Hardman's Bar

By Hadrian Howell (Hardman)

Chapter 28

“Okay, now what?” I asked. Quickman was already gone, and an enterprising Gutsman had already thrown Gary in after Gauntlet and was on the way himself down to the bottom level to give chase again. Geminiman had vanished altogether, which left me alone with a battered Bubbleman and an out-of-breath Crystalgirl. An equally tired Gyroman, carrying a mangled Springman, touched down on the roof.

“What happen to you guys?” Bubbleman coughed, obviously in a bit of persistent pain.

Gyroman slumped to the floor. “Tired…” he gasped between breaths. Crystalgal went to his aid and I helped Springman up.

“Ya look like ‘ell, man,” I told him.

“You try getting crushed against a building by another, angrier building. See how you fare,” he muttered in a hurt voice.

I smiled. “I’d prolly do okay,” I shrugged.

“Screw you,” he coughed, not amused with me.

“Hardman,” Crystal brought my attention back to her, “we’ve got to catch that thing. I don’t know how much firepower we’re going to need to bring it down, but we’ll need a lot of it.”

“Yeah, when you find a way ta get four ton me delivered quickly by air, let me know,” I told her. “Right now, I think we better leave it ta th’ Boss and Gary. They’ve been in tighter spots before. Let’s us tend to th’ wounded while we have th’ chance.”

“That thing regenerates way too quickly,” Bubbleman said. “How does it do that? Nanobots?”

“More like Macrobots,” Gyroman said, catching his breath. “Each one of those cables is a separate entity, working on a hive-mind system.”

“What, like Bee Bombers?” I asked. Bee Bombers had been one of Hardman’s bodyguards of choice back in the days of the Third Robot Rebellion.

“Something like that, but a lot bigger,” Gyro nodded.

“Obviously,” Crystalgirl said.

“So, wait, we can’t kill a central control system because it isn’t there?” Bubbleman asked us. “Then how do we beat it?”

“Short of tactical nukes?” Springman strained.

“Preferably.”

“Well, I’m out of ideas,” the coil-headed Drastic Measures member shrugged.

I opened my mouth to speak when Cityman let out a roar and stopped in its king-sized tracks, tossing its body backwards in something like a psychotic fit. Something was pissing it off and, more importantly, hurting it. He was almost eight blocks away by now, but the sonic assault of what could be called screams shook us all to the core. Flames blossomed out of the Records building, melting glass and steel and dropping it to the streets below like molten blood.

“Looks like Fireman is having a ball,” Bubbleman mumbled. “Him or Heatman.”

“Don’t they hate each other?” Gyroman asked. Bubbleman just shrugged as we watched the pyrotechnics continue, searing Cityman’s outer shell like thin paper.

“Well, logically, I guess the best way to beat a building is to burn it down,” Crystalgirl said with a kind of smile.

“Firs’ thin’ in this town I WANNA see burn to bits,” I grumbled.

Cityman thrashed again, destroying everything around him as fire consumed him from the inside out. Liquid steel and glass flowed out of his open wounds like water from a fountain as the inferno burned hotter and hotter. Cityman was actually going down, his network of living cables melting or fusing together in what had to be a horrendously painful and slow process. He sunk to what could be called his knees with a shattering crumble, and I could make out several retreating bodies, some of whom were probably my team mates.

Suddenly, all the cables retracted into the Records building, as the patchwork of architecture that had been Cityman fell with a rumble and a cloud of debris to the ground, with a single explosion from inside the Records building itself signaling the end of Cityman.

I sat down, feeling the heat from even this distance as I heard a faint cheer go up all around the city.

“Huh,” I said, looking at the others. “That was easy.”

Then came the laugh. A high, cold, familiar laugh.

The world seemed to stand still for me as the discombobulated pieces of Mesmerman rose over the edge of the building, followed closely by his real-world counterpart, who hauled himself wordlessly onto the roof with his control cords. Crystalgirl shot to her feet, and Bubbleman turned to face the new foe, while Gyroman put himself between Mesmerman and the injured Springman.

“Son of a *****,” I grumbled. “Am I STILL dreamin’ this?”

“Au contraire, my large friend,” Mesmerman chuckled. Only the facsimile of his dark-world self seemed to speak, although the mouth never moved. “I am quite real, as is my monstrous friend your pals just destroyed.”

“What’s yer angle, Mesmerman?” I demanded. The others didn’t question the fact that I knew this guy, although they surely would later.

“My ‘angle,’ as you put it, is one of obedience,” Mesmerman told me in a mirthless tone. “After being offlined by your rather duplicitous friend, I’m afraid I was very unhappy with the idea of fighting your band of Maniacs again, but my master commanded it, so here I am.”

“So whose yer master?” I asked, nt really expecting a straight answer.

I didn’t get it. “Now, now, my massive friend, that would be all too telling, now wouldn’t it? Yours is to merely suffer and DIE!” As he screeched his final word, his dark-world form swept forward, scythe in tow.

I grinned as a Crystal Eye, a Gyro Blade, and a Wild Coil slammed into the on coming pieces of a body, stopping it cold, while Bubbleman, taking a nod from me, hit the real-world counterpart with his own attack, the Bubble Lead. The effect was immediate and noticeable, and Mesmerman’s alternate form vanished as his real one collapsed in emotionless pain.

Bubbleman kept his guard up as I stomped over and hauled Mesmerman up by his head. “I can crush you like a tin can, you idiot, and Bubbleman can stop you from doing anything suspicious, so just speak up and tell me who’s behind all this.

Mesmerman’s real mouth cracked open for the first time I’d even seen. His true voice was a hushed whisper, like what you might hear in your dreams. “Cheater,” he admonished. “It was not their fight, yet you allowed them to attack me anyway.”

“Eh, that’s what friends are fer,” I said, looking back at Crystalgirl, who gave me a nod. I tightened my grip. “Now TALK.”

The unremarkable robot before me smiled a meek smile. “Take this Pawn as a sacrifice, oh mighty Rook, but be aware than your King and Queen are unguarded, and your Bishops can do nothing to save them.”

I barely had time to think about it before one of his cords latched onto my arm and actually forced me to crush his head. The cord went slack, and so did my hand, and he fell with a sickening thud to the concrete. Only the bottom half of his face had survived, which was affixed in an all-too-familiar grin.

“Okay,” Springman said in a manner that mimicked Topman, “That guy had issues.”