The Megaman War:
Part 1 - Whistle in the Wind

By Hadrian (Hardman) Howell

Chapter 2: Rude Awakening

Rock Volnutt’s eyes cracked open, immediately feeling the sting of unfamiliar liquid against his eyes. He shut them again, opening them more slowly. His head throbbed and his eyes stung, but through it all, he could barely make out the shape of a man through the blue liquid he felt himself floating in. A mask over his face allowed him to breathe easily, but his entire body hurt, aching with a sort of constant fire that was not at all soothed by the cool blue liquid that surrounded him.

The man noticed he was awake and leaned toward some indecipherable object. A speaker near Rock’s ears blasted a new wave of apocalyptic, pulsating pain into Rock’s head. “I see you are awake,” the kindly voice repeated once Rock could actually hear him.

The boy in the liquid managed a noncommital grunt into his oxygen mask. Dr. Light leaned back in his chair and drew the microphone closer to him. “How do you feel?”

“Like a street,” the boy managed.

“Given that you come from New Detroit, I’m sure that’s a local colloquialism for ‘I feel like hell.’” The doctor chuckled slightly.

“New... Detroit...?” croaked the raw voice.

Dr. Light shook his head. Some amount of memory loss has been expected as a result of the trauma to the body. At least this one was coherent. When his first test subject had awakened the first time, he’d only been able to manage a broken amalgamation of Japanese, German, Spanish, and Latin for a period of three weeks. This, technically, should have been impossible, as his first test subject hadn’t KNOWN these languages before the process started, but Dr. Light had long since learned not to question the capabilities of the human mind.

He picked up a clipboard with some standard questions on it. “Can you tell me your name?” he asked, slowly, into the microphone.

There was a telling silence from the body in the tube.

“Okay, never mind, we’ll come back to that...” Dr. Light sighed and glanced down the clipboard. He decided against asking anything else. “I understand you’re probably feeling a lot of pain right now. Please don’t be alarmed, as this is normal...” even Dr. Light admitted that this sounded pretty stupid when said aloud.

“Please relax while I explain what has happened to you,” Dr. Light watched the shape in the tube for any visual sign of relaxation. When none were shown, he continued anyway. “You are currently in a Bio Tank. Right now, thousands upon thousands of microorganisms are zipping around in the blue liquid, accelerating the healing rate of your various tissues and extremities. Completely non toxic, with the added effect that you’ll have an overall increase recovery rate from things like paper cuts and minor bruises, to say nothing of broken limbs and the like...”

There was something of a groan through the speaker that Thomas Light chose to ignore. “You’ll notice a more localized pain in your hands and forearms, as well as your feet and shin areas. This is perfectly normal as a result of the interface implants which will, if the System successfully meshes with your nervous system, allow you to use the Armor.”

“...Armor...?”

“Don’t worry about it right now,” Dr. Light said hurriedly , continuing, “You’ll be in there for about two more hours before you’ll be removed. After that, we’ll put the Armor on you and put you into the Diagnosis Tank for a period of thirty hours which you may want to sleep through. One the thirty hour diagnosis period is up, we’ll be able to run some standard field and equipment tests. Any questions?”

Rock managed to find enough of his voice to ask “Why am I here?”

Dr. Light blinked a few times, mentally shoving a small, celebrating part of his conscience into the back of his mind as he numbly hit the all-too-worn button to release the sleep toxin into the boy’s body.

Sighing, his head spinning with moral dilemmas, he turned in his chair to the work bench beside him. Unlike the table that was stained with Rock’s blood where he’d performed the invasive surgery the boy was now recovering from, this table was stainless steel, clean, and loaded with what anyone else might mistake as robotics equipment. It was, but that was besides the point.

Utilizing the contact points Dr. Light had just ‘installed’ in Rock, the Armor would react to his own impulses and aid him in any of his endeavors, least of all combat. Thomas Light had improved on his previous design, and this new set of Armor, painted a soothing shade of blue, would let Rock jump higher, run faster, lift heavier things, and if the parts for Acceleration Booster Jet came in, allow him to even fly for limited times. The only limitation on this Armor was a lack of in-built weapons, but Dr. Light decided against them for energy efficiency reasons. He hadn’t been lying about the two hour lithium battery when he’d briefed the White House earlier that week What he hadn’t told them was that the two hour operation time was only two full hours if all the user did was walk around and use basic motor functions. Using some of the Armor’s advanced features, like the A.B.J., would cut into the battery life, making combat a risky proposition. Dr. Light had managed to determine that, at this point, an in-built weapon, like the prototype Plasma Rifle he’d come up with, would reduce the operational time from two hours to ten minutes...

This all depended, of course, on Rock’s nervous system successfully integrating with the System. If that didn’t work, he’d have to go back to square one again...

It was about twenty minutes later that a large security agent came in with a box marked ‘Dangerous: Do Not Drop,’ and Dr. Light smiled, his mind thankful for the distraction of installing the Acceleration Booster Jet...

Dr. Wily had sectioned his lab off. Behind some hastily constructed walls, he scribbled away of schematics and graph paper like a man possessed, while the lab technicians would occasionally, hesitantly, ask him for help or clarification on some procedure they didn’t understand. While Dr. Wily was fully confident in his own creation, he’d latched onto Dr. Light’s own idea like a hobbyist, and had come up with several designs with specific functions instead of the general purpose unit Dr. Light planned on creating. Maybe when Dr. Wily next saw the Suits at the White House, he’d present them with HIS version of Dr. Light’s ‘System,’ and steal HIS funding as well... It was amazing how the US Government seemed so eager to fund his efforts to achieve his ultimate goal... Ah, but that was a long way away. No need to rush. Pace yourself, that was the key...

Reggae entered Dr. Wily’s makeshift office and coughed politely for attention. “About a fourth of the gold has been melted down, Dr. Wily.”

“Hmm?” the German scientist said distractedly from his desk. Then he look up. “Vat... AH! Yes. Very good. Carry on, mein friend!”He returned to scribbling and writing.

Reggae stood there for a second and coughed again. “Er... we have no idea what to do next, sir...”

Albert Wily stood up, still writing, and made it almost all the way around his desk before he dropped his pen. “Vell zen, I suppose you vill be vanting ze next step of ze instructions zen, yes?”

“Er... yes.”

The scientist lead his assistant back out into the lab proper and made his way through the stumped interns to a large pot of boiling gold. He looked it over carefully, and dipped a finger in it experimentally. Unlike many other metals, gold has a very low melting point, but it is also a very good conductor of electricity, which made it perfect for his creation’s design...

Wiping the liquid off with a handy towel, he picked up a large syringe all the lab technicians had been too nervous to touch, and dipped the needle in the gold, drawing in about a gallon of the priceless bubbling liquid. Carefully, he made his way to one of the tables where the clear substance sat in a small mound. It looked almost like glass, but was rubbery to the touch and very malleable. With a small grin, Dr. Wily stabbed the glob with the syringe.

The glob wobbled a bit, and slid off the table, totally undamaged by the needle. This elicited a few involuntary chuckles from the various lab technicians. Dr. Wily’s eye twitched. He stabbed at the glob on the floor, but again, it wobbled under the assault a slid out of the way. With a shriek of rage, the German scientist dived for the glob, but it slid away from him like a greased pig. The laughter rippled across the room until Dr. Wily stood up.

“Oh, so you zink zis is funny? Der laugh riot, am I?” He swung the syringe dangerously, some gold dripping onto the floor. The laughter stopped as he stabbed a finger at the crowd. “You und YOU und ezpescially YOU! You vill hold ze construct in place vhile I stab it with ze needle. If you are lucky, I might NOT miss.” The chosen lab technicians shuffled forward and, with some difficulty, managed to grab separate areas of the glob and hold it steady. Carefully, Dr. Wily slid the needle inside the glob and emptied the contents into the glob. When he was finished, the gold sat in the center of the glob, with about five inches of the glass-like substance on every side.

Grinning, Albert Wily turned and handed the syringe to Reggae. “Fill all of ze globs until zere is about un inch of ze construct on every facet. Ven zat is done, und ONLY ven zat is done, you will bozzer me again. If necessary, melt down more gold.” With that, the German scientist swept back into his ramshackle office as Reggae started giving suggestions to the other lab technicians.

Clearing the scribbles and draft ideas from his desk, Dr. Wily opened a small black box and brought out a sphere about the size of a bowling ball, and about twice as heavy. With a groaning thud, he placed the ball on his desk, rolled it around a little to find the access panel, and opened it up to make some adjustments. So far, his plan was working perfectly, but he’d need to do a thorough field test before he could move on to the next phase of his scheme. And there was also the matter of requisitioning Dr. Light’s laboratory, no doubt already outfitted with the equipment and supplies necessary, for his own brand of research into Dr. Light’s field of biological alteration...

It was at this point that Dr. Wily couldn’t resist chuckling, ever so slightly, to himself.

Rock only moved sluggishly as he was extracted from the Bio Tank by a pair of the more physically fit security guards. They waited patiently as Dr. Light secured the Armor to the various points on Rock’s body, and then helped the good doctor put Rock into the Diagnosis Tank before leaving. As Dr. Light set up the series of programs which would test Rock’s level on integration, both with the Armor and the System, he stretched out his tired limb. He was going on his 34th hour straight, and figured that the 30 hour Diagnosis Period was a wonderful chance to catch up on the incredible amount of missed sleep he’d suffered from for the past few months.

Dr. Light threw one last cursory glance over the suggested arms and armaments list again. A standard, two sided combat knife was stored in each of the bulky leg segments, which also held shock absorbers and powered compressors to allow for jumping to and falling from greater heights than the normal limits of the human body would allow. The ‘Belt’ at the waist of the armor had high powered magnetic clamps that could be activated or deactivated subconsciously. These clamps could hold back up weapons like pistols, grappling hooks, or other such equipment. Located in the chest plate of the armor was the relay system, which handled all of the processing and power needs of the armor. On the back of the chest plate, hidden beneath the A.B.J.’s bulky, bullet-like form, was the casing for the lithium battery and the various recharge ports. The helmet’s HUD and TAG systems would automatically analyze any weapon held in the hands of the armor, compensate for any inaccuracy issues, and provide consistently solid firing solutions, even in the heat of combat. Each gauntlet had a neural-pneumatic system inside of it that would enhance manual dexterity and add far more power to physical attacks, while the whole assembly would boost the strength and speed of the wearer. The suggested main weapon, prior to testing, was a single handed ‘Buster’ class rifle, which fired high speed, hollow point slugs at the rate of about three shots per second on full auto.

Dr. Light made a mental note to update the TAG programming to account for a weapon held in each hand, which would, supposedly, double the user’s combat effectiveness, and nodded off in his chair. Snoring soon followed.

Ignorant to all of this, Roll Casket lay on he bed in her night shirt, staring at her ceiling fan, which was trying in vain to beat the nearly oppressive city-night heat. She lay there, on arm on her forehead, the other stroking her cat, Tango, absentmindedly. As the gray and orange tabby purred under her touch, she couldn’t help but worry about Rock. Something was horribly wrong, she could feel it. She almost felt as if she didn’t want to see Rock again, because she somehow knew that he wouldn’t be the same person anymore. She’d almost FELT a change in her world happen when she discovered Rock was missing.

A tear rolled down her cheek. Ever since school, they’d been there for each other. When Rock’s parents had died, Roll’s family had taken him in until the two of them had moved to New Detroit. They’d lived together for a while as friends, and then Rock got his own apartment, closer to his job. They always thought of each other as siblings, but Roll couldn’t help but wonder, sometimes, what the other road would have looked like...

“Please,” she whispered in the humid darkness, “be safe...”