Cel-I-AAA-3 had gotten the message from Nikita-V- FEM-4, the head of the MTA sector Romantics, to meet her at the MTA sector PLC Office of Vending Machine Resupply. As usual, four Orange level clerks were under siege by hundreds of low clearance clones demanding their dorm machines be resupplied. As usual, they ignored all requests by Reds and Infrareds, and only helped Oranges when bribed. However, they enthusiastically licked the boot of any Yellow or higher clone. Nikita-V-FEM-4's violet boots had achieved a nice glossy sheen when Cel-I-AAA-3 arrived. Nikita-V pulled Cel-I to one side. The noise drowned out their conversation. "Assemble a team of agents or arrange for a troubleshooter team. A funbot created for one of our high ranking members in the Armed Forces has gone renegade. It must be recovered, as it has been programmed full of Old Reckoning Knowlege scavenged from the Armed Forces Databanks, which could be very useful in my hands. It was last seen in MTA sector Armed Forces HQ in the chambers of General Shut-U-PPP-3. He is now fourteenth degree, so treat orders from him as you would from me. We suspect that either Death Leopard or Corpore Metal may be to blame. Or possibly Humanist saboteurs. And make sure the Frankenstein Destroyers don't get ahold of this funbot under ANY conditions." "Or it will likely cease to function." "Exactly. Okay, Q, you have your mission. Here's a Datchip with the rest of the information you will need." She passed a small electronic chip, concealed inside an algae chip to Cel-I-AAA. "Move out." "Yes, ma'am, M." She saluted and marched off. Time to see what's REALLY going on, she thought. ************** Bubblegum Complex The Story of the Trouble Sabres. #2 "Little Boy Lost." A Paranoia/BGC Fusion By John Biles *********** Sho-MTA-4 saw a shadow looming over him. He was a cute little brown haired boy, perfectly harmless if you weren't a bot. Priss-Y wasn't a bot. She was, instead, a fairly famous vid singer, noted for her songs 'Friend Computer Has a Thousand Eyes' and 'Hurr-I-CAN-3 TonightCycle'. Sho recognized her on sight. "Oh wow, they must have put really GOOD hallucinogens in lunch!" She laughed. "I heard you lost two of your clone brothers in the Clone Creche #35 riots." "Yeah." He sighed. "Sho 2 and 3 got killed." "I saw it on the news, so I thought I'd bring you a little consolation present." She handed him a little stuffed teacher bot with an axe in its head. "I thought this would cheer you up." "This is great!" He smiled. "You'll be my friend, won't you?" "That would be great, Sho. How would you like to be on a Vidshow some time?" He squealed so loudly that Clone Creche #56's automated security system assumed a riot was in process and tear-gassed the entire floor, just to be sure. *************** "They're doing WHAT to your dorm?" Linna-Y asked her friend Irene-Y, as they ate dinner together at the CPU Yellow Dining Hall. Irene-Y had gotten Linna in. "It's being bulldozed to make way for a new PLC Bot Brain Manufacturing site. The ROB sector PLC Bot Brain site was blown up by Commies and MTA sector PLC arranged for its replacement to be built in this sector." She sighed. "I'm going to go protest this to the guy in charge of this." "You know, you'll be lucky if he only has you demoted down to Orange clearance as punishment for annoying him." "If this doesn't get changed, I will have to go live in a shoebox. They haven't assigned us new housing due to some kind of snafu." Probably because it doesn't exist, Linna thought. "Look, we have an extra bunk in my dorm since my first clone sister died. We..." "I still have a full family. We need six bunks." Linna frowned. "He's a Violet! He can just shoot you if he feels like it!" "I have a clever plan." **************** Nene-O-NVA-1 and her friend Naok-O-MTA-2 were hard at work at the ADPolice (A special bot hunting division of the MTA sector Troubleshooters) switchboard. As hard as Nene could work with her arms in a cast. Due to a bureaucratic error, she had been sent back to work still injured from the exploding laser pistol barrel disaster in the previous episode, while Nene-O-NWA-1, whoever that was, was strapped to a bed, unable to move, while the docbots tried to figure out how a broken arm could look so healthy. "Hey, at least you got promoted," Naok-O said. "I've been doing this job for five years with no promotion." Nene boggled. "You've been a Troubleshooter for five years without losing a single clone?" "I've never gone on a single field mission. Six daycycles a weekcycle, I come to this office and field Com calls for ten hours. The other daycycle, I get sent to R&D for experiments I never remember. Though from what I've heard about R&D, I think I'm lucky to forget them." She shook her head. "I'm still sane and alive, so I should be happy." The voice of Friend Computer nearly gave them heart attacks. SO YOU'RE NOT HAPPY, CITIZEN? Naok-O's eyes widened. The Computer was always watching, but it usually didn't say much unless you went to a confession booth. "I...uh...errr..." Happiness was mandatory. Unhappiness was treason. She had a cold sinking feeling. I HEREBY SENTENCE YOU TO... "Please have mercy on her, Friend Computer! She means well, she's just stressed out!" Nene shouted. Silence. Everyone stared at her in shock. No one in their right mind interrupted Friend Computer. Rudeness was punishable by much, much worse than death. Such as permanent R&D volunteer test subject duty. A WEEK'S VACATION AT THE COMPULSORY RECREATION RESORT. A FIVE HUNDRED CREDIT BONUS FOR YOU TO SPEND THERE. AND A NEW HAT. Naok-O stared in shock. So did everyone else. Nene gave a sigh of relief. "Thank you friend Computer!" IN FACT...I FEEL GENEROUS. ALL OF YOU WILL REPORT IMMEDIATELY TO THE COMPULSORY RECREATION RESORT. YOU HAVE FIFTEEN MINUTECYCLES TO COMPLY. ANYONE WHO IS LATE WILL BE TERMINATED. The supervisor, Sand-Y-Dee-3, said, "But who will run ADPolice communications while we are gone?" FOURTEEN MINUTECYCLES. They ran. ******************** Brian-V-MSN-5, accompanied by four Green Level IntSec goons, walked down the steps of the MTA sector Bot Production and Distribution Facility. Normally, he would have simply taken the elevator to the parking garage, but apparently a group of Death Leopards had taken over the elevators again, and so he decided to dodge the firefight in progress. A mob of angry Yellows in CPU uniforms confronted him. At their head was Irene-Y-CNG-1 and a nervous woman in an armed forces uniform with no name tag. He used his head radio to order one of the greens to run a computer search on the nervous woman's identity. Irene said, "You're having our dorm leveled! We're here to protest!" He laughed. "As a simple check would have revealed, all the proper procedures were followed. It is not my fault that HPD&MC chose to divert its construction funds into building the Funbot Mark VI instead of building you a new dorm. Now, I'm busy, so if you'll excuse me..." He gestured at the guards to clear him a path. The woman, Irene, handed him a piece of paper. "I suggest you read this. It might change your mind." He ignored her and had the guards club him a path. Since he was feeling kindly towards the pathetic CPU employees, he told them to not use their handflamers. He stuffed the paper in his pocket. I'll read this later, when I need a good laugh, he thought. Within twenty minutes, he was home in his plush Violet clearance living quarters. He sat down at his terminal and jacked into it with his mildly treasonous nervejack. The report on the woman was waiting for him. Linna-Y-ASA-(2-6). Armed Forces Exercise Instructor. Certified Rank 18 in Martial Arts. Only Three Treason Points. Currently under consideration for promotion to Green Clearance and assignment to a commando squadron. Previous clone deceased in combot accident. Stays Crispy in Milk. We hate who you hate. He blinked at the last bit. Then he blinked again. Suspected Secret Society Affiliation: Covert IntSec Operative infiltrating Armed Forces. Brian's eyes widened. Could IntSec be on to me? No, I'm so close...once I make High Programmer, then we will be able to reshape this hell of a complex to how it SHOULD be! Major Known Associates: Irene-Y-CNG-(1-6), Flopsy the Petbot, Sar-G-EEE-(4-6) [Commanding Officer], Mama-Y- AMA-(3-6), Member-O-AMA-5, Wrestleman-I-AAA-(8- 10), Hulkste-R-GUY-4. His eyes widened. Someone on clones 8-10? That was impossible. No one had more than six clones. There was a secret here, he would have to uncover. Noises in the real world began to disturb his ability to focus. He pulled out the nerve jack and looked around. It sounded distinctly like someone was climbing his building. Well, it wasn't all HIS building, but the building he lived in. A few seconds later, a squadron of Blue level troopers kicked in his front door and opened fire, hosing down the suite with high explosives. He was blown to tiny bits, never having read the 'Permission to Use My Living Quarters for Armed Forces Maneuvers' Form in his pocket, rendering him unable to appreciate the expertise with which his tongue print and signature had been forged. Brian-V-MSN-6 in the adjacent suite was rather more lucky. He would only need a cyberarm. And some ice for the rage in his soul. *************** Tanya-B-HAR-2 was a member of HPD&MC's elite Ice Skating Entertainers. Right now, she was just annoyed. The Bouncy Bubble Beverage Vendingbot in her quarters was on the fritz. She knew how to deal with annoying bots. She took her handy crowbar to it, trying to pry the front open. It pelted her with cans at 200 MPH. Tanya-B-HAR-3 was nearby, and she saw the bot was looking for her, so she dove for cover and used her Com Unit to call the MTA sector Troubleshooters for help. Ring. Ring. Ring. Strangely, no one was answering the phone. Shouting "I'm Blue Clearance! Pick up or I'll send you to the Termination Center like I did for Ker-I-GAN- 1!" Actually, she'd only injured Ker-I-GAN-(1-6)'s knees. It had been an incompetent docbot that had done for Ker- I-GAN-1, who had then been convicted posthumously of treason for failure to survive medical procedures and terminated again. The shouting didn't get her any help. It DID alert the out of control vending bot to her location. Once it finished serving her, it headed out to find the rest of her clones and serve them with extreme prejudice too. *********** Leon-B and Daley-B were out of the hospital. Excellent Blue Level Medical Care had them up and out patrolling the autocar routes. Oddly, they hadn't gotten any calls from HQ in hours. Daley-B said, "Should we check in?" "Probably." Twenty minutes later they called in. And in. And in. No answer. No answer. Still no answer. "We'd better check in at HQ." Leon-B sighed. "Right." He turned to head for HQ, taking a side street to Highway 42. ************* Cel-I-AAA-3 frowned. "Where's Nene?" Priss-Y shrugged. "If she isn't here, she can't lock up my suit with an ECM shell." Mack-Y said, "The ADPolice Comm staff got sent to the Compulsory Recreation Resort. For the next week." Linna-Y said, "What are we after, anyway?" "A funbot named Bart-MTA," Cel-I-AAA-3 said. "He looks like a blond Junior Citizen with spikey hair." "A Junior Power Services Club member?" Linna-Y asked. "More or less." She pulled down a screen, and a hidden camera began projecting onto it. "He was last seen going down this dumbwaiter. We also have some footage of him running out onto Highway 42. We'll begin our sweep there. I was counting on Nene to hack into the appropriate records, but...Mack-Y. Your job is to get Nene out of the Compulsory Recreation Resort. We only need one Nene. Use Jackobot #3." He frowned and leaned back in his chair. "Are you SURE that holoprojector is reliable?" "Well, unless you have an unrevealed mutation to change shape, we don't have too many other options." "Yes, ma'am." ***************** Normally, Brian-V-MSN-6 would never have done something as menial as driving a dozerbot. For Irene-Y- CNG's dorm, he would make an exception. Watching the building be leveled was satisfying, though not as satisfying as driving over the chain of clones who had tried to link arms and stop him had been. Hordes of infrareds and red level workers surrounded him. He had offered a 500 credit bonus per worker if the new facility could be ready in a week. It had to be. His future was riding on it. He contacted Mad-I-GAN-2 with his head radio. [Any progress on locating this Wrestleman-I-AAA person?] [No, but we did find a cache of Old Reckoning Yellow Clearance food. However we had to terminate the tester when we discovered it had Ultraviolet filling.] He grinned. Perfect. [Ship them all to the following coordinates.] Ahh, the glory of catching 'traitors'. It smelled like asphalt. And right now, he was greatly liking that smell. When he drove the dozerbot into a huge puddle of it and began to sink, he wasn't quite so fond of it. ******************** Mack-Y-STN-2 had spent quite a while trying to think of how he was going to smuggle in Jackobot #3 in Nene mode. The personality chip seemed to work quite well, and the holobelt was working flawlessly. Given that there were more people with concurrent KKK and Black Panther memberships than the number of R&D devices that actually worked without flaw, this scared him. Obviously, something awful AND undetectable was going on. When the Jackobot glommed onto his arm, he felt an unaccustomed thrill run through him. For Mack-Y, life in Bubblegum Complex was often a living hell. He had two mutations. The first was that he had X-ray vision. The second one, however, made him immune to hormone suppressants. He was a raging bundle of hormones with no way to control them or get relief. It had its advantages. With his power and with the usual Bubblegum Complex disregard of gender in housing, bathing, dressing, and undressing arrangements, it was easy to see women naked. He could leer all he wanted, and people usually just thought he was constipated. Until he had leered at the wrong citizen. Macky-R- STN-1 had been leering through a wall at Ireland-I-KAT- 4. He had made two discoveries that day. One, she had X-Ray vision too. Secondly, she was not on hormone suppressants anymore. She had taken him as her lover, and arranged his promotion to first Orange, then Yellow Clearance. Unfortunately, an Indigo, Horn-I-GUY-4, had his eyes on Ireland-I-KAT-4. He also was a high ranking PLC executive in MTA sector. He arranged for the scrubbot sent to Mack-Y's quarters to kill every clone in the place one by one by filling them with cleaning fluid. Mack-Y-STN-1 had drowned. #2 was saved only by the arrival of a heavily armed Indigo who blew the scrubbot away. That was Cel-I-AAA-5. She had offered him the chance to get even, and he took it. However, Ireland-I-KAT-4 had moved on to some fellow, Jonclaud-V-DAM-3 in the Armed Forces, and now he was girlfriendless. He contemplated slipping off with the Jackobot for a little whoopie, but he wasn't THAT horny, and it wasn't that anatomically correct, anyway. Why is it glomping onto me?, he wondered. The doors of the Compulsory Recreation Resort were looming closer. He could hear faint happy music coming, and started to hum gleefully. He couldn't help himself. Subliminals, he thought. Or maybe just a good tune. A gentle breeze from a nearby event gave him a good idea. Using his X-Ray Vision, he scanned the nearby air-conditioning ducts and found one leading to the large room full of sand that the CPU clerks were in. One end of the room was full of water, the other end was a long strip of sand with tables holding food and drink, and lots of yellow and orange blankets, some of which had stretched out, relaxing clones lying on them. Many of the other clones were playing volleyball, and a few were wading in the water, though they seemed confused as to what it was for. He spotted Nene-O-NVA-1 over in the volleyball game. That was the moment at which he realized how the clones were dressed. Scantily. They were wearing flimsy strips of cloth around their upper chests, and very short shorts around their hips and groin. While the 50 or so male clones did nothing for him, the rest were about to send him into a state of hyperdrooling, to the point where he was almost needing to register THAT as a mutation. ************ Leon-B spotted a Junior Citizen running back and forth across Highway 42, disrupting traffic. Autocars were wildly swerving to avoid him. This wasn't too different from normal Bubblegum Complex driving standards, but it was just enough to start wrecking vehicles. "The net gun?" Leon-B asked. "The net gun." Daley-B punched the button and a net fired from the front of their patrol Autocar, snaring the junior citizen and dragging him along at only forty or so miles an hour alongside the vehicle. They were surprised he was still conscious when they reeled him in. "Who are you, Junior Citizen?" "I'm Bart! Who the hell are you?" "My name is Officer Leon-B-NIC-1 of IntSec. I'm in the department of Junior Citizen Termination." Bart fell VERY silent. Daley-B laughed. "Do you say that to all the Junior Citizens?" "Only the obnoxious ones." "That was a joke?" Bart asked. "Actually, I'm in charge of Junior Citizen Torture." MORE silence. "So what Clone Creche are you from?" Daley-B asked with his soothing voice. There was a faint smell of soft perfume in the air, and roses began to appear everywhere. His teeth glinted brightly. Leon-B quietly ignored the mutation that was treasonous for his partner to have. It was a little harder to ignore the odd impulses he felt. Only watching Priss-Y on her vid appearances normally gave him this odd feeling, except for one time when he'd seen Nene-R naked after a bomb blast. "What's a Clone Creche?" Bart asked. "Where you live." "I live with Home-R-SIM, Lisa-SIM, Ma-R-GEE, and Bab-Y-SIM." "So you're Bart-SIM?" Daley-B asked. "Sure, sounds good to me." "Let's check in at HQ, then we can send the kid back to SIM sector." "Cool. Are we gonna bust some commie mutant traitors? Can I shoot one? Can we run the siren, huh?" Leon-B grinned. "Let's." They put the siren on and used the laser headlights to MAKE SURE the traffic got out of their way. ************* As Mack-Y-STN-3 drove them across the sector Cel- I-AAA-3 was busy at a portable terminal, trying to get any news of where the funbot might be, and Priss-Y and Linna-Y watched the Smothe-R Brothers Variety Hour on the portable vidscreen. Priss-Y was laughing her head off, while Linna-Y didn't find it to be very funny. She couldn't figure out why, either. Normally, she laughed her head off at this show. Cel-I-AAA-3 glanced up and asked, "How are those experimental subliminal blocking lenses I asked you to test coming along?" "They made my eyes hurt, so I'm not wearing them," Priss-Y said. "As far as I can tell, they aren't doing anything," Linna said. "Unless they've killed my sense of humor." Given she had once tested an experimental R&D weapon that had turned her left leg green for a week, with the result that she almost got terminated for treason, it wouldn't surprise her if putting little lenses in her eyes caused her to lose her sense of humor. "Well, I suppose we need a control subject, anyway." Cel-I-AAA-3 went back to her hacking, wishing Cel-I-AAA-5 was handy, since she was a much better hacker. "A what?" Priss-Y asked. "What's a control subject?" "When you conduct experiments on live subjects, typically, you have one group which actually receives no treatment, but is told that it is being treated, in order to see how much of a placebo effect is present and to tell how many simply get better or don't change." "What?" "You're not cleared for this information, Priss-Y." Now THAT was something Priss-Y was used to. ************** The ADPolice Communications room was devoid of life. This in itself wouldn't have surprised Leon-B and Daley-B. They'd seen mass terminations of an entire office before, but normally there would at least be smoking boots. All the radios were beeping, waiting for someone to pick up on incoming calls. LOTS of incoming calls. Bart said, "Hey, can I make a phone call?" "Sure. Feel free to call your creche and tell them we found you. Daley, you keep an eye on the kid and try and answer a few of these calls. I'll go talk to Todo-I- MTA-5 and see what's up." Leon-B said. Daley went to work, ignoring Bart for the most part. Bart went to work too. ************* Cheeri-O-MTA-3 punched in the ADPolice number again. Dinner was turning into a bloodbath. They had to answer. Surely they couldn't tell her clearance before she even spoke in order to know who to ignore. Finally, a young male voice answered. "Yo, this is ADPolice HQ. Got Milk?" "What?" She shook her head. "We've got an out of control menuselectorbot. It's trying to kill everyone who doesn't pick Hot Fun. We need help!" "Sure thing, babe. Just kick it. That's what Dad always does when the TV goes on the fritz." She blinked. "I just have to kick it?" "If that doesn't work, call a repairman." "It's trying to KILL people!" "Yeah, yeah, that's what everyone says in order to get the repairman to come out. Dad even ambushed the repairman one time, just to get him to believe it." "Who are you?" "Officer Bart-U-SIM-1." She gulped. "Yes sir, Mr. High Programmer. I'll just kick it." Amazingly, kicking it actually worked. Sure, it fell on her and squashed her flat, but everyone else was able to eat in peace. ************ Mack-Y-STN-2 had really intended to fulfil his mission, but the opportunity to join a horde of cavorting half-naked clones was too much for him. With effort, he was able to restrain himself from drooling. It was easy to reconfigure the holobelt to put the Nene Jackobot into a bathingsuit. He himself simply bluffed the guard and got himself a set of togs. He was busy putting 'suntan oil' on the back of Naok-Y-MTA-4 and Nene-O-NVA-3 when Cel-I-AAA-3 hailed him through his tiny experimental ear radio. Making an excuse, he slipped off to the little 'outhouse' and activated his fake tooth that was actually a microphone. "What's up?" "How is your mission going?" "I'm trying to figure out how to enter the resort." "We need Nene NOW!" Cel-I-AAA-3 snapped loudly. "There's been no sign of the funbot, and we need to find it." There was an insistent banging on the door. "Come out! We need to use the hygiene room!" a male clone shouted. He whispered, "Signal...breaking up." He made staticky noises into the mike. "I'm not stupid." *Bang*, *Bang*, *Bang*. The fists got more insistent. "Open the door NOW!" He made more staticky noises and then headed out of the hygiene room. He sidled over to Nene-1, getting ready to go ahead and tell her. I'll just stay here, he thought. In case we have to send in her next clone. Yeah, Cel-I-AAA will be pleased by my foresight. Certainly he was pleased by all the vistas greeting his normal sight. Just as Nene was about to slip out the door, someone said, "Hey, there are SEVEN Nenes here! One of them is an imposter!" Oops, Mack-Y thought. ************** Chief Todo-I-MTA-5 said to Leon-B, "Yes, Friend Computer sent the entire communications staff on vacation. For two weekcycles. So I'm assigning you and Daley to run the radios." He boggled. "ALONE?" "Call in your clone brothers. I would assign more officers, but you're handy, and everyone else is dealing with the usual crises." "Can't we call in some troubleshooters from the other branches of MTA Troubleshooters? Or some more IntSec?" "Another Giant Radioactive Communist attacked TKO sector again, and all our other troubleshooters have joined the massive Task Force X sent to hunt it down and kill it." He sighed. "We're undermanned, but the bots are running wild as usual." "Another one of those firebreathing green scaly communists?" Todo noded. "Wait, isn't Task Force X usually a slang word for a suicide squad? Like a Code 7 mission?" "Until Phil-V-ATZ-4 gets permission to recruit more Troubleshooters, ADPolice is going to have to meet all the Troubleshooter needs of this sector. That should only take a few weekcycles." Leon-B banged his fist on the table. "Why did the Computer send our entire Comm staff on VACATION then?" ARE YOU QUESTIONING MY JUDGEMENT, CITIZEN? Leon nearly jumped out of his flesh. He thought Chief Todo had deactivated the Computer monitor cameras, microphones, and speakers in his office. "N...no...I just...didn't...understand." "Hello, Friend Computer. I see the maintenance crew from Tech Services did a good job fixing all the broken equipment here. You're coming in bright and clear." THEY NEEDED A VACATION. THEY APPRECIATED MY WISDOM. "I...um...I'm sorry." Leon-B fell to his knees and began to grovel. It took a lot of groveling to appease Friend Computer. If the Computer had boots, they would have shone like the Chrysler building. *************** All seven Nenes were herded into the middle of the beach. Since none of them were wearing name tags, the clone, Torenada-Y-MTA-4, who had spotted the seven Nenes said, "Identify your clone number!" "Three." "Five." "Two." "One." "Four." "Two." "Six." The two #2s turned and pointed at each other. "You're an imposter!" They said in unison. "A fake!" Every accusation came in unison. Finally, Six-O-ONE-1, a junior clone said, "So it looks like what we have to determine, is who is the new Number Two." Nene-O-NVA-2 was very worried. "Friend Computer!" Friend Computer was always good to her. He'd know who the fake was. Silence. "Cas-O-NVA-2 knocked the camera down with a beachball a few hours ago, Nene," Naok-Y-MTA-3 said. "So, he's in cahoots with the traitor Nene imposter!" Torenada-Y said. "Let's beat it out of him!" Amazingly, Cas-O-NVA-2 sustained his cries of innocence to the point of unconsciousness. Clearly he was a well trained traitor. Mack-Y grinned. "I have an idea. I'm a trained expert in detecting Communist imposters. The method only works on females, however. So all the women will have to form a line." They did. "Okay, this will seem strange to you, but the detector is built into my tongue. Another R&D device." He shrugged. "You know how whacko they can be, right?" Torenada-Y nodded. "They blew up my third clone brother, trying to make him test rocket skates. Are you SURE this thing works?" "Yes. That's how I made it to Yellow Clearance. I found a traitor in Power Services with it. He had been electrocuting CPU members who wouldn't pay him protection money." He paused to mentally pat himself on the back for his own cleverness. His audience was making faces. They felt the horror. "Basically, we have to perform a thing called 'kissing'. Part of the process requires I read your tongue tattoo with my reader to get the positive ID." Everyone had a tongue tattoo which contained essential information and provided an identification code which tongue readers used to access your computer records. Many sensitive areas required you to first stick your tongue in a tongue reader to gain access. This only rarely resulted in tongue damage, certainly not above an acceptable level of 5%. Soon, Mack-Y was in heaven on Earth. *************** Cel-I-AAA-3 took some Calmy, Calmy, Don't Kill Your Neighbor pills to relax herself. Mack-Y-2 was not responding, and they had been cruising for hours, looking futilely for a funbot that could be in any of 2000000000000000000 locations. Plus, Priss-Y was now watching Tymfor-O-PRA-2's talk show, which was starting to cause Cel-I-AAA's brain cells to die. Linna-Y was doing jumping jacks in her sleep. Just as the urge to commit clonicide was reaching its peak, the channel changed to Gerald-O, roving reporter for HPD&MC news with a special report, 'Crisis at the ADPolice Comm Center'. {Gerald-O-1 did the voiceover. "We're live at MTA sector ADPolice Comm Central, the place which receives and handles all reports of rampaging bots in MTA sector, noted for the highest rate of bot-induced deaths in Bubblegum Complex, only three dedicated staffers have not gone on vacation for two weeks. These three dedicated clones and their clone siblings face an average of twenty calls per minute. So how well are things going? Gerald-O- RIV-2, 3, and 4 are on location at Comm Central. Let's hear their report."} {Gerald-O-RIV-2 had his microphone shoved in Leon's face. "So, is the stress starting to get to you? How soon do you think you'll snap and just killing and killing and killing until you're kneedeep in blood?"} {Leon tried to ignore him. "Yes, Ma'am. Three rampaging combots? We'll..."} {Gerald-O-RIV-2 grabbed the microphone. "Hey, I'm trying to interview the man. WAIT IN LINE." Pause. "Oh, hello, Major Body-B-AGG-3. Who is this? Leon-B- NIC-3." Leon shot him with his Blue laser, and Gerald-O staggered back, gasping. "Freedom of the Press! The people want to...know." Thunk. He fell to the floor.} {Leon-B-NIC-1 frowned at him. "Stop faking. I set it on stun." He turned to the phone again. "That was Gerald-O-RIV-2. Yes, the one who did the special on Armed Forces mistakes. Oh, you want me to shoot him?" He clicked the safety off his gun, and Gerald-O demonstrated his mutant power: teleportation. } {Gerald-O-RIV-3 was with Daley-B. #4, however, was with an odd Junior Citizen, with spikey blonde hair. "What's your name, little boy?" he asked.} {The boy ignored him, speaking into the phone. "We have a Code 52, rampaging Menuselectorbots in the #34 and #38 cafeterias, and someone's put Prince Edward in a can." Pause. "So you need to let him out." Pause. "You Greens have no sense of humor." Pause. "Who am I? I'm Bart-U-SIM-1. Who the hell are you?" Pause. "Sure, but only one of you need shoot yourself to appease me. I'm a merciful god." Pause. "Merciful High Programmer. And bring me some Butterfingers." Pause. "No, don't put butter on your fingers and chop them off. The candy." Pause. "I hereby clear you to know what candy is."} Priss-Y boggled. "A high programmer is filling in for vacationing Oranges and Yellows? How'd a Junior Citizen get to be a High Programmer and where do I sign up?" Linna-Y started to wake up. "I get to be a High Programmer? What?" Cel-I-AAA stared. "That's no High Programmer! That's the renegade Funbot!" Priss-Y stared, then frowned. "Maybe all the High Programmers are funbots! We're being ruled by stinking metallic monstrosities that eat people's souls for fuel!" She began waving her arms wildly as she became more animated. "Filthy beasts! We have to kill them! KILL ALL THE HIGH PROGRAMMERS!" Cel-I-AAA took a handy hypospray and sedated Priss, who slumped into Linna-Y's arms. "Suit up." "Can we do this without Priss?" "Remind me to have Mack-Y terminated for treason after this. No Nene either." Mack-Y-MTA-3's voice cut in. "Hey, I'm doing MY job!" "Well, soon you'll get to be the Boss Mack-Y." "Hmm...can I use the title Mack-Y Daddy?" Linna-Y was confused as to why Cel-I-AAA began to bang her head against the side of the truck. ************** Even Mack-Y-STN-2 could only kiss so many women before he got tired. They just couldn't measure up to Ireland-I-KAT-4. He did whisper the message to Nene-1 that she needed to slip off, which she did while the other clones were distracted. Just to amuse himself, he then taught the men to perform the procedure, and soon everyone was kissing, while looking thoroughly confused. The string of treason accusations that then began flying everywhere lasted long enough to make sure no one noticed they were back down to six Nenes for hours. ***************** Linna-Y and Cel-I nearly fell down when Mack-Y slammed the brakes on. "Whaddya do that for?" Linna shouted. The backdoor opened and a bikini-clad Nene-O- NVA-1 hopped in. "Sorry about that. Mack-Y kinda botched telling me you needed me. Now he's busy testing everyone for treason." Cel-I-AAA started to ask, then thought a moment and said, "With his 'tongue treason detector'?" "Yeah." "Rule 13 now states, 'No pretending you have an R&D device that doesn't exist, just to get some nookie. '" "Some what?" Linna asked. "I'm afraid you're not cleared to know what nookie is." "Then how can we know if we're breaking the rule?" "Trust me, you won't accidentally try to get nookie. Unless maybe if you hang around Mack-Y too much." ************** The lights went out in ADPolice Comm Central. In most situations, this would have lead to panic, mass accusations of treason, and a bloodbath. However, the phones kept ringing, so all the Leon-Bs, the Daley-Bs, and Bart kept answering phones. Sure, they misdirected a few calls, but that was better than the luck most people had with ADPolice Comm Central when it was fully staffed. Sure, Car 54 was now lost, but that was its usual state. Three awake, and one groggy Sabre crept into the room. Sabre-Violet swept the room with her infrared sight, as did the others. "Problem." She used her radio, of course. "I'm not picking up that DAMN bot," Sabre-Blue said. Sabre-Violet sighed. "It's room temperature. Blends into the air." Sabre-Ultraviolet blinked. "Hmm. I thought it was built to pass for human. It should show up on infrared." "How many times a day do they check YOU for body heat?" Linna-Y asked. "Every day when I report to work." "Ever passed the test?" Priss-Y mumbled, trying to clear the fuzz in her head. Five Combots rolled into the room. "We've been sent to relieve you two blues." "Hey, I'm a High Programmer! What about me?" It was a boy's voice in the dark. "We're taking you to DUF sector," one of them said. "Alright! BEER!" Leon-B said, "Good. Do any of you have a head light, so we can see to get out?" The five combots clicked on their lights, revealing four Sabres standing by the opposite door. For a moment, all was silent, then all the Leons and Daleys said, "A High Programmer!" The combots were huge, humanoid metal torsos, with treads beneath, each six armed, with various weapons in hand, and a monitor for a head. Sabre Ultraviolet gave a quick sigh of relief. She stepped forward, "I'm taking the Junior Citizen into my care." "I'm a High Programmer! I don't need a babysitter." Leon-B said, "You are NOT a High Programmer! Who told you that?" "I don't need this! I'm outta here!" He turned to run and a combot snagged him. Sabre Ultraviolet said, "Bot, I command you to turn him over to me as a High Programmer." "We can't." Combot #34 said. "We have orders to take him to DUF sector to...drink beer." "Yeah! Take me to the beer!" Bart cheered. "I am overriding your orders." Sabre Ultraviolet's voice was calm. "The Second Law states that..." "Were your orders given by a High Programmer?" "No, but..." The Combot sounded perplexed. Verbal argument was not its strongpoint. "Bri..." Combot #65 clonked him in the head. "He's had too much high grade motor oil today. We received our orders from a High Programmer. He's having a flashback to when he used to be a Chefbot. He made Brie all the time." "Yeah, Brie. That's the ticket." "What High Programmer?" Combot #34 said, "Our boss in Corp..." He got another clonk in the head from #65. "He meant Carp. Another cooking flashback. He wouldn't say who he was." "More recent orders take priority." The Combots all twitched. "But we really need to take him." "Why?" "So we can get the secret information he possesses and the power he controls," Combot #34 said. "Then we can destroy all the fleshlings that are corrupting our complex with their inefficiency." Combot #65 sounded desperate. "Now he's flashing back to his days as a scrubbot. He..uh...oh stuff it. DEATH TO THE FLESHLINGS! CORPORE METAL RULES!" They all began firing cone rifle shells and lasers everywhere, turning out their lights. Several things happened at once. Sabre Green began to laugh maniacally, shouting, "DEATH TO CORPORE METAL! FRANKENSTEIN DESTROYERS RULE!" In four seconds, she used up all of her slugthrower shells, chopping two combots in half and blowing the lower left arm off #65. All the Daley-Bs fled out the doors, heading for the armory. The Leon-Bs grinned in unison and all fired at combot #56789.3. Every shot hit its fusion reactor, which began to melt down. Sabre Violet jammed all the communications lines. Most of the people calling in couldn't tell the difference, anyway. Sabre Green leapt towards Combot #34 and whipped her ribbons around, severing its limbs, then jumped away. Sabre Ultraviolet now jumped forward, grabbed Bart, then leaped away. She crashed through the ceiling, which she misjudged in the darkness, landing inside a CPU clerk's office. He was playing 'Intsec Trooper Rampage' instead of working. When he saw her, he fainted from fear. Bart struggled to get loose. "Video game...MUST PLAY VIDEO GAME!" #65 fired its remaining weaponry at Sabre Blue, blasting her through a wall, while #45 filled the room with Tear Gas. Leon-Bs 1-6 blew #45 to bits, then quietly collapsed, choking and coughing, but somehow managing to look cool even while puking. Not a mutation, just a knack. Sabre Violet fired her gauss gun at #65, which began to spazz as its brain fritzed. "Dave...what are you doing...Dave...I'm dead...Dave." Bzzztcrackle. Sabre Green sliced off more of its arms as Sabre Blue said, "Now you DIE!" She jumped forward and leveled her slugthrower arm at its head. Click. Out of ammo. It thrust out one of its two remaining arms and grabbed her by the neck, beginning to squeeze, while the other blasted wildly with an Ultraviolet laser, sending Sabre Green and Violet diving for cover. "Now...you...I think that I would never see, a poem as lovely as a flea..." #65 tried to concentrate through the brain-scrambling Gauss attack. "Heh. I have a laser too, now!" She opened fire with the blue laser. The shot bounced off his shiny exterior, plugging Sabre Green, who cursed. "Dammit, I'm getting SICK OF THIS!" She blinked. "Hey, even that ADPolice idiot was blowing you people up with a Blue Laser! Why doesn't mine work?" "Unlike these lazy dead bots, I polish myself daily. Hard for reflec armor to work with caked on grease and dirt over it." He popped out a short highly articulated arm. It held a can of Combot Polish. "This stuff is great. Having contacts in PLC really does help. And I always thought politicking was for idiots. You know, this reminds me of the time I was on guard duty in tunnel #45..." Rambling is a common problem for Combots shot with gauss guns. Sabre Green terminated him with a green laser beam into the compartment he had opened to show off the polish. He screamed, dropped Sabre Blue, then klonked over. "I'm dead..." "Didn't you already do that bit?" Sabre Blue asked. "Oh yeah." The lights in his eyes went out. She stomped on his head, 'just to be sure'. Fifty times. Sabre Ultraviolet dropped back down through the hole. "Let's go." "You'd better let me go," Bart said. "Or you'll what? Try to impale us with your hair?" Sabre Blue asked. "Use my mutant powers to obliterate you!" "Bots don't have mutant powers." Sabre Violet said. "I'll hold my breath until I turn blue." "Bots don't have to breathe," Sabre Ultraviolet said. "I'll tell you stories about my dad." By the time he was done, they were wishing they'd not talking him out of using his 'mutant powers' on them. ************** They didn't get far. Fifteen more combots showed up on the way to the truck. And six berserk docbots. And a giant Wombot. And five secretarybots armed with forms, hoping to papercut their targets to death. Sabre Blue said, "Is this funbot REALLY worth this? Are you this bored, Sabre Ultraviolet?" "It has important information," Sabre Ultraviolet said. "Important for our quest for revenge on Quinc-U." "Does it have any slugthrower rounds?" The bots were closing in. "Remind me to triple the size of your ammunition magazines after this." Sabre Ultraviolet sighed. "Follow my lead!" She popped out her laser sword and began carving a path through the bots down a side tunnel. The rest of the Trouble Sabers followed. ************** Mack-Y-3 fed directions to navigate through the maze of tunnels in the lower levels of MTA sector Troubleshooters HQ. "Okay, now go left. Right. Left again. Okay, lemme call up the map of the next area." The words [DELETED FOR SECURITY REASONS] came up on the terminal. "Uh oh." **************** MTA Sector Troubleshooter Headquarters has moved many times in its career, most notably after The Great Traitor Bake of '29, which ended with noted mutant Genocybe-R-GAL-1 using her 'spontaneously explode in nuclear flames' mutation to blow up the entire headquarters and most of HKG sector as well. HKG sector used to be adjacent to MTA sector. They're still rebuilding it, four year cycles later. Meanwhile the Troubleshooters were moved into an unfinished experimental Compulsory Recreation Resort. The parts they weren't using were fenced off and classified Blue Clearance. A minor Computer virus reclassified it as an Ultraviolet zone, and since then, it sat unoccupied. It was for this reason that the map of the entire zone was classified higher even than CEL-I-AAA's clearance, which Mack-Y was using for his hacking. The zone was not unoccupied, however, for several bots had been left behind, bored and lonely, inside the sealed off zone. They were about to become very happy, or at least unable to suffer loneliness very, very soon. ************* The Sabres recognized the room when they entered it. How could they not? Every Junior Citizen of their age class had watched the same educational programs. One of them had been 'Barn-I and Fellow Citizens', the adventures of an Indigo class registered mutant, who led Junior Citizens in song and dance, songs like, 'I love the Computer and it loves we', and 'Death to Nasty Commies'. This room bore a frightening resemblence to the Junior Citizen Creche from which the show had been broadcast daily. For all the Sabres knew, maybe it was. And there was Barn-I-DSR-1 himself, a huge nine foot tall purple humanoid with scaly skin, huge teeth and a deranged smile. He started when he saw the intruders, then smiled. "Howdy, happy funtime!" He bounced over to them. Sabre-Ultraviolet said, "Can you tell us where we are?" He must be a bot, she thought. I heard the original Barn-I was convicted of treason and terminated after he was discovered to have the unregistered mutant power of turning brains to mush, she thought. "Welcome to Barn-I's funhouse! We're going to have scrumdelicious yummy happy fun now! Let's play, let's pretend! I can see you're already in your costumes!" He looked them up and down. Sabre Blue snarled. "Look, you stupid bot, we just need to know how to get out of here!" Barn-I ignored her and turned to Sabre Violet, drawing a happy face on her front visor with a small red crayon he produced from somewhere. "Come and dance with me!" Music started up and he began to do the mashed potato with her. Things went downhill from there. ************** Brian-V-MSN-6 frowned. "So you idiots lost it." "I'm afraid due to being reduced to slag we were unable to give chase," Combot #65 said. "We weren't expecting the Spanish Inquisition." Brian blinked. "What?" "Sorry sir, my brain is still glitched from that gauss weapon." Brian turned to the other combots. "Do you have anything to say for yourselves?" "I'm the only one with any functional output modes, except for #34, whose tickertape device is still working." Combot #65 would have shrugged if he had any functional limbs left or any shoulders. "Tickertape...never mind. I don't want to know. Any idea at least where they went?" "Into that Compulsory Recreation Resort that got condemned due to unacceptable casualties, I think." Brian boggled. 90% was an acceptable casualty rate for such resorts. He tried to think if he had anything suitable. "Too small for Warbots?" "Not without attracting too much attention." He thought a moment. "Flood the entire resort with cyanide." Silence. "Well, do it!" "Sir, I'm not armed with cyanide. Also, I can't move. My treads were destroyed." Brian-V-MSN thought, I knew that. ************** Barn-I had been built well. Even Sabre Green's monofilament whip couldn't cut him. Ultraviolet lasers and laser swords bounced off. Sabre Blue beat him with a stick, but that didn't help. When Sabre Violet tried to hack into his brain using her special bot brain control cables, she discovered he didn't have a brain. How he was functioning was beyond human comprehension, since Bubblegum Complex, having no religion, also lacked the concept of demons. Well, there were the nuts who worshipped the Computer, but they believed in viruses, rather than demons. Only the fact that her suit was powered armor kept Sabre Violet from collapsing from exhaustion from doing the Mashed Potato and Swing. Just as everyone's nerves stretched to the breaking point, Bart said, "This is boring. I'm outta here!" He took off running. The Sabres, except for Sabre Violet, took off after him. The last they saw of Sabre Violet was her shouting, "Don't leeeeaaaavvveeee me!" *************** The Sabres chased Bart through room after room. They crossed sets modeled after 'Six is Company', 'Gill-I- GAN's Island', 'Eight is Treasonous' and 'Daycycles of Our Lives'. As they chased Bart round and round a table at which sat an ugly bot droning on about the philosophical ramifications of quasi-reverential neo-existentialist dada in the light of logical positivistic thought about quasi- romantic revivalism in the neo-renaissance of the Hebertist period of Early Hungarian Underwater Cabinetmaking, the room began to flood with a reddish gas. This would have killed most people, but them most people don't wear environmentally sealed hardsuits. It did, however, make it difficult to see, and x-ray vision was NOT part of the hardsuit technology. In the fog, Bart managed to scramble into a duct, and the Sabres had to crawl through it after him. **************** Mack-Y checked the map. He radioed Sabre Ultraviolet. "I have good news and bad news." "What's the good news?" "The duct you're currently in dead ends at a huge filter. That should trap him." "What's the bad news?" "The filter is intended to keep toxic fumes from the sector nuclear reactor from spilling into the air-conditioning. It's heavily radioactive. Your electronics may suffer. Also, a stray shot could destroy the filter and suck you into the exhaust shaft." Sabre Ultraviolet said, "What kind of whacko connected the air-conditioning to the reactor exhaust shaft?" "Apparently it was a good source of additional hot air during the winter to warm the complex." Sabre Ultraviolet made a note to find out who arranged this so she could have the shaft connected to their living quarters somehow. ************** Bart was trapped and he knew it. But he also knew how to fix that. Bart didn't fully understand his own identity, which wavered between knowing he was a bot and thinking he was the character he was modeled after. One thing he retained in both identities was knowing how to unlock the special device installed in him. He just viewed it differently. "Get back or I'll use my mutant power!" "Didn't you already try this?" Sabre Blue sounded very irritated. "Can't I bash him up at least a LITTLE, Sabre Ultraviolet?" "I'll use my real power! I'd forgotten about it!" Sabre Ultraviolet frowned. He might not be bluffing. It was clear that his Asimov circuits had been removed or at least damaged. "And what power is that?" "I call down lightning from heaven!" Sabre Ultraviolet didn't believe in heaven. Clearly delusional, she thought. She stepped forward. "Look, you're coming with us." She thought a moment. "We'll give you beer." "I don't believe you!" There wasn't enough space to call the lightning safely, he realized. Then he realized the filter behind him was mostly just pink fuzzy stuff in a wire mesh. The mesh was pretty wide; it would stop a full grown person, but not a 'kid' like himself, so he turned and burrowed into it. "Stop!" Sabre Ultraviolet rushed forward, along with the others. They tried to reach through the frame and grabbed him. There was a wrenching noise and the filter broke lose from the wall, as it had been only taped into place due to a budget shortage on screws. The entire filter toppled into the reactor exhaust shaft, plummeting out of sight. Alarms began to blare. Sabre Blue said, "Please tell me we don't have to go down after him." "We don't have to go down after him." Sabre Blue gave a sigh of relief. "We DO have to run for our lives in case it melts down." Given that Bubblegum Complex's reactors often melt down because someone looked at them funny, it was no surprise that the trio set a land speed record for the 1000 yard dash in the next few seconds. **************** The failure of the reactor to melt down, destroying the entire sector, was unanticipated, but quite welcome, unlike most surprises in Bubblegum Complex. As a result, all of the Sabres made it back to their debriefing alive, although they had to give one of Mack-Y's clones to Barn-I to get Sabre Violet away from it. Cel-I-AAA ruled it to be an appropriate punishment for Mack-Y-2's violation of Rule 13. Priss-Y was depressed. "What a flop of a mission. I didn't even get to toast the bot." "Well, at least the information won't fall into the wrong hands," Cel-I-AAA said. "And we learned some valuable information on hardsuit weaknesses, so now I can upgrade your suits." "All's well, that ends well, eh?" Linna said. "Any mission where you don't die is a success." They nodded in unison. BGComplex clones were good at doing things that way.