Chapter 6
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You gently pushed Cordax off of you and back into his seat, glaring at him with eyes that didn’t exist until he re-fastened the buckle on the seat. The train had taken off from zero to ninety in almost half a second, and while you were there to prevent the Cordax intestinal tract wallpaper fashion trend from ever beginning - it would help if Cordax hadn’t improperly buckled in to begin with - Winger was not as fortunate, slamming into the back of the cab with the full force of a, um, train, and having a much higher chance of obtaining a broken rib at this point than he ever had from you tossing him into a counter.
“Lemme run down the list of who we’re looking for.” Pakari said, projecting a green hologram in front of his face as the seemingly immune to the laws of momentum Krelikan stalked past your vision to peel Winger off the wall. “Agent Bird is, as I mentioned a minute ago, the head of the first research team, and far better equipped for the job than anyone here. Full alias is MocingBird, worked as a riot officer and was part of the division which first tested out the controversial permafuse armor developed by Stanford. I’m sure you’re aware Stanford was a subsidiary of Ghid’s company.”
“I am.” You replied blandly, obviously bored. Cordax is poking you, but you attempted to ignore it.
“Ah! Aah!” Winger yelped as he plopped to the floor. “Joints don’t work like that, you stupid calculator!”
Krelikan, who was glancing to Pakari for approval, simply shrugged in an extremely ingenuous manner and trudged towards the front of the cab. Winger rubbed his shoulder, breathing out vile words in the machine’s direction.
“…He’s primary objective since we can track his signature. The rest are likely with him, but in case they’re not I’ll be going over them too.”
“We already heard all this.” Racie mumbled, busy recovering from the sudden acceleration to fully groan at the reiteration of old info. “Can’t you just show him the screen and get it over with? Jeez.”
“No. Anyway, the next one on the list is Eilrach. Mummified a long while ago, he was requested to be present by those funding this little expedition as a sort of failsafe in case something went wrong. Locked securely, but you know the kind of threats we’re dealing with. I can’t agree with their decision, though-”
“Wait, no, stop. Back. Go back. Rewind.” Cordax pointed to the left to indicate backtracking in the conversation. “Mummified? As in, a mummy? Dead? You’re bringing a mummy?”
Pakari shrugged. “Hey, the last group had to bring him. Don’t judge me for their decision.”
“Wait, they actually thought he wouldn’t just kill everyone?” You commented.
“It’s a last last kind of last resort.” Pakari shrugged again. “You’ll have all the time in the world to ask them when we get them back. You’ll also probably want to ask about Zero, who I have literally no information on. Go figure.”
A muffled voice from the front of the train cried out. Krelikan began immediately running through his various capabilities, revealing his mechanical body was armed to the teeth with all sorts of dangerous weaponry, mostly firearms and explosives, but the occasional wicked-looking blade as well. He stopped in surprise at all the concerned glances he was getting.
“Wild said Two Minutes. I am making sure I am ready.”
As it turned out, the inspection had taken those two minutes, for the train suddenly lurched the opposite direction, and Winger went flying towards the front of the cab. He quickly removed himself from the opposite wall in anticipation of Krelikan attempting to help him again.
The train ground to a halt and the glowing speck reappeared. “Alright, all you girls file out! We’ve got only a few hours to get this whole thing over with, so… Go! Do it!”
Racie sent a couple questioning glances about the cab, notably at Wild, and with a shrug shuffled out of the cab. Cordax was the next to follow, scrambling to get out ahead of Krelikan. Your seatbelt was jammed, so you were undoubtedly the last to leave, the chatty speck zipping out just ahead of you. Without a doubt the view you saw after exiting the cab was the most sickening piece of architectural decay you had ever witnessed.
McGick Bottling Company, which just happened to also have a nuclear reactor large enough to eliminate all life in the surrounding area if it happened to leak. Cordax jabbed you violently in the side with his elbow. “Psst, yo, baldy. Why do all nuclear reactors look like golf balls?”
“It’s because…”
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