Brady Carmichael and the Poodle of Mass Destruction - The Kachina Shaman, Page 3
David Carnes
“OK, here’s the fun part,” said Brady smiling, “Throw something at me, Feef.”
Fifi looked around, found what she was looking for, and launched an old, marble patterned black and yellow bowling ball that had been sitting next to one of the workbenches. With her strength and agility, this was actually a pretty serious attack. It flew directly at Brady’s chest.
Brady punched at the oncoming ball and the PODS responded. Following his hand gesture, the pulsing beams of light flew from their orbits to intercept the heavy ball.
As the PODS met the bowling ball they took up orbit around it. Their gentle humming paths seemed to suspend the law of gravity as they first slowed then stopped the black and yellow orb in mid flight. It floated motionless, like a sun surrounded by eight speedy little white planets.
Brady looked over at Fifi and winked at her. Then he closed his hands making two fists. There was a sound like a knife cutting a ripe apple and sixteen perfectly sliced sections of bowling ball fell to the ground.
With what sounded like a satisfied hum, the PODS circled back and resumed their orbit around Brady.
“Not bad, not bad at all Gramps. Of course Fifi would have to throw the bowling ball at me. You couldn’t have thrown a golf ball or something?”
Fifi grinned and wagged her tail innocently.
Gramps shook his head, “You guys know you shouldn’t be doing that sort of stuff in here, you’ve got to run tests in the sealed test lab down the hall. That’s what I meant when I said to try it out. Remember the last time you were goofing around in here and you let those nanobots out? They could’ve eaten half of North America. Someone will get hurt and it will probably be me. Plus I kind of liked that bowling ball.”
Brady and Fifi both mumbled apologies. Brady added, “We’ll get you a new bowling ball Gramps. We promise.”
Fifi quickly whispered to Brady, “Remember that? Letting those nanobots out was awesome! They ate your shoes, oh and the pizza guy’s car. That was hilarious."
Then seeing Grampa frowning at her, Fifi tried to change the subject and asked, “What about me Gramps? Got anything good for me?”
“Of course I do, my dear.” He replied and smiled. “You’ll like this. You remember that tooth you chipped when you were fighting the giant robot from Antares Prime?”
“You mean dis one?” Fifi asked in a muffled tone as she opened her mouth wide and let her tongue roll out to one side.
“Yep that’s the one. I made a cast for you and I have a replacement, but it’s not like your other teeth,” Gramps said as he reached into another grey drawer and held up a small, shiny, white dog tooth. “If you press on it with your tongue and bite down hard, it will light up, giving you a smile so dazzling your opponent will be momentarily blinded.”
“Hmmm, danks Gwamps.” Fifi said as Gramps snapped the tooth into place.
“It has an adhesive that will set in about 30 seconds. Here you go my girl. Enjoy your new, extra dazzling smile.” Gramps scratched her the way she liked just behind her left ear.
Fifi let Gramps scratch her ear long enough for the tooth to set in place, plus a little extra. Then Brady and Fifi left the workshop area through a double garage door opening into the main body of the hanger.
It was by far the biggest room in their underground complex. Fifi had tried to call it the poodle-cave. But Brady argued with her that she was ripping off Batman and on basic principle he would refuse to hang out in a poodle-cave or ride around in a poodle-mobile. So after a long argument they took Gramps’ advice and agreed to call it the “hangar” and to give each of their vehicles a number rather than a name.
They had twenty-three numbered vehicles in all. Transports ranging from a radar-evading, deep-sea, stealth submarine, Number Four, to a fancy hi-tech jet helicopter with a shimmering blue force field, Number Six. They even had a massive bright pink Hummer with spinning wheels and hidden missile turrets (that was the one Fifi wanted to call the poodle-mobile) Number Two.
Brady had to admit he had not outgrown thinking it was funny to say in a British accent, ‘Ms. Fifi would you like to take Number Two?’ She would giggle and respond in high old lady voice, “Let’s go number twoooo.” And they would both laugh.
Brady selected Number Eight for their trip, one of their fastest and most flexible air transports. It was sleek and looked like a shiny metallic egg. It could quickly fly in any direction or just hover. It was completely silent and could use virtually anything for fuel. One time they were running low on fuel during a mission in China and they made it home by giving it some pork fried rice. That did, however, make it smell funny for about a week.
Brady and Fifi spoke the access code together. The egg cracked open and a short row of steps unfolded. They climbed aboard and soon were strapped in, going through the well-rehearsed routine of pre-launch checks and course setting.
Silently the ship rose up and into the launch tube maze built into the walls and ceiling of the hangar. It’s launch programming was set to take them through a hidden network of tunnels they had dug deep underground. They routinely changed how they came and went from their secret complex and had over fifty different hidden exits and entrances throughout the city.
The ship rose in full stealth mode, silently and invisibly, from a spot hidden behind a dumpster at a McDonald’s about a mile from their house. Fifi growl-sang, “Da, da, da, da, daaaa. I’m lovin’ it,” under her breath as they swept past and over the golden arches.
“Mr. Carmichael and Ms. Fifi,” the feminine voice of the computer began its briefing, “Mission touch down will occur in twelve minutes. Here is the relevant background data.”
“The President has tasked you with finding a stolen Kachina doll. Kachina dolls are Native American talismans that represent forces from both the natural and spiritual worlds. This particular stolen doll is an ancient artifact, roughly six inches tall, by two and a half inches at its widest point. It is colorfully painted using indigo, red cedar, animal bone, and mushroom dyes. Chemical analysis indicates…”
“Pause computer,” Brady looked at Fifi and rolled his eyes. She smirked back at him.
“Don’t look at me, you programmed her,” Fifi replied.
“Computer, please show us a picture.”
A picture of the stolen Kachina doll appeared in the display. Brady and Fifi examined the colorful doll with its widely spaced dark eyes, open mouth and inset bone teeth.
“It’s kind of creepy looking,” Fifi said. She squinted at the doll and reached up with a paw to rotate it on the touch screen and see it from various angles.
“Any suspects at this time, computer?” Brady asked.
“No, Mr. Carmichael,” Came the mechanical reply.
“OK, well, please load all relevant data into our comlinks in case we lose communication.” Brady added, “Any other details we should know?”
The computer continued, “The doll that was taken represents the spirit of fire, known as Hectapay. This doll is thought to be one of the most powerful protector spirits of the Kanee tribe. It is rumored that a shaman possessing the doll will have the ability to summon Hectapay and control the spirit of fire.”
“Great.” said Fifi, “I hate these missions with ghosts and spirits. Give me aliens, robots, or insane computers any day of the week. The supernatural stuff always freaks me out. Remember that time when the witch doctor made voodoo dolls of you and me and we both had that terrible rash for three weeks?”
Brady laughed, “Oh yeah, I remember. That’s why we make the big money I guess. Let’s get set to land, I have a feeling we’re gonna have to earn it on this one.”
--
They touched down just outside of the Southwestern Native American Museum, near the city of Santa Fe, New Mexico.
Brady and Fifi stepped out of the ship and walked over to meet the museum director. He was a skinny man, wearing a maroon vest, khaki pants, plaid shirt and sensible brown shoes. He smelled slightly of Vicks mentholated rub.
“Of course,” said Brady.
“Hmmm, you’re younger than I thought you’d be. Ah well, one can’t argue with results, can one? Your reputation precedes you, Mr. Carmichael.” He looked down his long thin nose, “This must be the famous Fifi. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is George Girard. I am the director of the museum.”
The skinny man continued, “This is no ordinary theft. When the Kachina was stolen, our guards were murdered. They were killed in horrible ways.
“One guard was found with over fifty rattlesnake bites, the other with hundreds of scorpion stings.”
The museum director went on. “The police are inside, and no one has touched anything. I understand that you prefer not have anything disturbed as you investigate a crime scene. The Hectapay Kachina really is the jewel of our collection. It is over 5,000 years old.”
“Thanks George!” Fifi said, “Show us the bodies, we’ll take it from here.”
George stood there shocked, staring at Fifi.
Brady looked at him and said, “Yep, she talks.” He paused for dramatic effect. “A lot.”
For the next several hours Brady and Fifi went to work, exhaustively searching through the museum, interviewing the police and other museum staff.
They ran a detailed scan of the museum and its grounds. One of the nice things about Number Eight was its fast connection back to the main computer server farm at their headquarters. Brady instructed the computer to use all its resources to hack into the video camera feeds of the surrounding area.
Brady and Fifi hunkered inside the small operations center nestled in the back cargo bay of Number Eight. With faces lit by the bluish glare of HD screens, they watched video footage the computer had assembled of the crime.
Using Carmichael designed, and not strictly legal video hacking tools, they were able to assemble a series of short videos showing the suspect approaching the museum. It appeared to be a man, cloaked and hooded. His face was either painted or masked in a skull like pattern. They had especially chilling footage captured by passing satellite, which showed the hooded man approaching one of the guards as he was making his rounds just outside the museum.
As the suspect drew close, he reached into his cloak and pulled out a small object. Then he started doing a twitchy, rhythmic dance. Brady and Fifi watched the video both horrified and fascinated. The bird’s eye satellite view allowed them to see hundreds of snakes slithering out toward the unsuspecting guard from the surrounding rocky desert landscape. The snakes were pulled as if by a magnet directly toward the guard. The poor guard wasn’t even aware of their approach until the first one bit him.
Within thirty seconds he had hundreds of rattlesnakes surrounding him with more quickly approaching. The moment he turned toward one attacker he was bit from behind by another. Soon he stopped trying to fight. He slumped down to his knees and just fell over, his eyes rolling back in his head. After that the snakes swarmed all around him, biting and rattling as if in some kind of frenzy.
The dancing cloaked figure stopped his dance and on cue the snakes ceased their venomous frenzy. They slithered away, melting back into the underbrush as if they were never there.
“Wow,” said Fifi. “Now that’s creepy.”
“Yeah, I’ll say.” replied Brady. “That guy must be a shaman who has figured out a way to tap into the powers of those Kachina dolls.
“Computer, rewind to the beginning of the creepy snake dance.” Brady waited for the computer to roll back to the correct spot in the video. “There it is, now stop. Zoom in and focus.”
The screen zoomed in to a slightly blurry image of a Kachina doll with snakey hair and fangs.
“It is obvious that he has plans for the new one that has been stolen. It’s the spirit of fire right? What do people do when they get a new toy?” Brady asked.
“They play with it.” Fifi said.
“Yep” Brady nodded, “So what do you wanna bet that we’ll be able to find him if we look for strange fires in the area? Computer? You been listening?”
“Affirmative, Mr. Carmichael,” the computer answered promptly.
“Let’s scan for fires with unusual heat signatures. These probably aren’t going to be your normal barbecues. Take us up in the air and maximize sensor radius, 1000 miles around our current location. Pinpoint any high temperature hot spots and show us on a map on screen.”
Brady turned to Fifi, “Shall we buckle-up?”
“Let’s go!” growled Fifi. “It’s been a long time since I’ve eaten snake. You know it’s a delicacy in Thailand? I hope that creepy masked guy brings it on. Those poor guards, what a way to go. Let’s see that shaman dude try to sneak up on us like that. I bet I can make him dance…”
Brady rolled his eyes.
--
“Mr. Carmichael and Ms. Fifi, we have another potential match. This reading is statistically different from the others. We have a number of very hot small fires with strange chemistry, a remote location, high mobility, and numerous small animal readings.”
Brady and Fifi looked up from the game of chess they were playing. “Mate in four anyway Brady,” said Fifi smugly.
“That might be true, Feef, but I’ve got mate in three,” Brady replied.
Fifi growled, “No way, this isn’t over.”
“You’re not going to beat me up again, are you?” Brady asked, chuckling.
“I might, I just might…” Fifi growled, pretending to be angry.
Brady stretched his arms up and rolled his head in a wide circle, loosening up. He clicked on the screen and looked at the new potential target. “Computer, take us in. Use full stealth and give us a concentrated scan of the area. I want to know the lay of the land, how many hostiles, what kind they are, and what they had for breakfast.”
--
As the data came back, Fifi and Brady drew up a quick plan, both stepping back to the operations center and selecting their weapons and armor.
Fifi’s paw lingered on a pair of steel nunchucks, perfectly sized and weighted to fit her. “Hmmmm,” She growled to herself thoughtfully, “This guy likes to dance. You know who was a good dancer? Bruce Lee. I think it’s time for a Chinese-style dancing lesson for the creepy doll guy.” She picked up the nunchucks and tucked them into one of the many utility pockets sewn into her armor.
Fifi’s armor was pretty interesting. She spent a lot of time in her off hours making sure it expressed her personality. Typically she read through the latest fashion magazines like Vogue and InStyle. Then she would sketch different outfit ideas in a little black sketchbook she kept in her studio.
