Mechanical Maniacs: Life After Life

By Hadrian (Hardman) Howell

CHAPTER 6: Gathering

It was sixteen days before we were supposed to help a group of terrorists turn the world upside down. And it was the first time we weren't under the Middleman's supervision since I'd signed up. Needlegal/Constance was keeping an eye on him while he ran a few errands of his own. Something that took him out of town. Probably a meeting with his own employers. So, for today at least, we were free to do what we liked.

Naturally, I was at a bar. If you didn't see THAT coming, you've been skipping ahead. Shame on you.

The place was called Gidget's, mostly because Gidget owns the place. I'd met her a few times, and while I was not eager to repeat the experience, on the grounds that she was a creepy, creepy old gypsy (and that's coming from ME) , she ran a good bar. A higher class kind than my usual hangout. For example, this one had pool tables, and not the kind you have to pay for.

And it turns out that nearly everyone I know is better at pool than I am.

I grumbled a few swear words as I watched the que ball sink into another pocket. SD, formerly known as Topman and still wearing that same bright smart-ass expression of his, grabbed the ball out and set it on the emptier side of the table.

"Wow, you're terrible at this," he commented wryly. "Four to the two, corner pocket."

"'S not MY fault. I haven't played pool fer a long damn time. Since b'fore I met all ya yahoos th' firs' time."

Raijin took a sip of his Dr. Pepper. "That was, what, 20, 21 years ago?"

"Somethin' like that."

SD sighed and shook his head as he lined up another shot. "Damn, we're getting old."

I glared at him as he tried to hide his grin. "Aw, shaddap."

"Off the four, hit the five, corner pocket and the four will fall into the side pocket."

"Just take yer shot." This was the other reason I was bad. I couldn't call a pool shot for the life of me. It just wasn't in me to plan that far ahead.

Assured that it would be a while before I had a chance to shoot again, I went up to the bar and ordered myself another whiskey. It was on the way back to the pool table we'd claimed that I noticed the guy in the corner. He was looking at me while trying hard to look like he wasn't looking at me. In the smoke-filled, dimly lit bar, it was hard to make out a lot about him, but I was almost sure he was watching me.

Unless paranoia was just starting to claim my bitter old man brain early. It's been known to happen.

I put it out of my mind as I set my drink down on the table and grabbed a seat, watching SD sink yet ANOTHER shot. "How th' hell do ya DO that?"

"Good English," he smiled. I winced inwardly. It was a terrible pun, and if you didn't catch it, you're better off.

I drained half my whiskey in one go. "So, what happened?"

"He sank about half of the solids left on the table in the time it took you to get one lousy drink," Raijin told me.

"No, no, not just now. Before. With th' team."

Raijin's features clouded over a little. "Ah, you mean... when we all decided we were done?"

"Yeah."

"You didn't hear anything? Nothing at all?"

"Er.... no?"

Now Raijin and I had SD's attention. "Wait, what? How could you NOT know?" he asked incredulously.

"By lackin' th' necessary information ta accurately reconstruct an' un'erstan' th' events responsible fer said occurence?"

"Quit being a smartass," Raijin said, rolling his eyes. "You never heard anything? From any of us?"

"Yeah, you guys weren't really on speakin' terms wi' me."

They looked at each other with that special tension that's reserved for the time when SOMEONE has to deliver bad news, and niether of them wanted it to be themselves.

Raijin finally spoke. "Well... you know that, after the incident with you knocking the tar out of Diveman, deserved as that was, our relationship with the other teams started to crumble. Some things were said that... really couldn't be taken back-"

"I blame Lennon," SD smiled.

"- and we sort of... drifted apart. Gauntlet admitted, early on, that making you resign your position to try and appease the other teams was a mistake, and we tried to find you again, but by then, you'd crawled into a bottle and disappeared. Then General Cutman came back."

I nearly choked on my whiskey. "No shit? There wasn't anything like that in the news or anything."

"Yeah, someone covered it up, I think. We went after him, against RPD orders, but... he was different. That nano-bot body of his made him impossible to hurt, let alone kill. Worse yet, he'd managed to blackmail Cossack's boys into working with him. We took a really bad pounding that day." He shook his head, taking a drink of his Dr. Pepper, and SD took over.

"We ran like hell, tried to regroup and get some help, but by then the RPD had put out a bounty on our heads. To them, we were mavericks, loose cannons that needed to be destroyed, and now all of the other teams that we weren't on good terms with were coming after us. That was... well, just about everyone. Having to defend ourselves against all of our former friends was just too much for Classi. She was the first one to disappear. Just went somewhere one day and vanished, for all intents and purposes."

"Kenta was next to go. Right before Dr. Wily tried using the situation to his advantage, and we all know how that one ended."

We shared a collected shudder. Wily had been... well, found was a broad term, in several places around Monsteropolis. Thinking back on it, General Cutman's return would have made that entire thing make a lot more sense to me.

"Cutman killed Wily an' Cossack?" I asked.

SD shook his head. "Actually... uh, WE killed Cossack."

"YOU killed Cossack," Raijin hissed.

"Bwuh?"

"Cossack had been sicking his goons on us a lot," Raijin sighed, "so we went after him. It turned out that Cossack and Cutman had cut a deal: he'd help General Cutman take us down in his bid to take over Monsteropolis as long as he left Russia out of his long term plans. We managed to take out pretty much all of his lackeys, but Diveman and Drillman got away."

"In all fairness," SD sighed, "I didn't MEAN to kill him. I would think someone who was a world leading roboticist would KNOW that you don't step close to a tornado of kinetic energy. I would have thought a man that smart would've realized that was a terrible, terrible idea."

"Shredded him like wet paper in a blender. It was NOT pretty," Raijin told me, shuddering a little at the memory.

"Wow..." was all I could manage.

SD heaved a sigh. "We ended up going after Cutman again, the five of us that were left. We knew we really couldn't win, but we were just trying to take him down. Kind of a last good deed thing. The smug bastard left the door wide open for us, too. Wanted to gloat that he could finally just kill us and be done with it, I bet."

There was a short silence. "So... er... what happened?" I asked after a while.

Raijin and SD looked at each other, a sort of worried expression crossing their faces. "Well," Raijin admitted after another brief silence, "We're... er... we're not sure."

"Everyone remembers something different," SD told me.

"Well, Wha' abou' Bos- Gauntlet. An' Lennon? What happened ta them?"

"Well okay, there is SOMETHING we can agree on," Raijin sighed.

"They're both dead. They took General Cutman with them."

The other two former Maniacs at the table spun in their seats and saw the man I'd spotted earlier. The one who'd been watching me across the bar.

"'Bout time ya d'cided ta join us over 'ere, ya sourpuss," I smirked.

The newcomer glared at me. "'My only concern is your comfort and happiness'?" he scoffed. "Who taught you how to act?"

"Ah, it's okay there, Kenta. YOU weren't th' guy I was tryin' ta fool."

Raijin was a little more off guard. "Nevermind the fast hair-dye job and you sneaking down here, how did YOU know what happened? You were half a world away!"

A strikingly blond Kenta sat down with us, the barest hints of a smile on his face. "Nagi Kurasawa has an excellent intelligence network. When a high-profile person like, say, General Cutman simply drops off the planet, I can always gather at least a smattering of information."

"Hurrah fer the Japanese will ta poke inta everyone else's business," I mocked, raising my glass and taking a short swig. I put the glass down and socked Kenta in the shoulder.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"Th' high 'n mighty attitude."

Raijin grinned. "Yeah, you had it coming. I wanted to throw you out the window after a few minutes of that 'high class businessman' act."

"I'd apologize," Kenta said with a straight face, "but YOU weren't who I was trying to fool. Incidentally, Hard," he said, casting a sideways glance at me, "you look like hell."

"I'm not nearly drunk enough yet fer me ta take somethin' like that lyin' down," I grumbled. "I'm gonna go get anuther drink, an' then we're not gonna talk about th' past fer a while, okay?"

"Fair enough," Kenta grinned as I got up and went back to the bar.

At least, for tonight, I could enjoy myself.