Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Of rats and men

     Brian Smith sat at the bar, his head resting on the counter top, but he was wide awake.
Ever since the reoccurring nightmares, he had been feeling strange, and he didn't want to sleep anymore because of it. The bartender stood over the sink, staring at him in bewilderment as he washed and rinsed out several glasses. He didn't know if Brian was awake or asleep as his face was buried in his arms, and there was no movement. "Poor kid", he thought. "Must be having some personal issues or somethin".
Brian heard the bartender's words, but ignored him, he just kept trying to sort out everything in his mind. Suddenly the bartender caught sight of him moving and noticed his eyes were open, then proceeded to ask for his permission to turn on the television set. "No, go right ahead", Brian told him. "It won't bother me at all".

     As soon as he turned it on, there was news of a local death across the screen, and both Brian and the bartender were interested in this. "The body of twenty year old Daniel Morrison was found just this morning on the outskirts of an abandoned building!", said the reporter.
"Sources say he most likely fell from the stair case on accident or perhaps it was an act of suicide? At this moment, the coroner is examining the body in the morgue, so stay tuned for more information this afternoon!".
"Well fancy that", remarked the bartender. "Another unexplained death". Brian looked at him, and noticed he didn't seem surprised at all. "It doesn't make sense", Brian said. "How do you accidentally fall off a forty foot staircase? -"Can't tell ya", replied the bartender. "I've never done it, why not ask the dead kid?"

At that very moment, William, Justin, and Stan had shown up, and also seemed interested in the news.
And then suddenly the reporter was interviewing Daniel's mother, who was sobbing uncontrollably. "He was going to be a big reporter someday", she cried. "I just can't believe he's gone".
The sounds of her cries seemed to only affect all the people except Stan. He didn't seem bothered by it at all, in fact he took a seat at the bar and acted like it was nothing. "That's depressing", William sighed. "Why isn't there ever anything good on the news? It's always the same shit! A death, a mugging, or some illegal operation". -"Don't know", Brian said. "I guess there's never anything good to mention?" "Daniel's camera was found lying beside him", the reporter continued as the video footage zoomed in on something that used to be a two-hundred dollar camera. "As you can see, it is completely damaged from the fall!" -"It's smashed", Justin interrupted. "Doesn't look like the result of a long fall to me, it looks like someone smashed it!"

     Stan quickly turned his attention to Justin, glaring at him as if he knew the truth but was holding back from saying it. "It must of been a piece of shit camera", Brian remarked. "Especially if it could take that much damage in a forty foot drop". Suddenly Stan decided to speak up, he was tired of listening to the news. "I've heard enough", he snapped. "Turn off that television", he ordered. His voice sounded angry and the bartender wasn't about to piss him off, so he did as he was told. "What's wrong, Stan? William asked him. -"I'm tired of hearing about death all the time", he yelled. "And besides, who cares about what's his ass? Did we know him? No we did not, so stop feeling sorry for him, the guy sounds like a moron if he died by accident!". Silence filled the room, as the others stared at him in question. "How could you say such a thing? William asked him, while shaking his head in disappointment. "It's real easy", Stan replied. "You just act like you don't care".

     Suddenly William was under the impression that Stan was affected by it, but was coping with it in a bad way. "I understand okay?" he continued. "You just don't want to hear about the bad news anymore, just like the rest of us are sick of it". -"Exactly", Stan nodded. "It's just better to ignore it, and pretend it doesn't bother you". "Well then you'd be bottling up all those feelings inside", Justin added. "And that's something you don't want to do either".
"The poker tournament is continuing tonight", Brian announced, trying to change the subject.
"No way?" Justin exclaimed. "I guess they got too many complaints from the players, and finally caved in". "Yeah, guess so", Brian said. "You gonna win big?" -"Hell yes", Justin grinned.
"The pot-ski is gonna be mine-ski!" "Maybe not", William interrupted. "I just might jump on the wagon-avous too". Justin laughed at him "You slay me! What do you even know about poker?" William chuckled nervously. "I know some things", he replied. "I've watched many games, doesn't look too hard, and besides today is pay day".

     "Oh yeah!", Justin remembered. "That's right, we get our checks from the AMF today". Brian raised an eyebrow and looked at them. "The military pays you? he asked. "Sure does", William replied. "How else are soldiers supposed to make a living? And besides, does that make you wanna join or something?" -"No", Brian said. "No amount of money in this world could make me join". William gave him a funny look, and began to wonder why he was so against joining them. "What's so bad about it anyway?" he asked him. -"I don't want to fight", Brian explained. "I'm against violence, and refuse to kill anyone". William laughed at him and shook his head. "There's no fighting or death at all", he said. "I mean, we train and learn how to operate everything, but we've never killed anyone". Suddenly Brian had a flashback of his nightmares, and remembered the images of their city being under attack. "What if we do one day?" Brian asked him. "what if someday, we do have to fight?" William shrugged. "Then I guess if that day comes, we won't back down?" -"I have a feeling I will", Brian sighed.

     Stan looked William in the eye, and as he looked back, he could hear Stan's voice saying "I told you so". And he began to wonder if maybe trying to get Brian to join with them was the wrong thing to do, but still something inside kept him from wanting to give up. "Why would you back down?" William asked Brian, hoping he would have a good enough reason to do him justice. "Because, I'd be too afraid", Brian replied. Once again Stan looked at William, with almost a smug like expression on his face, as if he were waiting for the opportunity to speak out against him. "Fear makes you a coward", Justin butted in.

"Only a fool would back down from a fight". Suddenly William began to sense tension between Brian and Justin, and decided to put a stop to the conversation. "Okay, enough", he snapped. "No fighting, this ends now!
There is no reason we have to argue over something this trivial, it's never going to happen anyway so just drop it!" -"I'm sorry", Justin said. "I didn't mean to start anything". -"It's fine", Brian mumbled, even though he felt infuriated inside. "I'm going home any ways , I need sleep". And without saying another word, he stormed out the doors and started heading back to his apartment complex.
William lowered his head in disappointment, then turned and gave Justin a stern look. "You need to watch what you say!", he scorned. "He's been through a lot, and doesn't need to put up with your crap! Same goes for you, Stan". -"I never said a word", Stan replied with that same smug grin across his face.
"So don't point the finger at me". -"You wanted to", William continued. "I saw that look in your eyes, and no one else knows you better than I do". -"Are my actions always this obvious? Stan asked him.

--Victoria's Penthouse--

     Maxwell was standing right outside the door, when suddenly he heard what sounding like Miss Thompson throwing a fit. He just let out a deep sigh and began to turn the knob when suddenly he heard another sound, only this time it sounded like a gun shot. He opened the door quickly and peeked in, only to see Victoria standing in the middle of the room with a revolver in one hand, and a crinkled newspaper with a bullet hole through the center of it. "I take it, you've seen the news? Maxwell remarked. -"Those damn good for nothing morons", she yelled. "What do they take me for? Miss Thompson is green with envy? Why, I outta put a bullet in this numbskull's head", she shouted as she held her gun out in front of her. "Right between the eyes", she sneered. Without hesitating, Maxwell snatched the revolver out of her hand and tossed it across the floor. "Need I remind you, that we share this complex with other people? he scolded. "And the sound of you firing your gun like a dumb Dora isn't exactly showing hospitality on their behalf.

     "Dry up", she snapped back. "It isn't every day, that I have Natoya's fans riding my ass, let alone the scum bag paparazzi parade waiting for me to step outside so they can slap another one of my mug shots on the front page of Atlantis Daily!" -"You finished? Maxwell asked her.
She took a deep breath and nodded. "I think so". -"Good", he replied as he pulled a memo out of his pants pocket. "Because I have here, something that might interest you". Victoria poured herself a glass of moonshine and quickly chugged it down. "Go ahead", she told him as she wiped her mouth. "Well", Maxwell continued on. "The president of the Petite Cola company would like for you to model for their new ad". "Of course they would", she scoffed. "Continue". -"Well, that's the memo", he said. "What is your response? Are you going to do it or not?" -"Hang on", she said as she poured herself another glass. "You aint gettin a sober response out of me". "Oh piffle", he sighed. "Just accept the damned offer, besides, you may not get a second chance."

     "You know somethin", she said all of a sudden. "I just might do it". -"That's more like it", Maxwell said. "Of course", she smiled daintily. "I need the money for the Gatsby fund, and speaking of which, soon I'll have enough to open it to the public". -"Ah yes", Maxwell remarked. "That's just what this city needs, another business to generate revenue for the council". "Screw them", she snapped. "I just want my own little business, a place that I can personally design and run myself. I could care less about the money, it's all about the Ritz", she said with a saucy grin. "Of course it is", Maxwell rolled his eyes at her.

     --Zyrian Mother Ship--

     Zoal had grown impatient during the long journey to their final destination, and decided to pay his god tribute, by visiting the temple. Unaware of what had occurred in their earlier on, he entered the room and began heading towards the temple. But suddenly he stopped, something had caught his attention and even angered him. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed smudged finger prints on the golden scarab. He picked it up and examined it closely to make sure he wasn't just witnessing the gleam of its polished surface, but sure enough what he had seen were finger prints, and he was livid.
"Infidels", he growled as he stormed out of the temple.

     Nearby, Bhor had been talking with Khan and Ahtor when suddenly the sound of Zoal's angry voice boomed through the halls. "He knows", Ahtor gasped as he grabbed onto Khan's shoulders and started shaking him. "Simmer down", Bhor ordered. "I will handle this". -"You're not going to tell him are you?" exclaimed Ahtor with a panicked expression. Just as Bhor was about to respond, Zoal entered the chambers followed by Kronus. Both Khan and Ahtor stood before the warlord trembling with fear, and their mouths agape. Zoal looked right at them, and then glanced over at Bhor. "Someone touched the golden scarab", he snarled. -"And how dare they", Bhor said to him.
Kronus then handed Zoal his sword, and he clutched it tightly, while baring his teeth. "When I find out who did it", he continued. "I'll amputate their hands!"

     Hearing this caused Khan and Ahtor's hearts to race, and they looked at one another and swallowed hard. Bhor let out a sigh, as he began to think of a way to get his two subordinates out of trouble. Sure he wasn't fond of them, but still he didn't want any harm coming to them.
"It was I", Bhor said all of sudden. "You?" Zoal repeated, his eyes wide with disbelief.
"Yes", Bhor replied as he bowed before him. "But, why?" Zoal asked him.
"It was part of my scientific studies", Bhor replied. "I am deeply sorry, and will gladly accept the punishment for my crime". There was a moment of silence before Zoal gave his sword back to Kronus. "You are my loyal advisor", he said. "And I commend you for your honesty, so I'll let you off with a warning for now". -"Thank you my lord", Bhor bowed again. "But the next time, I will show no mercy", Zoal sighed. -"I understand", Bhor nodded, then watched as he and Kronus turned around and left.

     After they were gone, Bhor made an angry face at Khan and Ahtor. "You two imbeciles owe me a great deal", he snapped. "I can't keep taking the falls for your insolence". -"We understand", they replied in unison. "We are most grateful to you", said Khan. -"Just do me a great deal, and stay away from anything forbidden, or in your case, anything that's breakable. -"You got it", replied Ahtor.
"But I have to ask", Khan said. "Why isn't anyone allowed to touch the golden scarab?"
"Yeah", added Ahtor. "We don't understand". -"It is a long story", Bhor sighed. "And I'll tell you sometime, but that time is not now".

--AMF Control Station--

     Commander Williams had just finished typing up a false document to present to the council, when suddenly Admiral Grant walked in the room. "Busy?" he asked. She nodded as she started printing the papers. "What have you got there?" -"A false report", she replied. "Since I don't them getting suspicious, I came up with a pretty good solid explanation". -"Sounds good", Grant nodded. "Let's hear it!" -"Well", she sighed. "I've come up with the idea of telling them, we want to investigate that area for a possible radar installation. That way we can keep track of any activity outside of Atlantis". -"Sounds reasonable", Grant smiled. "Think they'll buy it?" -"Of course", she smiled back. "I have also included, a list of benefits this installation will provide". -"Morane has always been a sucker for benefits", Grant chuckled. -"And anything that makes him look good in front of the people", Lynne added. "That's a given", Grant said. All of a sudden, Lynne noticed something in one of his coat pockets and just had to ask.

     "What is that in your pocket?" Grant looked down and pulled the item out to show it to her. "My medication", he said. "Goodness", she gasped. "Is your condition that serious?"
-"Not really", he shook his head. "These are just to keep the symptoms under control". -"So I see", she replied. "Well make sure you take it as directed". -"Yes, Doctor", he joked. "I'm serious", she said. "Whatever it is, could get worse if you don't manage it". -"I'll be fine", he told her. "No reason to worry". "Well, okay", she sighed. "I just don't want anything to happen to you, because right now, you're the only father figure in my life". -"Is that what all this is about? he asked. "You're afraid of something happening to me?" -"Yes", she replied. "But don't listen to me, I'm just a worry wart".
"You get that from your father", Grant told her. "If there was one man who worried more than anything, it was Frederick Williams".

     "You don't say?" Lynne laughed. "Yes", Admiral Grant continued. "That man would worry about every little thing, so being in the service with him was quite the experience". Her smile faded as she sat there with a gloomy expression, wondering if she'd ever see him again. "I do miss him", she sighed. "And I wonder if he's ever coming back home". Grant placed a hand on her shoulder and attempted to comfort her. "Don't think like that", he said. "The worst you could was doubt his return. Just have faith that you'll see him and the others again". -"Thank you", she replied. "You're right about that, thanks again".
     

     Meanwhile, in a local abandoned warehouse, Morane with a bunch of his henchmen were gathered around one unlucky individual. At the same time, Victoria and Maxwell had arrived, but weren't expecting what they saw. "Did we come at a bad time?" Victoria asked. "It looks like you're busy with a client". -"Nah", Morane uttered in his deep raspy voice. "He'll be leavin soon". "Who is he?" Maxwell asked. -"He's a smart ass", Morane replied. "He thought he could get away with stealing from me, well he's about to get proven wrong". -"Poor fella", Victoria added. "Well at least you were generous enough to give the poor man a blind-fold". -"Gave him a muzzle too", Morane cackled. "Let's see you try to get out of this one, Johnson", he said to the man.

     The man tried to speak, but his voice came out muffled, and his hands were tied behind his back. He attempted to run, but Morane's men had him under control with their weapons. They ordered him to get on his knees as Morane himself pulled out a gun and aimed it at his head. Victoria and Maxwell looked away as the gun went off, all they heard was the gunshot and the sound of the body falling to the ground. "Clean up the mess", Morane barked, as he polished his gun and placed it back into his pocket. Suddenly Maxwell presented a black suit case before him. "Here's tonight's profit", he said. "all Thirty-six thousand clams". Morane took the suitcase from his hands and opened it to inspect for himself. "Not bad", he commented. "Could do better, but not bad".
-"We've been slacking in sales lately", Victoria added. "Not sure why either, perhaps the Card Shack has lost its swank?"

     "This coming from someone who plans on running her own business? Morane remarked.
-"Hey, I've got big plans for mine", she corrected him. "And besides, it's probably the low quality liquor you provide, no one wants to drink that crap, so maybe it would be wise to supply something with better taste?" Before Morane had time to respond, his cellular phone started ringing and signaled for Victoria to be silent while he took the call. "Yes?" he answered. She just rolled her eyes and took a seat on one of the crates nearby. "Interesting", he continued. "I'll be right there to have a look, you can wait for me, can't you? Alright, I'm on my way", he said as put his phone away and brushed his suit off.
"Who was that?" she asked. -"The council", he replied. "They called to tell me one of the AMF dames sent me an envelope with important information to look over, and also informed me that our special supplies are on their way".

     "Supplies?" Victoria questioned. "What the heck are you expecting?" -"A shipment of protoculture", he replied. "Sweet Jesus", she exclaimed. "Isn't that illegal now?" -"It is", he smirked. "But what the public don't know, won't kill em, at least not now". "What are you gonna do with it?" she asked. -"It's a simple scandal", he explained. "We're going to replace the current energy source of the AMF mecha with the stuff, to make em look like traitors". -"I understand that part", she said. "But how will the people even find out about it?" -"That's the other part of the plan", Morane said. "But, I'd rather not give away too much at this point". She faked a wicked smile while in his presence, but deep inside, she felt sorry for the men and women of the AMF, and especially William, because she was just starting to grow fond of him, and really didn't want anything happening that would jeopardize his future.

     Suddenly she and Maxwell started leaving, and before she mentioned her true feelings, she waited till they got outside the warehouse doors. "I tell ya Maxwell", she said. "Sometimes it really kills me inside, with being in the middle and what not". -"What do you mean by that?" he asked her.
"I mean, look at me?" she continued. "I'm stuck in the middle in this battle of good versus evil, and no matter what side I choose, there's always consequences". -"Could be worse", he added. "We could end up like that man in there". "And that's a bad thing?" she remarked. "Maxwell, I hate to tell you, but sometimes I'd rather die than see an innocent person suffer at the hands of this city. Atlantis is supposed to be a city of paradise, not a city of darkness". -"Who cares what happens to them", he scoffed. "And you're not fooling anyone, you do have feelings for that damned soldier, do you not?"
"That's no business of yours", she snapped. -"It doesn't take a scientist to figure these things out", he remarked. "Just be prepared to attend his funeral in the future, along with the other scum bags of the AMF".