"I really do
not like bloody big robots messing up my town,"
Joseph Dodgson remarked with distaste, his arms
folded by his back and his spectacles balanced
precariously upon the bridge of his nose.
"Independent reports from both Greenwich and
Rudloe Manor confirm that this is the same robot that
showed up in Docklands, sir," called the dark
haired girl from one of the Abbey's three occupied
terminals.
"Marvellous," he sighed, drawing his phone
out of his jacket pocket and dialling in a short
series of digits, "Any idea if this is going to
be a reoccurring deal or what?"
Seated behind him, Hoodwink narrowed his eyes and
cleaned his whiskers with a paw.
"If it is, we certainly can't rely on the
fortuitous intervention of a foreign team to resolve
the situation," the cat remarked sourly.
"Tell me about it!" Dodgson exclaimed
bitterly, "I got my ears chewed off by both the
bloody Prime Minster and the bleeding Yanks over that
one! Speaking of which, Gabby, love, do we even know
who those guys were?"
The dark haired, bespectacled girl in the red jacket
turned towards him, opening her mouth, but swiftly,
Dodgson raised a finger, turning away for a moment.
"Flavius," he said into the phone,
"There's a robot in my town again."
'I take it this robot is not a guest of your colonial
descendants then, chief,' the old soldier's voice
spoke up through the phone, resounding through the
cramped confines of the Abbey and causing the three
administration officers to smile quietly to
themselves.
Dodgson put a hand over the phone.
"Don't encourage him," he hissed, smiling
himself as he removed his hand, "Sorry there,
friend Flavius, we appear to be having some kind of
communications problem. In answer, however, to your
earlier question, no, the robot is not a guest of the
Americans, despite its dialectical inflections. That
makes it fair game. Make sure you get rid of it
quickly, the last thing I want is have to spend
another painful three hours in a confined space with
the PM."
'Ah, the Prime Minister has quite the bite, so I
hear,' the Roman remarked with such clarity that
Dodgson could hear the smile on his lips.
"That's what you get for electing former
imperial tyrants as the head of a democratic
government, I guess. But I digress; make sure you get
rid of that robot, ASAP. That way, you'll get to
avoid having to spend three hours in a confined space
with me as I decide to pass the vitriol down the
chain of command."
'I'm on it, chief. Flavius Furius Aquila, out,'
responded the voice.
The line went dead and Joseph Dodgson closed the
phone with a sigh.
"I'm sure he never used to have such a bad sense
of humour."
* * *
Eagle Kaiser swooped downwards, the dome and spire of
St. Paul's cathedral before him and, beyond that,
Ludgate Circus.
Momentarily removing his gloved hand from the right
control yoke, Flavius reached out and hastily
hammered a code into the nearest keyboard. On the
central screen before him a series of targeting
diagrams appeared, augmenting the flashing statistics
and the image of the giant, black triangular shaped
robot as it stomped loudly towards the city's twin
beating hearts of finance and government.
The totemic eagle head of his craft opened its mouth
wide and, with a slight feeling of guilt as to the
increase in council tax he was about to cause; the
old soldier took hold of the right stick once more
and depressed the trigger.
A jet of fire shot out from the craft's mouth and
splashed across the giant robot's head and chest,
engulfing it and spreading to the surrounding
buildings in a wave of heat.
"Woah, dude, that freaking burns!" the
vast, triangular robot protested, its paint
blistering and its shoulders still alight,
"Those Robo-dudes never breathed fire at me or
anything! What's up with that?"
The machine reached out with a hefty hand, swatting
at Eagle Kaiser as it passed but deftly, Flavius
pulled back on the sticks, carrying the craft higher
into the clouds.
Displaying the scene below, he watched as the
powerful Lion Kaiser darted onwards through abandoned
streets, its feet slamming against the stone below as
it weaved between obstacles and dove forwards, its
head bowed.
The head of the giant leonine craft slammed hard into
the giant robot's chest, sending it staggering
backwards, crushing cars beneath its feet.
"Dude, that is not cool! I'm going to have to
get nasty with you now and you know this!"
The robot steadied itself, tightening its fists and
looking from the snarling lion to the emerging shape
of Dolphin Kaiser as it flew steadily through the air
above the crowded London streets towards the scene of
the conflict.
The old soldier turned his craft amongst the clouds
and pale skies, angling down towards the shape of the
vast construct and preparing for a second attack.
Abruptly, he moved his thumb away from the trigger
mechanism, his eyes fixed upon the shape of a
sprinting figure, face hidden by a balaclava and
clothed in a simple black uniform much like the ones
worn by the three pilots of the Kaiser Machines.
Swiftly he reached out, ejecting his phone from the
central console before him, flipping it open and
swiftly thumbing the number etched into his mind by
familiarity.
"Fait, there appears to be a rogue agent heading
for that robot - apprehend him!" the Roman
commanded.
'Hail Caesar,' the former French actress replied,
hanging up before Flavius could respond.
On the screen before him, he noticed as the canopy of
Dolphin Kaiser's head popped open and a young woman
with bobbed hair leapt out and down onto the pavement
below.
* * *
He sprinted forwards, his arms pumping at his sides
as his heavy, military issue boots hammered the
stones at his feet.
Beneath his balaclava, a film of sweat clung to his
forehead, his hair damp and his body itching from the
exertion. Upon his right wrist, he wore the untested
Eternity Changer, liberated from the guarded remnants
of the Earth Defence/Leadership Directorate only days
previously.
His continued presence in London had been
unnecessary, a habit brought on by dedication to his
superior's orders. Yet it was not in his nature to be
anything less than thorough and he would have hated
to have left the sprawling, disorganised metropolis
without at least attempting to gauge the abilities
and powers of the fabled Lundunaborg protectorate
that had caused such a revival of imperialist feeling
within the city.
He watched as a lithe, female form leapt down from
the cockpit of her machine, landing on the pavement
before him and placing her hands upon her hips. She
was strikingly good looking, her eyes dark and her
lips full.
Arrogantly, she wore no masque or made no attempt to
disguise her features. She was, refreshingly,
entirely as she presented herself; a handsome woman
in her thirties dressed in a simple black, one-piece
uniform.
She lifted a hand from her hip and waved her finger
suggestively.
"Monsieur, I fear that our employer is somewhat
dissatisfied with you and your angry robot," she
remarked wryly.
Beneath the balaclava, he lifted an eyebrow. He
hadn't expected her to be French, much less to
possess a sense of humour.
"And just who might your employer be,
Miss...," he waited, studying her sharp
cheekbones and wry smile.
"You may call me Fait Accompli, monsieur, and to
whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?" she
responded tartly.
"Why don't you call me Guardian? And I note that
you never answered my first question," he
remarked.
"Well, Monsieur Guardian, my employer is the
city of London. Every street and every stone holds me
answerable for what goes on here and thus you must
understand that I am very upset that your pet robot
has been causing distress in this here city."
He smiled in what he hoped was a disarming fashion.
"It appears we've reached an impasse then, Ms.
Accompli, one that I fear we can't resolve by
conversation."
She didn't reply, instead closing the distance and
delivering a blow to his chest that he hadn't
expected. He staggered backwards, feeling the
coldness of Chojin Robo behind him.
"Need a hand, little buddy?" the giant
robot inquired.
"I'm fine," he answered, "She just got
lucky, that's all."
Fait Accompli smiled sharply, her red lips curling
upwards at some joke to which he was not a party.
"That is exactly correct, Monsieur Guardian, I
did indeed 'get lucky'."
She crossed the distance again and, despite his
training, her blows found their ways through his
defences - a swift punch to the gut and another
suckerpunch that lifted his chin up and set his teeth
rattling in his jaw.
She stepped back, smiling as he experimentally
massaged his aching jaw.
"You care to elaborate on that last comment, Ms.
Accompli?" he asked, his voice a little more
agitated than he would have liked.
She shrugged casually.
"I have a talent for, how do you say, the
acquisition of favourable results."
He nodded slowly, beginning to understand.
"Meaning that luck will work in your favour time
and again when up against situations and results
you're expecting, right?" he smiled playfully,
"I wonder what happens if I do something
unrelated to any of your previous experiences."
Fait arched an eyebrow and pursed her lips.
"Why don't you try it, Monsieur Guardian?"
she remarked sourly.
Within seconds, a shard of glowing blue crystal was
in the palm of his hand, emitting a soft, shimmering
glow about him. He reached out with the palm of his
hand and placed it flat against Chojin Robo's leg,
spreading the influence of the glow to the vast robot
as well.
"Let's go, Chojin Robo!" he cried out and
the blue light seemed to burn brighter, clouding the
details of the man and robot as if they were draining
away from the scenery around them.
With a final, parting gesture he saluted the furious
French woman and called out;
"Be seeing you, Ms. Accompli."
The former actress swore loudly in French.
* * *
"There's going to be hell to pay for this
one," the large tomcat observed quietly.
Joseph Dodgson nodded, his face unreadable.
"I'm well aware of that, Hoodwink," he
answered, his voice level.
The atmosphere in the Abbey was quiet, the three
administrative officers silent, hesitant even to
type.
Dodgson sighed and removed his glasses, waving
casually.
"Don't mind me, ladies," he smiled,
"Good days and bad is what it comes down."
The shrill call of a telephone broke the silence and
Dodgson wearily removed the phone from his pocket,
looking down long enough to read the name 'Prime
Minister' on the display before lifting it to his
ear.
With a sigh he said, "Hello, ma'am."
He turned his back on the staff of the Abbey, moving
towards the lift doors. Behind him, the
administrative staff resumed their work and the large
black and white cat nervously took to chewing his
claws.
NEXT: The
whereabouts of Sei...
