Better Judgment:
The Dr. Wily Story

By Hadrian (Hardman) Howell

Chapter 9

199X

“See, THIS is what friends are for,” Tom smiled. He had just unwrapped a box full of small cans containing peaches. His radiated joy like a small star.

“Happy birthday, you big teddy bear,” Isaac grinned.

“It's Christmas,” I told him.

“Isn't Christmas Santa's birthday?” he defended himself.

“Okay, I'm Russian, and JEWISH, and I know how wrong that was,” Mikhail told him.

“Wait, seriously?” Isaac looked taken aback. “I've been living with you for... hell, almost a year now, and I'm JUST finding out that you're Russian?”

Mikhail went straight faced and smacked him on the shoulder. “Stop being stupid.”

“I believe I have had a little too much eggnog for that to still be an option,” Isaac smiled, the redness of his nose and forehead betraying the truth of his statement.

“I'm certain you don't need to excuse yourself with eggnog for the amount of stupid you are at any other time,” Noele commented dryly.

“True enough!” Isaac shouted triumphantly, for no real reason. He vanished back into the crowd surrounding the buffet table.

We watched him go, and Noele fanned herself with a card she'd gotten from Mikhail. “I appreciate that the heat is working here now, but could it BE hotter in here right now?”

“Maybe,” I said. “I think when they just broke it the other way; instead of the heat not working, now it works all the time.”

“Fantastic,” she grumbled.

This was the Christmas Party in our dorm building. The entire bottom floor was filled with all kinds of people, doing all sorts of stupid things. We, for example, were sitting around one of the tables in the middle of the throng of people, giving each other presents. This was by far the mildest thing going on in the building, but by no means the least strange.

“Who's next?” Tom asked.

“I think it's Albert's turn,” Mikhail nodded in my direction. Maybe. He was a little bit of everywhere, trying to sit up in some semblance of straight.

“Oh, this ought to be rich,” I smiled. “What could you people possibly have gotten me?”

Tom grinned and slid a box in my direction. I sighed. It was just the right size to be a stack of notebooks. If they'd been inventive, they might have been able to shove a few pens in there as well. I wondered briefly if they'd gotten me the right KIND of pen. Gel pens are an abomination, and any pen that costs less than 5 or 6 dollars isn't worthy of touching real paper.

“I've been working on this for a few months now,” Tom said, his grin indelible. “I was going to give it to you sooner, but every time I tried working on it in the room, you'd come home. And I'd have to hide it.”

“Is that what all that silly scrabbling about was whenever I walked through the door?” I asked. “I have to admit, I thought you were... Y'know what? Never mind.”

I set about unwrapping the box, unsurprised to discover the plain cardboard beneath the paper. Beneath the cardboard, however, was something... plastic? Green? I lifted the surprisingly heavy object out of the box, I couldn't really make sense of what I was seeing until...

“Is... is this a Flea?” I gasped, looking at Tom. His smile could have broken waves.

“Designed and built to your specifications,” he beamed. “It won't work without a central unit, again, like you designed, but I felt that being able to physically touch and hold something that we've been working on would make it all seem that much closer.”

“This is really... wow.” was all I could manage.

“Tom,” Noele piped up, “Where'd you get the money to build that?”

His grin never moved. “I was having a conversation with a guy named Walter and I was telling him a few of the ideas we were bandying about. He seemed really excited and offered to help fund our prototyping phase.”

“Walter Weisel?” Noele asked.

“I call him Walt,” Tom smiled.

“Shut your face hole,” Mikhail slurred in Russian. He'd been drinking since... yesterday, I think, and was even more sloshed than Isaac, who was just now sitting back down with a plate of food.

“Little hot dogs wrapped in croissants,” Isaac said with a whimsical smile. “Food of the gods. What's going on here?”

“Tom's making Albert weep with joy,” Noele grinned.

I wiped a few things that might have been tears from my eyes. “Tom, you idiot... this is... gah.”

“Is he actually speechless?” Isaac laughed. “I never thought I'd see the day!”

Mikhail spewed something in his native Russian that, while beautiful and uplifting was laced with enough racial slurs and sailor talk that I really shouldn't recount it in its entirety. It might have been a haiku. I honestly didn't know.

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” Noele asked, shock on her face.

“I kiss all of the ladies with my mouth,” he replied, again in Russian.

“Wow. He needs to be cut off,” she said to the rest of us.

“I'm not sure that's possible,” I said. “I haven't actually SEEN him with a bottle of anything alcoholic in his hands all day, and he still keeps getting drunker. I think it's osmosis or something.”

Tom was laughing. “This is almost too much fun.”

“Please!” Isaac grinned. “The Kintobor family motto is that there is no such thing as too much!”

“Yeah, we can tell.”

“Are you making a crack about my weight again, Noele?”

“No need,” she smiled. “Your weight makes all the cracks for me.”

“Ouch!” he laughed. “I give in! That was actually really good.”

I set the Flea back down in its box with a smile and stood up. “Save my seat, guys, I'm going to go get some food.”

“Hurry back,” Noele smiled. “I know you want to be here when Isaac gets his present.”

“Oh, it couldn't POSSIBLY be that good,” he said as I weaved into the crowd, making my way toward the buffet. There was an assortment of small sandwiches I had my eye on, so intently in fact that I had a few of them on my plate before I noticed him.

“Hello, Al. Having a good time?”

I froze, the world around me seeming to slow down. The dull roar of the noise of the crowd did nothing to silence the sudden pounding of my heart in my head.

“Oh, good lord, boy, unclench. I just figured I would say hello,” Alfred Gibbs said with that damnable smile of his.

“What do you want?”

“All kinds of things, Al,” he said in a friendly tone. “I'd like to buy a bridge in Brooklyn, swim the English Channel, and decorate the Pyramids of Giza for a kegger, but I doubt I will be able to do any of those things for a while.”

“You dream big,” I said carefully.

“Nah,” he shook his head with a grin, “I dream normal. YOU, however, dream pretty big. Creating artificial life, now, are we? I had a chat with a college friend of mine, and he was very excited about your work.”

“Tom and I. We're both working on it. It's OURS, not MINE.”

“Oh really?” he said in that innocent-but-not tone of all snake-oil salesmen around the world. “Walter seemed to be convinced that the plans themselves were Tom's idea, but I recognized your handiwork in them, and I set him straight.”

“Wha-- Walter Weisel?” How connected WAS this man?

“Don't worry about it,” he said, waving a dismissing hand. “I just want to see you get the credit you deserve, Al.” He laughed softly as he walked away, vanishing into the crowd like some sort of ghost. I stood there, trying to calm myself down for almost a minute after he was gone before I tried to get back to the table. As it was, I didn't feel hungry anymore.

20XX

“Credit where it is due,” I was saying, “Hard Man at least remembered to grab Top Man on the way out.”

“He was disabled before that big idiot grabbed him,” Shadow Man said with a sigh. “NOW look at him! It's like someone tried to crumple him up into a ball and throw him away.”

He wasn't wrong. Top Man had suffered some plasma burns at the hands of Bright Man, but a lot of the more physical damage had been sustained during our extraction from Cossack's vicinity. Repairing him was going to take some more time, which was at enough of a premium that I was doing that while meeting with a few of my more capable Robot Masters and doling out duties.

“Be that as it may, I'll have him back in working order before tomorrow,” I said. “What we have to do now is stall for time. The Book isn't going to just wait for me to make a move, they're going to have an insurance policy in place. Quick Man?”

“Yes, Lord Wily?” All of the DRWN series I Masters called me that. It was no small tribute to my ego, and I liked it enough not to care.

“You, Shadow Man, and Search Man are going to... and I can't even believe the words are coming out of my mouth... protect Dr. Light.”

Shadow Man and Quick Man looked at each other. “Um... come again, sir?” Shadow Man asked.

“You heard me,” I said sternly. “The Book has a list of well trained human assassins that could all take Tom by surprise and kill him with impunity, and Mega Man can't defend him against human assailants. So, your job is going to be to disable or, if necessary, KILL anyone who's after him until I'm ready.”

“Do we have to take Search Man?” Quick Man asked nervously. “He... they... um... it's complicated.”

“Search Man will give you two the firepower and tracking ability you two are going to need to pull this off,” I sighed. Like I said, making teams out of separate series didn't always work out, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Search Man could cover in areas where Quick Man and Shadow Man were lacking, namely in accuracy and ability to saturate areas with fire. However, Search Man was also good at hiding and waiting to strike, which basically any other high-firepower Robot Master in my roster would be incredibly bad at.

“When do you want us to leave, sir?” Shadow Man asked.

“As soon as possible,” I nodded. “Make sure you have everything you'll need. Search Man will need a few things from the storage bunker for a job like this. And under any circumstances, do NOT alert Mega Man to your presence.”

“That goes without saying,” Quick Man mumbled as the two of them filed out of the room. This left my with an audience of Magic Man (freshly back from his post in Africa), Tengu Man, Nitro Man, Napalm Man, and Freeze Man. They all stood at rough attention, waiting for their own orders while I was putting Top Man back together. Off to one side, as well, was Forte and his fellow Mega Man Killer Enker, who was just now up and about, albeit unarmed.

“As for the rest of you,” I began, “Shadow Man managed to steal a pretty interesting excavation module from Cossack's lab, and its just the thing I need for the Arctic Operation I had to suspend. Freeze Man, You'll be taking it, Cold Man, Frost Man and Chill Man back up there, extracting my prize and getting it back here with all haste. The automated assemblers should have the module done in about a half hour, and as soon as its in your hands, I want you there in the next ten minutes, understand?”

“Yes Master,” Freeze Man breathed.

“Magic Man, the rest of the VI series is still in Africa, right?”

“Yes sir,” he said, mimicking Shadow Man. Magic Man's sense of humor was... strange. Especially considering that I don't remember putting it there. He must have gotten some of it from Clown Man.

“I need you to help keep up appearances there, but I also need you to be on a hair trigger. When I call, you all need to come running, no more than fifteen minutes for a response time. Got it?”

“I'm pretty sure it'll take some sort of magic to make that happen,” he said. “Oh, wait...”

I sighed. “Just get it done. Tengu and Napalm, I need you to go get your brothers and get back here. Once the series III and V masters are all back in the bunker, I want you ALL in the Wreck Room and working hard. We're going to need to kick the automated assemblers into high gear to get everything ready, and there's a lot of scrap in there waiting to be processed.”

Tengu Man silently saluted and left immediately. I liked him for that. He didn't waste time. Napalm Man was a different story. “Um, Master Wily, are you sure-”

“Yes,” I growled. “I don't care if you and yours don't get along with the others, you WILL all work together on this or I will personally reprogram you all to be bird baths.”

“How would that even-” Naplam Man began.

“GO.” I shouted. He made his way out of the lab at speed, and I turned to look at Nitro Man. “I know the rest of your brothers are still being put back together, but once they're back in one piece, I need you guys in the Wreck Room as well.”

“Yes sir. Do you need anything specific from me?”

“Actually...” I said thoughtfully, and idea occurring, “yes. I'm going to need more raw materials. Hit up some of the old Fortress locations and see what you can scrounge up. Take the rest of the series IIs with you, and if any of them complain, tell them I said so.”

“Thank you, master,” he said, shifting into his motorcycle mode and leaving little skid marks on my floor as he left.

“Forte!” I barked. The black robot came forward lazily.

“What do you want me to do, old man?” He asked. He'd become a fairly disrespectful little snot in the last few months.

“Oversee the production or the DRCN series. I have the Master Templates loaded into the assembler, but I need a decent pair of eyes to make sure everything is going okay. I made some of those programming adjustments on the fly, and they may not like the idea of working for me if I messed up.” The idea of a freshly built Robot Master going a little crazy in my bunker right now might now threaten me personally, surrounded as I was with an army of loyal minions, but any damage to my facility would slow my progress and endanger both my timetable and Tom's life. More than it was already, I mean. I decided to throw him a bone. “If they DO act up, destroy them and try it again.”

He grinned a little, enjoying the idea of breaking something. “Okay.” he wandered off with his support unit, Gospel, close behind.

I returned to my work, getting Top Man's legs working again before a humbler voice spoke up. “Master Wily?” Enker asked. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Without his Spear, Enker wasn't much of a combatant. His feedback system, which channeled any harmful energy directed at him and back out in the form of his signature Mirror Buster used the Spear and its unique composition to both absorb and direct the energy, and without it he was a heavily armored target.

“Once Top Man is back up and running... or skating,” I said offhandedly, “you and I are going to go have a talk with someone and get you a new Spear.”

“I appreciate that,” Enker nodded, “but is there anything I can do in the mean time?”

I waved a hand. “See if you can reattach Punk's legs to his body, would you? The more of you Mega Man Killers I have when this thing goes down, the better life will be for me.”

“Yes sir,” he said brightly, feeling better for having a purpose. I didn't expect him to get very far, as the fine motor skills for working with robotics was not a part of his programming. Then again, I'd been surprised by my minions before, so hopefully Punk would be back on his feet (ha ha) before the end of the day.

We worked in silence for a while, and occasionally Enker would ask me a question I would answer or need something done for him due to the aforementioned lack of fine motor skills. It was almost calming, teaching one of my own creations how to do something I had done as easily as breathing for year. Eventually, Top Man came back online.

“It's Pha-” he said as he came back, operating off his abruptly deactivated memory. He looked around for a moment. “Um... hey, doc. What hit me?”

“Bright Man,” I told him. Enker snickered.

“Oh man... The others are gonna laugh at me...” he moped.

“I already am,” Enker put in with a grin. “I mean, come on... Bright Man?”

“He must have gotten the drop on me,” Top Man sighed, sitting up. “Some of us aren't armored so well the only way we die is to kill ourselves with our own weapon.”

“Shut up,” Enker grumbled.

“Top Man,” I sighed, commanding his attention. “Go get me something to eat, and then go find Nitro Man and give him a hand, okay?”

“Yes sir,” he nodded, jumping down from the workbench and skating off.

I stood up and stretched, listening to my back make a variety of sounds after being hunched over a table for a while. God, getting old was annoying. I checked up on Enker's progress, which was actually quite good, and made my way over to Ballade. Earlier, before talking to Mr. X, I had put together most of his body and was just down to the fine work of getting his weapons back online. I ended up fumbling around under the workbench for a moment to retrieve some of the smaller parts that had been knocked over earlier, causing me to curse Mr. X's name again.

“Why I ever let that guy into my Lab, I'll never know,” I sighed. I went back to work, bringing Ballade back online a little while later.

“Ow.”

“Yeah, he came out of no where, didn't he?” Enker spoke up.

“Seriously,” Ballade growled, sitting up, “What the hell? I was just minding my own business, doing my job, and BAM. Little blue midget of death, right behind me.”

“Top Man probably knows how you feel,” I commented, sliding back over to help Enker with Punk.

“What?”

“He got aced by Bright Man,” Enker explained.

“Oh. I'll have to laugh at him later,” Ballade said dryly. “So... now what's going on?”

“Master Wily is planning a big attack.”

“Who're we killing?” Ballade asked, his tone a little more upbeat now. He got off the table and flexed his various limbs to make sure everything was working correctly. This annoyed me, even if I knew it wasn't representative of a lack of faith in my work. Ballade was just... active. Like a high school quarterback.

“The Book of Revelations and their little attack dog Mr. X have decided Tom needs to be out of the picture for good,” I said. “This would get in the way of my planned revenge, so I'm taking it upon myself to fix the problem myself.”

“Wait, we're going after Dr. Light?” Ballade asked, nervousness creeping into his tone. “But I just got reactivated! I don't want to go up against Mega Man again!”

“Calm down, you sissy little girl,” I snapped. “Mega Man won't be an obstacle. Not even close.”

“Um... how?” Enker asked. “I've been meaning to ask you about that. I mean, if we go after Dr. Light, Mega Man is going to be a factor at some point.”

I smiled. I decided not to tell them that Mega Man was probably ALREADY on our trail. Cossack wouldn't have just sat in a corner and wept after our attack, and once he realized I'd grabbed his Master Templates, Tom would have been his first call, and Mega Man, goody-two-shoes idiot that he is, would have volunteered to hunt me down, just like he had the last ten times.

This time, however, things were different. “Boys, just trust me,” I told them with a grin. “I've never let you down before.”

There was a brief silence. “Sir, I've been dead... what, three times now? How is that NOT letting me down?” Ballade asked.

“Point taken,” I sighed. “Fine. If I DO let you down, I always pick you up again.” I thought about it for a moment. “Or at least collect the pieces and save them for when I need you later.”

“That... That was touching,” Enker said carefully, putting Punk's arm back in the socket. “Um... I think we're done?”

I turned and looked, appraising the work. Punk was, in fact, back into a single piece. I shrugged and activated him. Might as well have THREE meaningless voices in the room while I worked.

“HO!” Punk jolted his arms out to the side and kicked a leg into the air. “Son of a bitch! What the hell was that about?”

“I know, right?” Ballade grumbled.

“Why does everything look purple?” Punk asked.

“My bad,” Enker said.

“I'll fix it later,” I told them. “Look, we have an errand to run, and I want you guys to come with me to make this go faster, okay?”

“Where're we going?” Punk asked as he sat up.

“Shopping,” I told them. Enker smiled like a kid at Christmas.