Nack the Weasel grinned widely, laser pistol clutched in his
left hand, a light whisp of steam still rising from the barrel. At
his feet lay Knuckles, clutching his chest with a trembling hand, blood
streaming down his fingertips. He grunted in pain, tilting his head
back in resignation; for once, that damn weasel had gotten the best of
him. "Some guardian," Nack sneered, putting his boot on
the echidna's gut a moment and illiciting a cry of pain, then shaking his head
and moving away. "You'll live."
His ears pricked at the sounds of
distant voices. He tossed the gun up, flipping it so the barrel was
held in his hand, and proceeded to slam the handle hard into Knuckles'
head. The echidna didn't move after that. Nack darted
into a nearby empty room tucked into the wall of the underground
passageway. He ducked into a shadow at an angle, craning his neck to
see what was going on. Had they caught onto him?
Several uniformed echidnas were
gathered around a computer. Nack could just see the map outlined on
the screen, and whatever was blinking, it was far from where he
was. He carefully scanned the hallway, then darted from shadow to
shadow between the dim golden lights.
"What the hell is that?" he
heard a woman ask as she walked into the room, coffee in
hand. Another answered in a distracted sort of tone, "We're
seeing a significant energy signature, Doctor. It just appeared
outside the city, it was an enormous blast."
Nack watched as she leaned in to look
at the monitor full of readings and maps. "The equivalent of
2.14 emeralds? Do we--"
"We have all the emeralds
accounted for, Doctor."
"But that's
insane! I've...I don't think I've ever seen power like that that wasn't
directly due to emeralds; not with that type of energy."
Nack blinked. 2.14
emeralds?
"Doctor, it looks like it's a
magic-user." Another uniformed echidna turned from a separate monitor to
the woman. She stepped close and blocked the weasel's
view. He scowled, carefully stepping closer. On the
screen was a security camera view of a vixen lying unconscious on the ground.
The weasel reached a gloved hand to
his ear, pressing a small button on an earset hidden in his
hat. "Dr. Robotnik, this is Nack; I think I found something
better than that emerald yeh wanted, mate."
Kelly buried her face in her hands as
Snively tried to regain his composure, trembling visibly. "He
watched me the entire three days?"
Snively sighed. "He
kept track of everything you did. Teleportation, invisibility,
telekinesis; he recorded every single time you seemed to zone out, watched all
the surroundings to see if anything happened. Saw you heal yourself
once. Lots of little things."
Kelly closed her
eyes. "I just...I didn't care anymore."
"Care...?"
She shook her
head. "I used to hide my powers. But at that point I
didn't care. I...things changed..." She fell silent.
Snively rubbed the back of his head
in thought. Robotnik must be brooding right about now, stewing over
the failure of his little pet project. Or perhaps he had started
revision already. Either way, Snively knew better than to go
anywhere near him. Part of him urged to get out of here and find
solace in a cup of hot tea. He glanced at Kelly. Her eyes
were glazed over, her expression troubled. Locks of hair had fallen
in front of one of those emerald green orbs. The thought hit him of
brushing it away, and his gaze fell nervously. Her tail was there
though, swishing in almost feline fashion. He watched the tip curl
and sway slowly, entranced.
"Hair."
Snively looked
up. "What?"
"Hair." Kelly's
expression was still vague. "You had hair once, didn't
you?"
He stared. "Er...yes."
"Were you taller?"
"What?" He couldn't help
but laugh. So she thought she was psychic now? What next?
"Were you?" Her eyes
pierced through his, and somehow he couldn't help but stare. That
hair..those soft eyelashes gracing an even softer gaze. He cleared
his throat. "No, I wasn't. Why do you ask?"
"Oh." She looked
confused. "It's...nothing, just..." Her voice fell away,
then she drew a breath to try again. "Something genetic,
your...height..and your hair. Is it?"
Snively would've scoffed at such a
brazen question. But she looked genuinely concerned. He
avoided her eyes. "Yes. I was
born...funny." The corners of his lips turned downward.
There was a long
silence. When Kelly finally said something, it almost made Snively
jump. "It can be fixed, Snively."
His eyes
widened. "What in hell are you talking about?"
"That height. Your
hair. Everything. It can be made right. I
just...I know it can. Something I trust is telling me it should
be."
"You're mad." He
said it flatly, leaning back against the couch, then shaking his
head. "You're mad," he said again. Kelly glared
now. "I'm not crazy, Snively; I've been seeing it over and over
again. I thought it was in your past, but now I know, it's
future. It's what's supposed to be."
"And why
now?" He crossed his arms, perturbed that she'd even brought up
the subject. "How about when I was born, huh? How
about before I was dumped on my aunt's doorstep, unconscious and nearly dead
thanks to my own father? Before I got this scar..and that one..hell,
how about before all of them?!" Those eyes..it was as if she
had reached into him and pulled out his words. He scowled, turning
away. Must not have been her eyes. Because he kept
talking.
"You think you can just walk in
here and make things better, fox? I've been this way for 26 years,
and Robotropolis has been this way for a decade as of a few months
ago! You aren't even from this goddamn planet; you have no idea what
you're dealing with, fox-girl. You don't know what I've been
through, and don't you pretend you do. You don't know what it's like
to have the shit beat out of you, or--"
"No." That
single word hushed him. "I don't know," Kelly said
softly. He sulked, sniffing irritably. She brushed the
hair out of the way of her eye. "I'm sorry. I'll
leave you alone."
"Good." He rose
from the couch and headed for the door, and Kelly's ears splayed as she watched
him. "Tomorrow morning. Same time. We're
heading for the factory again." He opened the door,
scowling. "Be there."
Somehow there was no solace to be
found in that cup of tea. It seldom worked, but Snively always
hoped, at least. By now it had gone cold, and he spun the cup in
slow circles while he stared ahead. He shifted in the wobbly seat
he'd accidentally chosen to sit in at this small table. There was an
industrial-sized kitchen and dining area available not far away, but somehow he
always preferred this tiny break room. Sick of all the big buildings
and rooms, maybe. Or maybe it was Robotnik's secret
claustrophobia. Snively sneered at that thought. Few
people knew what a wimp Robotnik really was--and always about the dumbest
things. You couldn't phase him if you ripped off his
arm. But stick him in a tiny room with bright lights, and he'd snap
within a week or less.
Snively wished he could've
snapped by now. So much could've been avoided. The
agonizing pain, the days and days in the medical wing; wasted breath, wasted
existence; humiliation and shame. Somehow he had grown accustomed to
the pain and humiliation. What stung him now more than anything were
those eyes. He couldn't get his mind off--
He slammed his cup down on the table,
cold tea sloshing out. Damn her! I need no pity! She
can't help me anyway...I'm too far gone. The sadness of that
thought had faded away. It was just a fact now.
His eyebrows twitched. Was
it a fact? He pushed the tea away and rested his folded arms on the
table--and the wheels of his mind began to spin.
He lifted his communicator, rising
from the table and adjusting the frequency. "Kelly?"
It took a moment for her to
reply. When she did, her voice was hoarse with
sleep. "Yes sir?"
"You'd better not be
asleep."
"Why's that?"
"Because I'm dropping by."