. Either this guy found out about the Orb via his own means, or… Perhaps… No, it couldn’t be… Could it? Did we, maybe, have a spy among us? Well, certainly not with us in the car, at this moment, but did we have one at the mansion? One of our staff, possibly? It was certainly an intriguing theory. One that seemed highly unlikely, considering the thorough background checks I ran, but it was definitely not out of the question. In any case, it would be something to pursue at a later time. For now, we all had the tasks of questioning Becker to the full extent of his knowledge. We would leave nothing unasked nor unchecked.

Becker was still pretty shaken up from being tased on the near max setting. We all thought it was kind of unnecessary for Terry to put the thing on the highest shock level; even Tim thought so. However, after a twenty of so minutes, Becker seemed fine. Terry offered a retort, “Hey, maybe the shock will help jog his memory.” Tim chuckled. The rest of us were dead silent. This was no time for jokes. Sure, we were safe for now, but it felt temporary. We knew, well, I knew at least, that we’d face endless harassment unless we went right to the top. We had to figure out who the boss was, where to find him, and the cleanest, quickest way to kill him. While avoiding a few cars on the highway, Todd asked, “Where is he Becker?” “I don’t know anything,” Becker replied. Terry pointed the taser at his chest. “Wait!” Becker said, “Really, I don’t know where he is. We only talked over the phone. I don’t know his name. I really don’t! I’ve never even the guy. I only talked through middlemen. Except, one time… Uh… Yeah, just through middle men.” “One time what!” interrupted Terry, drawing the taser closer and closer to Becker’s stomach for a second round of torture. “Wait! Wait! I’ll tell you. Jeez, give me a minute. Have a little mercy. Well, uh, one time, I did talk speak to him directly. He was in the shadows though, and I couldn’t see his face. He told me to call him Mr. Wesley. That’s all I know.” “What did he look like,” said Ted. “I told you already, he was in the shadows when I talked to him. I couldn’t see his face.” “No,” Ted replied, louder now, “What did he look like! Was he tall or fat. If tall, how tall? If fat, how fat? If neither, then what? I swear to god Becker, if you don’t tell me everything I want to know I’m going to take the damn taser from Terry, turn it even higher, and tase you till you’re fried like a fucking French fry.” I almost hit a car as I chuckled to myself. “Jesus man,” Becker replied, “All you had to do was ask. It would be nice if you could specify a little bit. When you ask broad answers, don’t expect anything but broad responses. But, okay, I’ll tell you. He was extremely tall… I dunno’. I’d say six foot eight, at least. He was wearing an expensive Italian suit; It was beige, I think. He was heavy, broad, and had a little bit of a stomach, but overall, he was definitely not overweight. He was completely bald; I could see the reflection of the light from atop his head. His voice was deep; it had a lot of bass. I dunno’. That’s pretty much it. That’s like the extent of what I remember.”

---

Even though I was looking away from him as I drove, I could tell that Ted wasn’t exactly completely satisfied with the answer. At the same time though, he had certainly calmed down. I could sense that Becker wasn’t telling us everything, and Ted likely could too, but it seemed as if that would be enough for now. Ted spoke, “I can do a pretty detailed search on the government database based on that information.” Ted was on the government’s payroll. The man actually despised the government, and moreover, the Chairman, but it gave him a pretty decent paycheck – a nice addition to his side job salary. Also, with the top secret information he was able to get his hands on to on a daily basis, he figured that when the time came for a little Coup d'état of the corrupt government, something he and a small group of friends in the underground were planning, he would be able to help out quite a lot due to his occupation. Although there was no denying that Ann was a genius around computers, Ted, himself, was not too bad either, to say the least. I had no doubt that he’d find out who our foe was. I was actually fairly impressed with this “boss-man’s” resources, there is no doubt about that, but these guys were all the same. They all functioned under aliases; usually, they would pretend to be major real estate managers or big bank investors, but it was never really too hard to figure out what was actually going on. You could always hack the credit card databases and look up their vacations; they would be gone for months at a time on vacations in remote paradise. The vacations would strangely (or not so strangely) always be composed of business meetings, lined up one after another. The men’s, or women’s, family would be protected by a few security guards, who were of course top of the line; the boss-man would always state, when asked, that he was in a business with high stakes and lots of money, so the guards were necessary. To an educated bystander, this was simply nonsense. What real estate broker would need to protect his family with a small army of bodyguards? The answer: a vindictive crime lord. Anyway, back to finding the guy. Knowing what type of clothes he bought, his apparent height, weight, and recent a movement could be cross-referenced and cross-checked. Ted estimated it’d take him no more than a day to find his suspect, but Ted always under promised and over delivered; I believed he could probably find the guy in a few hours, with an extra hour to make narrow the last three or so choices to one.

My cell phone rang. The navigation system asked, “Should I put the call through, Butler?” I nodded. When voice emanated from the speakers, it became clear that I was talking to Chef Laurent, the Head-chef of the household. “A huge cluster of cars has just arrived at the mansion,” he said, “Don’t touch me! Stop!” Then the call went dead. I had already predicted this would happen, so I had opted to travel in the opposite direction of the mansion, anyway. This simply proved my theory right; we couldn’t go back. Even though were in increasingly difficult situations, I couldn’t focus because the bulk of my brain’s processing power was on the ride. We were traveling at almost 400 miles per hour, basically twice the speed of the cars around us. A few times, I almost crashed into the car. It was like the game Frogger but in real life. Eventually, I lowered the speed to a more respectable 300 miles per hour, and put the car on auto-pilot. The navigation system asked, “Destination, Sir?” I replied, “Some safe place far away from here: a motel, possibly. The place has to be remote, hard to find, and have multiple exit points.” The navigation system replied, “I found just the place Sir, hold on.” Finally, I could re-focus myself on the situation facing us at present. It was clear that we couldn’t do anything until the crime lord was found and dealt with. I suggested, “Ted, why don’t you start searching for the guy right now. You have SpaceWeb right?” SpaceWeb’s the government’s high-tech, high-speed internet connection. It’s the only way to access any government database. The software will actually read your internet connection, check the Internet Protocol Address to see whether or not you’re on SpaceWeb, and then either permanently ban the MAC Address of your computer if you’re trying to get on it on a different or falsified IP address, or it will grant you a temporary connection. Ted reached into the back of the trunk. He looked for his bag, sorting past all of the other junk in the car. There was junk food galore and a myriad of technology and parts incase Ann wanted to concoct a new weapon or something on demand. Of course, being a kid, the girl also ate a lot of terribly unhealthy food. I constantly reminded her of the harm she was doing to her body. I would say, “If anyone, you should know of the consequences of this stuff.” Want to know what her response was? She set the work creating a device, or invention rather, which artificially recreated the process of people suffering from bulimia – but in a safe manner. Basically, the machine would disintegrate the excess carbohydrates, trans-fat, and sugar in your body, leaving only the desired input amount. It was of course an absolutely brilliant invention, and sold like hotcakes. That’s how she made her first real fortune; it was just a year after she had hired me, at her respective age of 5. Ted finally found the bag. He lifted it over the back seat, from the trunk, into his lap. When he opened it, he grasped. “Oh shit,” he said, “I must have left it somewhere. It’s not here… Oh man, did I leave it at the house? Oh shit! I did. Uh, guys… I’m not going to be able to track down this guy without a laptop. Sorry.” “Wait!” I said, “You left the laptop at the mansion? Isn’t there like sensitive information on there?” “Nah,” Ted replied, “The thing doesn’t even look like a laptop if it’s unlocked. It looks like a fricking cutting board. Even if they figured out it was a computer, they would never get past the inscription, believe me.” “Even these guys? I don’t know about that, the man probably has employed some smart minds on his payroll,“ I said. “Trust me Butler,” he replied, “They won’t get past it. But that’s not even going to matter, they’re not going to find the thing. Don’t worry about it. If we can go get me a new laptop or touchpad I can not only track this guy down, but, just to ease your worry, I’ll keep tabs on whether my computer has been messed with. If so, I’ll initiate a wipe sequence, erasing all the data on the laptop.” “Alright, so we need to get you a computer,” I exclaimed, “GPS… Take us to the nearest Walmart Express.” “You’re in luck,” the GPS system replied, “There’s one on the way. We will be there in about 15 minutes.” “Sounds good to me,” Ted said.

We arrived at the Walmart Express. The store was a drive through. You would process your credit card, choose what you wanted to buy via the touch-screen on the order booth, and then pick up your item. Of course, with people in high places trying to track us down, we were obviously going to stay away from using the credit card. Ted picked out a pretty expensive laptop from the order screen. “Hey there,” I said, “We only have a limited amount of cash and it needs to last us a while.” Ted picked out a cheaper version of the laptop and pressed the checkout button, all the while frowning. “Get over it,” I said, “It’s not for Reality Gaming; it’s for work.” I passed the casher a $400 dollar bill, keeping my head down so as to make sure that the surveillance video cameras wouldn’t catch a glimpse of our faces – for imaging later by facial recognition software. I thanked the casher and drove off. The GPS was set back on automatic drive, and Ted was hard at work optimizing the computer and tracking to build an antenna out of some of the stray pieces of hardware in the trunk. After a few failed attempts, he finally was able to get a signal on the satellites. Within minutes, he was connected to the government portal. “I’m on,” he said, “Now, let’s just see if I can find this guy.” Ann was regaining consciousness yet again, and from what I could tell from her facial expression, it didn’t look like she was going to relapse again. I asked Terry to pass me a liter bottle of Mountain Dew from the back seat. He found it, took a sip, and passed it over to me. “Can you get me a cup too,” I said. “Don’t push it,” he replied, passing my a cup. Terry was known to be a smart mouth. “How are you doing Ann,” I said. “Not bad,” she replied, “I have a slight headache, but you can tell that my ability to speak fluently is coming back to me. It’s like I had a brick wall, keeping me from thinking and talking. Honestly, it was pretty annoying, but I’ll be fine.” She grabbed the cup from my hand and held it out. “Soda, please,” she said. “Gladly,” I replied, filling her cup to the top. She sipped cautiously, so as not to let any spill. A few minutes later, she talked again, “What’s the status Butler. How are we doing?” “Well, we’re far gone from any of those men, as you know. Sadly, the mansion has been seized. But we all expected that; it came as no surprise. Right now, we’re traveling to a remote motel with multiple points of escape,” I explained. Terry butted in, “Don’t forget Butler, Terry is trying to look up the boss-man on the government database. He left his computer at the mansion, but we stopped by a Walmart Express to buy a new one.” “Smart,” Ann said, “But what preferences did you input to find him. You can’t just type: bad guy who’s trying to steal our orb.” This time, Ted, himself, answered, “We questioned Becker. We know what type of clothes he wears, generally how he aesthetically looks. I’ve got more than enough information to pinpoint who this guys is, where he lives, basically, the works.” “Good,” Ann said, now fully present in both mind and body.

We drove and drove and drove. Deeper and deeper into the forest we went. The planet was composed of a bunch of different island, all connected together by a network of bridges spanning thousands of miles. Island BC, the island our mansion, the pit stop, and Walmart Express were all on, passed by us as we crossed the bridge over to Island BD. There were way less cars on the highway than before, as this was not a highly frequented island. That, of course, was partly why we drove here, aside from the fact that the forest did an excellent job of denying satellite image tracking; so we’d be safe if the crime lord tried to track us down in that manner.

We were now surrounded by trees; they enveloped us in every direction. We had broken off from the main highway on to a side street. The moon shone brilliantly in the sky; everyone looked up at it, basking in its glory. Everyone, that is, except for Becker. The man was clearly disappointed. Nothing had gone his way. Of course, on a planet such as ours, in a universe such as ours, karma had a way of making true the popularized phrase, “Karma’s a bitch.” Perhaps, the universe would again side with us, so that the terrible man who had put us through all of this, “Boss-man” as Terry referred to him, would be put in his place and experience the same emotional breakdown that Becker was experiencing. After what the crime lord had put us through, no, after what he had put Ann through, I was going to make sure that the guy experienced the most pain possible. This was a man who had messed with the wrong girl genius, along with the wrong bodyguard, and who was going to pay immensely for his wrongdoings.

We arrived at a quaint Bed and Breakfast deep in the forest. It was dark out, and I heard a wolf howling in the distance. "Ann," I asked, "Do you think you have enough strength to get out of the car and walk to the building?" She attempted to get up. She stayed up for a moment but then collapsed back into her passenger seat. "Alright," I said, "I'll carry you in." I turned off the ignition, opened the driver door, and walked around the front of the car to her door. I could see Terry and Tim running ahead. "Book us a few rooms!" I screamed. They ran on, ignoring me; I couldn't tell whether they heard me, but it didn't matter anyway. I opened Ann's door, and put one arm under her feet and the other under her head. I gently lifted out of the car and up in the air. Her eyes opened and closed repeatedly, slower after each cycle. She yawned. It must have been at least two o'clock PM. I turned my head and quickly glanced at the car's dashboard. It was in fact 2:43 PM. I was personally loaded up on coffee, so I was fine now; within an hour or so, though, I would surely crash. Ted was still in the back searching for our suspect. Todd watched the screen, as well, enthusiastically. "Are you two going to come in any time soon?" Ted said, "Yeah, maybe in like half an hour or so." Todd said, "I'll come in when he does," pointing to Ted. "Okay, see you two later," I said, walking towards the building with Ann in my arms. The motel was quite cozy on the inside. Tim and Terry were playing one of the classic arcade games in the lobby: some three dimensional competitive first person shooting game. I walked up to the receptionist and said I needed enough rooms to accommodate six people. She gave me three rooms: one for Tim and Terry, one for Todd and Ted, and one for Ann and I. She showed me a catalogue: each room had two beds, a nice 40” flat television, and a pretty decent bathroom. The lady gave me three room cards. I asked her to keep one for Todd and Ted, telling her that they would be in shortly. I walked over to Tim and held out the key card. He said, “Could you put it in my pocket. My hands are a little preoccupied.” A moment later, he shot one of the civilians, and the game said, “2 of 5 Civilian Casualty Penalties Used Up.” Tim whined, “Damn! The women looked like she had a pistol in her purse. This is completely unfair!” Terry just laughed. I put the key card in Tim’s right pocket, just as he instructed, and walked to the elevator. Still holding Ann, I waited for the elevator door to open and went up to the third floor.

I carried Ann over to the bed and tucked her; I slipped her under the sheets, pulled them up over her, and added an extra pillow under her head. Within moments, she was fast asleep. I on the other hand direly needed a shower or something; at very least, I needed some fresh water enveloping my body. When I walked into the bathroom, I noticed a wonderful luxurious Jacuzzi; I opted for it instead of the boring old shower. It would give me some time to cool down and collect myself and my thoughts. While the tub filled up with water, I decided I’d go watch some television. “Let’s see what’s on,” I uttered to myself. Not wanting to wake Ann, I grabbed a complementary headphone set from the accessory cabinet and plugged them in. There was a lot of reality crap on. MTV had taken over in the last hundred years, stupefying our entire population, starting with the youngest in our society. The network now had multiple channels and had expanded its reach from the North American and South American countries to all of Asia and Europe. For those of us educated on the matter, it was just another problem with the corrupt government in power; it was a pandemic of stupidity sweeping the nation, but the network kept paying out bribes to the government keep their shows running. These shows constantly employed subliminal messaging, using many of the idiots in our society as drones to do their bidding. Anyway, I choose to watch the Cooking Channel; a channel on which I always learned something new.

After an hour of watching “The Secrets of Restaurant Chefs with Bill Relano,” the sensor in the Jacuzzi started beeping. I rushed over to it, hoping the sound hadn’t woken up Ann. Looking over, I was relieved to find that it didn’t. I carefully folded up my clothes, put them in the washing machine, and then walked over to and lowered myself in the tub. Once I was in, I pressed to start button. The door to the bathroom closed, and the jets in the Jacuzzi started silently roaring. The day drifted away; I could think clearly once again. I started planning how we were going to go about taking the “boss-man’s” empire down; I wanted to disassemble it from the bottom up. If you get rid of the base of any structure, the whole thing collapses. This best describes what I wanted to do. I soaked in the bath for another twenty minutes until I heard both the room behind me and the room in front of me filled with occupants. I guess Tim and Terry had finished their arcade game. Even more importantly, though, was the fact that Ted had apparently finished his search. “Great,” I thought to myself, “he’s found out who the guy is!” I was quite enthused, but at the same time, I was beginning to crash from my coffee overload. It was time for bed. I lifted myself out of the Jacuzzi, dried myself, brushed my teeth, and drifted off to my bed. My final thought before falling asleep: these beds are quite plush and comfortable.

I woke up refreshed and invigorated. The sun shone vibrantly in a stream through an opening in the curtain. A sat up in the bed and stretched me arms. Without opening my eyes, I said, “Good morning,” expecting a reply. The girl was nowhere to be found. “She’s probably downstairs eating breakfast,” I thought to myself. I put on a robe, and headed downstairs myself. My stomach growled; I just remembered that I hadn’t eaten for at least fourteen hours. When I got downstairs, and made my way to the central dining area. There were a bunch of random tourists and civilians and didn’t recognize, but, down at the end of the table, I could see the gang. I walked over to meet Ann. She looked completely revitalized herself, happily eating French toast covered with freshly drawn maple syrup and a generous dollop of whipped cream. Terry and Tim were eating the same high-calorie, high-satisfaction breakfast. Todd and Ted choose a more grownup appropriate “Eggs Benedict with country ham over a baked croissant.” I choose to get the latter option and boy was I glad I did. The chefs here specialized in breakfast, after all the motel was a Bed and Breakfast imitation. My eggs were runny and delicious, just the way I liked them. In other words, the food was off the wall. Even though I was more than satisfied with my food, I asked Ann if I could have a little taste of hers. She pushed over her plate to me and bent over and grabbed mine, cutting a nice big slice for herself. In return, I cut an equivalently proportioned slice of her French toast and stuck it in my mouth; I was blown away.

Ted interrupted my self indulgence. “Butler,” he said, “I found the guy.” Suddenly, I remembered again why we were here in the first place. “Yeah,” I said, “Okay. Who is he?” Ted continued, “His name is Henry Tamoise. He runs a multi-million dollar software firm. But that’s not the best part. This is almost too much.” “Tell me. Tell me now!” I hollered, momentarily drawing the unwanted attention of some of the other guests at the long, narrow table. “He’s Becker’s father,” Ted said. Tim and Terry were hooting once they heard this; apparently, they, like I, had just heard this for the first time. Obviously, Todd, having been in the car with Ted while he was tracking the guy down, already knew this. “Speaking of which,” I said, “where is Becker?” This time Todd talked, “He’s tied up in our room. We dragged him in through the back door while Tim and Terry distracted the receptionist. He’s sleeping right now; we drugged him. He doesn’t know that we know the guy’s his father.” I replied, “This is a very curious situation.” “Indeed. Quite curious,” said Ann, now joining in on the conversation. We all finished our respective breakfast, and agreed that we’d all meet up in Todd and Ted’s room in half an hour. The five of us – Todd, Ted, Tim, Terry, and I – all decided we’d have a competitive first person shooter tournament. Tim and Terry had an unfair advantage, being that they’d played the game before, and they both specialized in gun handling, but I figured there was no harm in trying. Ultimately, ten minutes later, my premonitions proved true. Todd and Ted stayed in a little longer, considering they were pretty equally matched in gun handling compared to Terry and Tim, but the two jokesters just knew too many of the games tricks and secrets from the night of playing before; it didn’t take long for them to be defeated either. In the end, just Terry and Tim were left. They tied multiple times before reaching a death match; the first person to get a single kill on the other player would win instantly. Terry got a lucky shot a sniper and took the win. Tim was completely awe struck. Out of nowhere he had suddenly lost. He kept on insisting that Terry had cheated; we all knew he hadn’t.

While we boys decided to play video games, I saw Ann retreat to the elevator. Even after I lost, I watched the tournament to its end – almost twenty minutes had gone by. I walked over to the buffet station and grabbed a slice of watermelon. It looked exceptionally delicious. I was just about to stick it in mouth and take a bite when I noticed an odd silence. I turned around to face the table, and all of the civilians at the table were unconscious and lifeless with their heads resting on their plates. My heart sped up. Thoughts were racing through my head. Had they really found us? How was that possible! Ted had said satellite tracking would be impossible here in the forest. And, I know for sure, there was no way they had chased us down. Again, the thought popped up in my head; had they found us? It simply didn’t make sense. I turned again, now facing towards the arcade. My friends, who had been in that spot just a moment ago, were now nowhere to be found. My heart was beating uncontrollably.

“Hello Butler,” said a voice from behind me. The voice was unfamiliar. Once again, I rotated my body trying to direct my vision to the derivation of the sound. Finally, a group of figures came into my vision. I was dizzy from turning so much and from sudden transformation of the situation I found myself in; I was caught off guard, to say the least. My eyes were returning a blurred image, but clarity was returned after a few moments. I could identify the figure in front of me; it was none other than Henry Tamoise. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” he continued. Trying to catch him off guard, I replied, “Me too, Henry. Henry Tamoise.” As I spoke those words and perfectly pronounced his last name, his eyes widened. But after a second, he regained his posture as well and said, “I hear you’ve got something that I want.” “I have no idea what you are talking about,” I said. “Oh, you know very well what I’m talking about, Butler,” he replied. “Do I?” I said. “I’m not screwing around Butler,” he said, clearly irritated, “Where the fuck is the Orb?” He now motioned at his goons to point guns at my friends; Terry, Tim, Todd, and Ted each had a bullet awaiting them.

“Not so fast!” said a voice from behind us. “Ann, how nice of you to join us,” Henry replied. “I’ve got the orb,” she said, “But I’ve also got something else.” She slowly moved away from the elevator; there was someone next to her. Becker came in to view, and Ann had a gun pointed at his head. “You shoot them,” she said, “and I shoot your son.” Henry’s face turned red. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, “Becker’s just an employee.” Becker was completely out of it; Ann had obviously given him some pills back in the room. He was following each of her instructions with no resistance. “Mind control medicine,” I muttered to myself, “Genius.” Ann continued, “No Henry, he’s your son alright. He was born on Island DE in 2103. He’s the eldest of your three sons; the last two of which are twins, both six years old.” I thought Henry’s face would explode; his face was now bright magenta. Henry took a deep breath and then spoke again. “Okay Ann,” he said, “Where do we go from here? You’ve got two things I want. And, well, I’ve got four things you want. Why don’t you give me the Orb and my son, and maybe I’ll decide not to kill you two. If I’m really feeling generous I won’t kill these four trouble makers.” Henry had forty-eight guys with him; these were the same goons from our car chase the day before; from the looks of it, they wanted vengeance. Ann talked again, projecting her voice as loudly as she could, “I don’t think you understand the severity of the situation, Henry. I have your son. I have a gun pointed at his head. Unlike those four, whom I don’t share a bloodline with, this man right here, inches away from death, is your son. He’s a lonely **duck** in a pond.”

The secret codeword had been said. Any good soldier knew that when the word duck was used in combat, you better fucking get as low to the ground as possible as quickly as possible. I dropped to the ground instantly; my body almost instinctively reacting to the command. No sooner did I fall to the ground, then so did Todd and Ted. Tim and Terry were a millisecond slow, but they soon were on the ground.

Everything happened so quickly. A brilliant flash of light blinded me. Everything went completely white. My ears popped. It was like déjà vu all over again. It was like I was re-experiencing the explosion that had started this whole ordeal. All the goons, along with Henry, were dead on the ground; their bodies were sliced in half. Ann must have thrown an ecliptic bomb; they exploded in all directions parallel to the ground. Ann and Becker were on the ground as well, on the other side of the room. Most of Becker’s hair had been cut of by the explosion, but he was still alive. The civilians were fine too; their unconscious bodies were safely resting on the table a good foot below the level of the explosion. It was all over. No more running. No more fighting. No more worrying whether I could fulfill my duties to keep Ann safe. It had seemed as if every time we got ahead, our enemies got just that much further in front of us. But there were no enemies. They were dead on the ground in front of us, bodies sliced in half. We might have lost some battles, but, ultimately, we had won the war.