Charger Chronicles 2: Charger the Weapon, Page 6

  "I'll miss you, Elsa, after next week. I'm sure my new husband won't let us play together anymore," Melody whispered to her friend as they stood in line, waiting to receive their diplomas.

  "Don't worry, I will come visit you when he is not around. I sneak out all the time from my old man and he never finds out," Elsa whispered back. Elsa had been wed to the baker a few weeks prior to graduation and, as everyone who attended the wedding could attest, it was a beautiful event and the bride was ravishing in her small white dress.

  Elsa visited only once after Melody married, a week after the festive event of Melody's big day. Just a month later, Elsa was killed in a terrible vehicle accident.

  Melody gave birth to a healthy baby boy before she'd been married a year, and the families perceived this as a good omen, for boys were highly prized in this society. She named the boy Paul, after one of the saints of their religion.

  Paul never knew his father well, for the man died when Paul was only ten years old. Paul didn't know that it was his uncle Marcus who killed his father.

  It happened one day when Marcus visited his sister's house unexpectedly, "What the hell happened?" gasped Marcus. Quickly Melody tried to put her helmet back on. She had removed it to bandage the damage to her face that her husband had caused. "Did that bastard hit you again? I warned the little prick if he ever touched you again…" Marcus stammered.

  "It's okay," pleaded Melody. "It was my fault again. I have to learn to talk less."

  "Damn it, damn it, it's not okay. I told you that last time, and the time before that!" Marcus shouted, now completely out of control. Melody's husband made the mistake of coming home early that day and Marcus, in a rage, finished him.

  Marcus did not marry and, as he grew older, taught Paul to stand up for himself, but never be cruel. He wanted to make sure that Paul grew up strong.

  ***

  The great new era of peace shone across Earth like fresh morning light, with skies that were such a pure blue, you wanted to lose yourself in them. The air was clear, the trees a vibrant green, and the oceans warm and inviting. The government functioned well, people had jobs, and restaurants served patrons who were happy to be alive. Everything shone with a glow of brilliance and goodness.

  But not in the dusty crags and crevices of Mars. There was no such beauty for Charger to enjoy in the year 2151, as he labored to connect the glass panels needed for new quarters being built for humans. His work companion and superior radioed over to him, "Hey, buddy, stop working so hard, you're making me look bad." Marcus had been given this job, thanks to his father, both as a reward and as a punishment.

  Meshed had never suited Marcus; he did not understand his own people. His father had insisted that work on Mars would be good for him and help build character. His sister Melody had wept, for she would miss her brother terribly. But she understood Marcus's need to get far away from her father. She just wished she could go, too.

  "Come on you big goon! If I have to come over there and find your underwear and give you a wedgie, I will," Marcus radioed again to Charger. He laughed loudly.

  "Don't wear underwear," Charger radioed back sternly.

  "Whoa, too much information! Now I can't get that picture out of my mind," came the radio chatter from Marcus.

  Marcus had been on Mars for only a few weeks, where the standard practice was to pair humans with Hyborgs, but as superiors. Marcus didn't like this way of thinking, and made every effort to treat Charger as an equal. Charger seemed to care nothing for Marcus's courtesy.

  "Hey, just curious, but how do you fit into the showers?" Marcus radioed again as he drove the skidder toward his partner. It would soon be time to stop work for the day.

  "Don't shower!" snapped Charger.

  "Okay. Well, that explains the funny odor in the cab of this skidder. I'm almost at your location, so let's knock off for a beer, buddy." Marcus pulled on the controls to stop the skidder before reaching Charger. The Hyborg just kept working. "Hey, buddy, look on the front of the skidder. I painted a DODGE sign on there for you, get it? Dodge, Dodge Charger."

  Charger grunted and decided to stop work so he could go back to the shelter. Then he'd no longer have to listen to Marcus.

  The skidder, a large Martian work truck used for hauling parts across the planet's surface, creaked and groaned with Charger's weight as he entered the cab. "Must be nice not to have to wear these bulky space suits," Marcus said as Charger sat in the only seat large enough to fit his frame. "Passed gas in it earlier this morning and I swear I can still smell it. Hey, want me to hook you up to my oxygen line so you can get a sniff?" Marcus poked Charger in the ribs.

  "Just go!" was the reply he received from Charger.

  "You know, I bet deep down inside, you're just a big teddy bear."

  Marcus was really pressing his luck today. Charger refused to waste his time being nice. His great hand reached over and, nearly breaking the lever, engaged the throttle, sending the skidder racing off with Marcus fighting the controls. They quickly arrived at the entrance hub for the Mars base, but as Charger tried to exit the craft, he found the door was locked.

  "Say please," Marcus whined, then laughed.

  It took everything Charger had not to reach over and throttle the man.

  But Marcus could read from Charger's expression that he had crossed a line. "Okay, big guy, I was just joshing with you." He quickly unlocked the door. "There's always tomorrow. I will eventually find a way to make friends with you."

  Charger grunted as he ripped the communication device from his ear and sent it flying into the lock-up room for the night, then stormed off and disappeared. The other humans in Charger's path parted like water as he thundered down the halls.

  The next morning found Marcus waiting at the exit point that led to the skidder, flipping the communication device in his hands as Charger reported for work. "Hey, buddy, I got your ear piece here. Let's plug you in for another day of wildly exciting conversation."

  Charger froze. Written on his face was the thought, "Should I bolt or just kill him now?" Marcus could read the expression and, hoping not to get killed, he added, "We have to work together, for how long I can't say, so we might as well make the best of this. Besides, it's not as if you can run away from me across Mars. Oh wait, I guess you could! But I bet you won't, I can tell when someone really likes me."

  Charger required little oxygen because he was so near to being physically dead, and it seemed ironic that he expressed his frustration as a long exhalation and a slumping of his shoulders.

  Marcus saw this and could not resist. "Buddy, don't be sad, a twelve-hour work day will just fly by if we talk."

  Charger growled.

  Six hours into the workday, they were called to the dockyard to pick up materials. Their skidder lumbered across the barren surface of Mars until Marcus suddenly stopped the vehicle. "Hey buddy, it's time for lunch. I got a surprise for you today."

  It had cost him, but Marcus had managed to get a raw steak brought to the Martian base from Earth, and thought it a good prank to offer it to his beastly friend. "Look what I got." Marcus pulled the steak from his cooler. He had no idea that Hyborgs ate raw meat and required blood as part of their diet. On Mars, however, this was not yet possible and Charger was, like the other Hyborgs, on bland dietary substitutes.

  Marcus dangled the steak out to Charger like a fishhook, and Charger took the bait. Snatching it from Marcus, Charger devoured the steak, leaving traces of blood on his mouth. Then he turned his gaze toward Marcus, trying to decide if the man could be parted from a few pints of blood.

  "Wow, is it me, or is this cab really small?" Marcus asked nervously as he looked at his door and wondered if he should unlock it.

  They had stopped the skidder on a ridge, just a few miles from the dockyard, and approaching them fast was a Martian twister. These twisters were like those on Earth, but moved through the thin Martian air at incredible speeds. The alarms rang out just as the twister hit the skidder, sending it a
nd its two occupants tumbling down the side of the ridge. It smashed into the bottom of the gully, and all went black for both human and Hyborg.

  A click, a spark in the darkness, metal twisting and scraping, another flash from a spark, then slowly the back-up lighting cleared away the darkness. Marcus groaned in pain as he tried to push against the metal pinning him in his crushed chair. The blood cleared from his eyes and he looked over at Charger. "Hey, buddy, you dead over there?"

  Charger did not move. Struggling, Marcus picked up a large wrench from the floor and heaved it toward Charger's head. The motion of the wrench, or the air currents it caused, brought Charger out of his stunned state instantly and he caught the wrench in his great hand.

  "Hey, neat trick, wish I could get my dog back home to do that!" Marcus couldn't resist saying.

  Charger had had enough. His huge fist flashed out, but jerked to a stop just inches from Marcus's face. Only then did Charger realize that he too was pinned down in his seat. He thrashed about for a while before giving up.

  "Am I to take it that you don't like me?" Marcus pestered.

  Charger thrashed about again for a moment, then relaxed.

  "So." Marcus rubbed his hands together. "Guess I'm going to be dead like you shortly. My oxygen gauge is reading pretty low." That sentence triggered an unexpected response from Charger.

  "A few years back, humans decided they no longer felt safe having Hyborgs and Lycans around. Our commanding officer, General Harris, ordered me and a few others to start eliminating Lycans and Hyborgs. It was my duty to make sure that any damaged or unnecessary members of our kind were eliminated or demolished. My first order was to eliminate my Lycans, which I did immediately. So, because I am now damaged, it is necessary to complete my orders. I must now be demolished."

  "Holy shit, man! I didn't think you could talk!" Marcus blurted out. He was even more astonished when Charger continued.

  "However, my first orders were to ensure survival of the human race, so before I can eliminate myself, it is necessary for me to save you."

  "Wait, so you're saying you have to keep me alive, that you have to obey me? Because you were designed this way?" Marcus asked.

  "Yes," Charger responded, as he began wrenching at the metals that bound him.

  "Pick your nose," Marcus demanded.

  Charger stopped flailing at the metal and turned his blank white eyes on Marcus. "Doesn't work like that, stupid," He returned to the task of removing the metal.

  Marcus laughed, the tone a little hysterical. "Hey, put your arms straight out in front of you like the Frankenstein monster in the old black and white movie vids and say, 'Ugh.'"

  Charger noticed that Marcus's oxygen was getting dangerously low and redoubled his efforts.

  It wasn't in Marcus's nature to be quiet. "What happens when you're the only one left? Who eliminates you?"

  "Who do you think is gonna risk trying?" Charger snarled.

  Marcus passed out before he could form another question.

  Slipping in and out of consciousness, Charger freed himself at the cost of some body armor and enhancements, and packed Marcus over his shoulder to the dockyard base.

  When Marcus awoke, he was in a hospital bed, with Charger standing close by. "Typical," Marcus gasped, fighting for air. "You hog all the room in here. Hey buddy, come closer."

  Charger did as he asked.

  Struggling with every word, Marcus said, "I'm your superior here, you have to obey me, and I command you not to eliminate yourself till I say you can, got that?"

  Charger refused to respond; he was designed to take orders. He wasn't designed to like it.

  ***

  Long days of painful recuperation were tough on Marcus, making him impatient to get out of the hospital. He pushed himself to recover, afraid that time away from work might result in Charger being paired with another worker. He really liked the big goon and felt it was his responsibility to set this slave of humanity free. After all, he owed his very life to Charger. Marcus complained bitterly to the nurses, hoping to force the issue of his release. After much fussing and fighting, the doctors opted for peace and released Marcus back to work.

  The company agreed to place Marcus on light duty until he fully recovered. He was to drive a skidder transporting parts needed for the construction site. As Marcus feared, Charger had been assigned to another worker, so he demanded the Hyborg be reassigned to him. The company supervisor thought Marcus insane. Who'd want to be confined inside the cab of a Martian skidder for twelve hours a day with a Hyborg less the two feet from you? However, Marcus wouldn't back down so the company relented, afraid that if he didn't get his wish, he'd file a complaint with the union.

  "Morning, buddy, ready for a hard day's work?" Marcus said cheerfully to Charger. "We got assigned Big Bertha as our skidder, she's big on the outside, but oh, so small on the inside. I hope you used deodorant." Marcus laughed and winced from the pain in his broken ribs.

  Charger just stared at Marcus, a blank expression in his milky white eyes. But Marcus would take no more chances with Charger's anger issues. They set off across the Martian surface looking for loads of materials to be hauled. Marcus sang as Big Bertha rolled across the dunes of Mars. Charger flinched often, for his hearing was very good. By their lunch break, Marcus had sung some four hundred and three verses of seventy-eight songs, all of them off-key.

  The day wore on with Marcus telling Charger about his life, his family, how his kid sister had married a man he disliked, and how adorable his nephew Paul was. Marcus had a firm, disciplinarian father, and a kind, forgiving mother. Marcus told the story of how his family decided to leave Earth and move with other families to Meshed.

  Perhaps Charger could no longer stand Marcus's constant blathering, or perhaps he genuinely wanted to add something to the conversation but, out of nowhere, he finally spoke. "My dad ran a gas station on Earth."

  That was all Charger said for the entire day. It both shocked and dismayed Marcus and, for several hours, they drove in silence. The day ended well and Marcus said. "Kay, buddy, see you tomorrow. Don't be late, we got a big day ahead of us, what with all that driving and talking stuff."

  Charger simply left Marcus in mid-sentence and disappeared down the hall. Later that night Marcus began wondering where Charger went at night and decided to find out where the Hyborg lived. The next day came and went with Marcus doing all the talking and Charger doing all the suffering, not responding even once. When they parted ways, Charger rushed off down the hall. This time Marcus followed.

  Charger was the ultimate soldier; within minutes he lost Marcus. Marcus was sure that Charger knew he was being followed and, undeterred, pulled a small handheld device out of his pocket and activated the tracer he had placed on Charger's armor. Marcus followed the beeping and blinking device right into a broom closet.

  "Man, he's good!" thought Marcus. This day was done, but he'd try again tomorrow.

  When the next morning arrived, Marcus asked. "Hey, buddy, I lost you at that broom closet. That was pretty smart. Tell me, how did you know I bugged you?" Charger just grunted and went to his seat in the skidder.

  By lunchtime, Marcus was frustrated. He had tried talking to the goon, tried being a buddy to the goon, and still seemed no closer to making friends with him. "Tell you what," Marcus said, "I know you have to obey my commands. I will trade you. If you tell me where you go, I promise I won't command you to slap yourself in the face when we get back to base." There was a long moment of silence as Marcus tried in vain to stare down Charger's blank white eyes.

  "It doesn't work like that," Charger finally said. "You can't order me to slap myself." That was all he had to offer.

  "Come on, man! What is it with you?" Marcus demanded. "I know you can talk. I can do this every day, man, and sooner or later you're going to talk to me!" Marcus had no idea how easily Charger could outlast him.

  For nearly two weeks Marcus tried everything. He hid bugs on Charger and they failed. Cameras in hallw
ays failed. He paid other workers to stand around discreetly and radio Charger's position, and that failed, too.

  Finally, the last day of the work week came around and Marcus was desperate. Soon the crews would disperse for a few days vacation before returning to the job site and he still hadn't found out where Charger went at nights. At the end of the shift, as Marcus released Charger from his seat belt, he slipped a tether from his body to Charger's. The two were now locked together and Marcus threatened to swallow the key if Charger did not comply. "I'll do it man, I'm serious, I'll swallow the damn key if you don't tell me where you live!" Laughter and cheers erupted from the other crews that had docked.

  Charger showed rage, his muscles twisting and knotting, his face contorting, his body armor enhancements spinning up, preparing for combat. His great hand reached down and pulled Marcus off the floor by the neck, choking him. The other crews scattered for cover. Charger took the tether in his other hand and, winding it around a nearby post, pulled hard, snapping it and separating the two. He packed Marcus, still gasping for air, into a side room. Charger put him on the floor and released him.

  "I have no room," Charger said. "I have no place, here or anywhere. At nights I hunt and kill members of my own kind. It's what I was ordered to do. Apparently you humans are afraid of us." Charger thus emphasized that he was no longer a member of the human race. "I do not sleep, I do not eat often, and I do not like you."

  Marcus was crushed. He had thought he was making progress with Charger, but now he knew that was never going to happen. Having said his piece, Charger left Marcus coughing in the room and thundered off down the hall. Marcus sat there for a while, as other crew members poked their heads in now and then to be sure he was still breathing. "I hunt and kill members of my own kind." Marcus ran the words through his mind repeatedly. The whole scenario seemed impossible.

  The weekend passed and Marcus's bruised feelings and neck healed. He had thought about what Charger said and decided not to give up on the person who saved his life. He owed Charger that.