The Business of War

Orchestrated By C.M. Rich (Magnetman)

Senator Keigle's War Journal

By Raijin

"Wake up, my friend."

"Uhh?"

"I suppose that's as much of a greeting as someone in your condition is capable of."

"What...what happened?"

"Oh, you don't remember?"

"I...I don't remember anything..."

"Well, I suppose that's for the best. You would need the room, for what he wants you to do."

"What? Who?"

"Who indeed? That's going to be the number one question for you from now on...

...

"What? Why? What are you-"

"Ah, I see he is complete."

...

Wait, I remember now. I am...

"Perhaps if you allowed me ...

...

"You think he will help?"

...

I will make them.

"How gracious of you, master."

...

We'll keep it between you and me, alright? He is giving you to me, after all.

Belongs to me...

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"Keigle! Ya still with us?"

Lee Keigle was suddenly aware he had been staring at the bottom of his glass for some time. It seemed he was doing that a lot lately, ever since the War started. Nothing like evil robots rampaging the streets across the world to give someone nightmares, but his didn't seem to let up even when he was awake.

Keigle sighed and looked to his shoulder. Richard Malcolms was sitting on the barstool next to his, holding an empty glass and looking frustrated and exhausted. A quick glance around the rest of the VIP room confirmed that it was getting late, and many of his fellow lawmakers and other officials had left for the night. It was a popular time to be drowning their sorrows, but the patrons of this bar still had responsibilities that weighed on them at all times, especially now.

"Sorry 'bout that." Keigle mumbled. "Guess you're heading off."

"Eh. One more." Malcolms gestured to the bartender. "So what's on yer mind now? Ya look like ya killed a man."

"Huh?" He took note of his reflection in the mirror behind the bar. He was wearing a heavy downcast expression. His pallid jowls seemed to melt off his face. His eyes expressed a hollow fear that cried out for a hidden shame. Keigle watched the face in the mirror with nervous fascination, as he felt somehow disconnected from it. Next to him, the slightly thinner, younger, but still as unattractively decrepit as anyone else in Washington Board Chairman Malcolms wore a different kind of tortured mask. He too looked as if the weight of the world was threatening to crush him, but he faced it bitterly and angrily. All the colour that had escaped from Keigle's skin seemed to flow into his, the alcohol and frustration combining to give him a slightly flushed glow. He wavered and twitched every now and then in his stool, contrasting with Keigle's own stone-like hunched posture. The large Senator wasn't sure how they could have been drinking together for the last few hours and yet he didn't feel half as drunk as Malcolms looked.

"I said...ya look like ya killed a man." Malcolms repeated, not sure if Keigle heard him the first time, even though it was rather quiet in the bar at that moment.

"Uh...hrm...maybe I did..."

"Nooo, no no! Don' gimme that. Y'oughta be proud, old man. Yer Shutdown Code's the best thing that ever happened to this world. And that...Mega Man doesn' count as a 'man', nor does it count in any way as 'killing'."

"Ah. Yes, certainly." Keigle placated his acquaintance. They certainly shared the same view of robotics, though Keigle was being bothered by something else. "It's just that...I've been letting my imagination get carried away lately. Maybe I just haven't been getting enough sleep. I'm starting to dream everywhere I go."

"Oh, you'll get over it." Malcolms muttered, not interested in listening to someone describe their nightmares. He tried to change the subject. "Look, I know this Shutdown Act isn't being enforced as much as it should. That's just this War nonsense. If it weren't for those Scissor jackasses marching around, wreaking havoc, every metalhead in the world would be chipped up and ready ta go already. Besides, we've gotten our fair share of victories already. We've reeled in some new recruits, and the code is keeping them in line."

Keigle shook his head solemnly. "Hm. There haven't been many actual Shutdowns since Megaman though. Well, there were quite a few in those battles involving the Cossack's Comrades..."

Malcolms frowned. "Hey! We're still fine-tuning the security. Yer proposal didn' give us much ta work with in practice, remember. The mass-shutdown problem has already been taken care of. The control pads 're more than jus' DNA-reactive now. There's no way a metalhead can get anywhere near hacking the new versions. 'Course, if the RPD can't properly defend their Watchers, then maybe they deserve ta get shut down by the enemy."

"I heard they used a dead man's hands as gloves..." Keigle recalled cryptically. It drew a wince from the bartender a few feet away.

"Exactly why we can't take any chances with those monsters."

"Yes. Hard to see how Dr.Light can still endorse them when they do such hideous things."

Malcolms snickered. "Speakin' of Light, didja hear the RPD got a call from his other 'son' the other day? I think it's lovely that Protoman was about to sell out his own 'father' to the people that killed his own 'brother'! Bots an' their supposed humanity, eh?"

Keigle let out an amused grunt in response. "Hmph. Well, that Protoman is a complex guy, not to mention elusive. He would have thought there was a way to exploit the RPD at no loss to himself. Besides, even if we did catch him, I doubt he actually had recent contact with Light."

"Oh really?" Malcolms was intrigued. "How d'ya figure?"

"Protoman likes to keep to himself." Keigle explained. "He doesn't even see his own family all that much. He keeps tabs on them, watches from the shadows, and helps them when they're in danger, or at least he tries to. He's often too late to make much of a difference. In fact, when Light was kidnapped—by a Protoman impersonator no less, it took until Megaman finally tracked down the impostor for him to catch up. That red fool is probably tracking down Light himself right now."

"Geez, how'd ya get to be such an expert on Protoman?" Malcolms scoffed.

Keigle opened his mouth, about to give a straightforward, obvious answer, but it didn't come to him. How did he know that about Protoman? It seemed like common knowledge, but it occurred to him he had barely heard anything about Protoman until recently.

Keigle got up, drawing a questioning look from his colleague. "Just have to use the rest room." He explained before walking towards the hallway in the back.

--------------------

Once in the bathroom, Keigle looked around to make sure he was alone, then proceeded to lean over the sink, staring intently at his face in the mirror again. Why did it still look so alien? What face was he expecting? There was an incessant buzzing in the back of him mind that was growing steadily louder. What was that sound? There was something eerily familiar about it.

No, it wasn't a sound, it was several sounds, all on top of one another.

Voices?

out the trash I’ve saved the biggest piece for last you know I don't remember anything well I suppose that's for the best you would need the room

Keigle ran the water in the sink and began splashing his face, rubbing the cool moisture into his eyes. It didn't make him feel any better, he didn't even expect it too, but what else could he do? He was a captive audience for whatever madness was being forced upon him. It was more than just these noises right now. He found it hard to concentrate on any one thing as his thoughts darted from one thing to the next without warning. One moment he wanted to go home and get a good night's rest, the next he wanted nothing more than to forgo sleep and haunt the night. Was he despairing for the loss of his sanity, or finding it hysterical? It took all his mental effort to keep his own mind from wandering.

done anything to hurt hurts too much them I swear to whatever higher power power of a god might hold sway here that you’ll what ah I see he is complete not the word I would use

The nightmares, the sounds, it all began with the War. No, they began a bit before it, but he wasn't as concerned back then. It was like this ever since he came up with the Shutdown Code, or was it even before that? He definitely didn't have to deal with these strange thoughts before that. He had such an easy life; wealthy family with a history in politics, excellent grades in school, law degree with a minor in mechanical engineering, never the most popular kid due to his weight problem, but quickly respected in the professional world for his innovative solutions, and if anything, he was sane.

you think he will help my friends so they appreciate me as much as you want him to I believe I will give him to you he needs you stupid enough to show trouble of

So why now? Why did his head feel like it was going to explode? Why was he having so many bizarre thoughts, recalling non-existant memories, hearing voices, of all things? Was it really guilt over the Shutdown Act? How? He had never felt anything for robots, and even if something was just eating away at his conscience, why was the effect so terrifyingly unnatural? He was a lawyer for nineteen years and a politician for eleven, he had done plenty of things for his career that could weigh heavily on the soul of a more scrupulous man, so why would this one act cause such anguish and calamity? It was an invitable step forward in robotic relations, and arguably right. He didn't have to try hard to tell himself that.

always over put you all down shut up not alive you will not be save them from my must say it is adorable keep it between you and me belongs to me Keigle ya still

He became more and more frightened as the cacophonous, unintelligible chatter in his mind grew ever louder, but nothing unnerved him more than the one voice that eventually rose above the din so he could hear it.

How are you doing, my friend? The shrill whisper was soft yet somehow spoke clearer than any of the other screams and cries.

"Who are you? I...I know that voice." Keigle's face snapped up from the sink to look in the mirror. For a second he could swear there was a hideous skull in place of his face before the water dripped down and revealed his original visage, yet oddly fixed in a wide-eyed, toothy grin.

I should hope so. You do belong to me, after all.

"What's going on? Leave me alone!" he was stumbling back from the sink now, still watching his unnaturally grinning face in the mirror. The world seemed to go grey.

You're not handling things as well as I expected you to. Aren't you supposed to be a genius of sorts? Hm? Professor?

What was the voice talking about? He was never a professor of any kind. Sure he had a degree...no wait, he called himself by that title once as a joke. When was that? Was it when he was still in college? He was very smart too. Or was he stupid? No, he only pretended to be stupid sometimes to make people like him. Or did he? That didn't even make sense.

There you go, you seem to have trouble keeping one memory separate from another. That's not good for you. It must be very confusing.

Keigle gaped in horror when he saw his grinning reflection seem to lean forward out of the mirror and move over him. At this point he was sure he was going to suffer another heart attack. The last time something frightened him so much he was in the hospital for a week. However in spite of his age and condition, he remained concious and subject to this terrible vision.

What confuses me is that I could swear I got rid of all those unnecessary memories for you, but they seem to come back on their own. What a bother. Well a good spring cleaning every now and then could always help.

Keigle shivered and whimpered. He could now feel an invisible hand patting his bald head.

After all, we certainly can't have you breaking down like this in public, can we? If everyone knew the truth about you, then this War would be over much too quickly, and nobody wants that.

"Wha-wha-what do you-"

Wake up, my friend

Keigle found himself staring back at his own reflection. The sink was running. How long had he been there? The water was steaming. Figuring his hands were clean enough, he turned off the faucet and looked back at his reflection once more. Tie was straight, combover as decent as it could get, fly was up, apparently he was ready to go.

At that moment Malcolms walked in and made a beeline for the urinal "Keigle. Ya still in here? Geez, thought ya went home."

Had he really been in there for a long time? Keigle wondered. He remembered coming into the bathroom, relieving himself, and then washing his hands. He must have been staring at himself in the mirror lost in thought for a few minutes. He sighed when he realized this, things like that had been happening more and more since the War began.

"I think I will go home Rick. I'll see you around."

"Aren't ya gonna wait for me? My driver's giving you a ride." Malcolms called back from the urinal as Keigle started to head out.

"That's alright. I think I'll walk."

"Geez, you're pretty fit after a night of drinkin', old timer."

Good point. He was feeling pretty well for someone who had a heart attack just a couple of years ago. For a second he thought he had another one just recently, but with his memory failing him, he eventually wrote it off to déjà vu. All he cared about was that for now, despite the War, things were going well for him, and he felt at peace.

--------------------

and it makes sense no sense where they are spring cleaning still not alive always ohhh professor because I can make go down stop it shut up

Keigle rubbed his head feverishly as he stewed in his seat in the gallery at the United Nations, waiting for the session to begin. It was still about half an hour to go and the chamber was mostly empty. With the ravages of the War rapidly approaching their backyard, some of the invited politicians and ambassadors were too afraid to even step outside much less come to work though. Keigle knew he had to be there though. Keeping busy was the only thing keeping him sane any more.

The jumbled voices had returned with a vengeance. At first he thought he was hearing them for the first time, but as time went on he started to remember things he shouldn't have. This frightening feeling was so familiar and new at the same time. He seemed to recall the experience went away as soon as it came each time, but it was so much worse now. What did it mean?

"Mr.Keigle! How splendid to see you again!"

Keigle nearly jumped out of his skin when he looked up to see the marred visage of the cheerful man greeting him. He had a split-second flashback to a skull-like face he had once seen in a mirror but he quickly forced it out of his mind. The face before him was certainly human, but the scars and bruises decorating it made it difficult to look at. Despite the man's barely-healed wounds and uncomfortable-looking neck brace, he seemed to be in the highest of spirits.

Keigle collected himself, hoping the real conversation would help drown out the invisible crowd. "Ahem, yes, you too, Mister...that is to say...I'm sorry, are you all right? I mean, what happ-...Sorry, I'm not sure I..." Keigle stammered trying to find the right thing to say. It was harder to concentrate than he thought.

The man chuckled as he sat down beside him. "That's all right, I don't blame you for not recognizing me like this. I'm Hugo Jorgunsson, the Senator from Norway that worked with you on the Shutdown Act."

"Ah yes, Mr.Jorgunsson. You're looking we-er...how are you doing-er feeling?" Keigle responded, still uneased by the combination of inner voices and his associate's appearance.

"Hmph, it was one of those damn Robots, naturally. One of the ones on 'our side' no less! Attacked me with no provocation! At least robots like that have the code, so you can bet she got what was coming to her!" Hugo rasped, growing noticably less upbeat as he recalled the painful incident.

"Oh, well, I hope you're feeling better...soon...er, what brings you here, exactly?"

"Ah, they've invited me and some of the other international Shutdown pushers to the session so we can discuss what to do about this sudden 'rebellion'. What about you, I hear the Senators around here have been dropping like flies lately."

"Er, that's not quite how it's been. It's just hard for some to concentrate on economic and interior issues when the Scissor Army is so close. A meeting like this is really only for those most concerned with the War..."

Hugo was becoming more fervent. "Well, nothing is more important than getting these metalheads in line! I say if there are robots going berserk in our own territories we should just shut them all down and be done with it!"

Keigle sighed. "It's not that simple. Many of the affected robots are the RPD's own forces. If we just shut them all down then we'll be left more vulnerable than ever. As long as they're out of control they're still attacking the enemy forces as well. We need to figure out how to bring them to their senses without killing them."

"Killing?! Unbelievable! I never thought you of all people would talk about those soulless things like they're alive! I admired you because I thought we were of like mind!"

Keigle wasn't sure what "like" his mind was of any more. Too many conflicting memories flooded his thoughts even now. "I'm j-just saying...we...the RPD...We need the robots on our side to...to fight the ones that aren't. The Shutdown principle only works for...s-mall-scale rebellions. What's happening now...too massive..."

Jorgunsson chuckled, "Heh, like the 'Shutdown principle' was ever supposed to 'work' in their favor."

"W-what!? What does that mean?!" Keigle could feel his chest tightening.

Hugo looked puzzled. "What? You know I hate relying on robots. I'm just saying we need to find a way to fight for ourselves again!"

Keigle was confused. "So...what does that have to do with the Shutdown principle...not working?"

"Huh? I never said anything about that, you did!"

"You said...wait, what did you say?"

"Are you all right Lee? You look like you could make them all see the truth inscribed in blood on the wall."

"I...what!?"

"I said you look like you could use a rest! Go lie down before you have a heart attack!"

"Ah? But you...I thought...bah! I'm fine!" It was partially true. Despite the feeling in his chest, he knew he was perfectly healthy. There were so many times in the past few days when he felt a heart attack coming on and it never did. It was as if he was invincible. If only his state of mind were so sturdy.

Hugo was looking worried now though, as if he wasn't the one whose face was recently rearranged. "Are you sure? You don't look well at all."

misery than that voice belongs to me wake up my friend what my brother should have trust me cannot see me am not the real

"You're muttering, Lee...What was that?"

ally you called you am not correct dead man's hands they’re all dead I arranged for my friends

"Just go away! Get away from me! Leave me alone!"

Keigle didn't even realize he shouted out loud. He looked up in a moment of fleeting clarity to see Jorgunsson backing away from him nervously. Other delegates nearby were staring at him awkwardly. He was less concerned about that than he was about the discordant chorus in his head that didn't make any sense.

Because somehow, it was starting to make sense.

All the words that passed through his memory too fleeting to be considered or understood, but one central theme rose above it all, and it frightened him.

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