Dark City - Harkon’s Dad’s Safe House #2

I wake to an irate father asking where his daughter is. I say I don’t know, which is technically true. He stares at me intently. That’s alright.

“Do you like pizza?”

He scowls. “Everyone likes pizza.” Stomps out to the porch to scowl down the street.

Volt dishes on our host. I’ve seen that guy before. He crushed a bunch of my bug-bots.

“Really? Like in a battle?”

No. When they were out foraging. People tend to squish them when they chew on stuff, but he does it more than most. A lot more.

“Perhaps he’s more fastidious than most.” I look out at his scowling face. “Or more aggressively impatient.”

Perhaps he has more stuff.

“Hmm. Maybe.”

I eat some salty goo and load Volt into Harkon’s hunters. And mine, I guess.

These things are ancient.

“Really?” I give them a closer look. They’re in great condition. A little greasy, but otherwise mint. “Is that a problem?”

Nope. Just weird. Their quality is much higher than what I’m used to.

Well, that’s not good. I have nothing against ancient, high quality, weapons - happen to be one - but I was hoping for more hunters. Them being ancient suggests supply chain complications.

I look down at my half dozen killer drones. May need my enemies to group up.

“How are you doing for bug-bots?”

Terrible. Fucking Interlopers crushed them good. Very thorough. That said, my seeders are better positioned than last time. Should bounce back in a couple days. Unless Harkon’s dad goes mental on them.

“I’ll have a word with him.”

We finish our upgrades and get bored. Should we clean up? Jesus, is this what happened to Henry? Lily bolts down the street. Thank god.

Her dad griefs her on the porch, but she deflects his energy with an eye roll. I expect fireworks, but dad’s more chill with Lily home. Big softie. She barges in.

“Drones ready?”

I nod.

“Couldn’t find the monkey. Asked around. Apparently he left with another monkey in a red truck. That good?”

“Fuck. No.”

I told Lily that I couldn’t kill Big Cheddar unless we found Soca and Henry. Which wasn’t technically true, but close enough. I don’t work for free.

“Wait. Are you guys involved in monkey business?” asks Dad. “That is not safe. Those guys are fucking crazy.”

Lily rolls her eyes. “I was looking for one monkey. And I didn’t find him. That’s hardly monkey business.”

He looks at me.

“I dunno where he is either.”

There’s a long pause where we look innocent and he looks sus.

“I gotta go to work.” He scowls at Volt. “What are you guys doing?”

“Nothing.”

“No plans.”

Eating stuff.

He’s skeptical. “You’re gonna stay here until I’m back?”

“Yep.”

“Absolutely.”

I’m lots of places.

“You’re not gonna get hopped up on War Drug and commit suicide by super intelligent monkey?”

“Drugs are for losers.”

“Yeah, where would we even get them?”

Seriously. Where do we get War Drug?

“You can get War Drug’s ingredients anywhere. It’s just a future inhibitor and a metabolism jolt. Usually No Thought and Super Strong.”

“Noted.”

“Really?”

No. Fucking. Shit. That explains a lot.

There’s a few more hard questions, but eventually he’s gotta leave. He’s obviously skeptical, but also has responsibilities. After he’s gone, we give it a beat, then gear up. Lily in her eye watering biker gear. Me in a tactical trench coat she gives me. It’s light and flexible, with ultraviolet dazzle camo and hard plates over select organs. Super thoughtful.

“How are we gonna find Soca?”

“Let’s use the hunters. Be a good test.” says Lily.

“Alrighty.”

We load the drone guns and head to the porch.

“How does this work?”

I toss a bug-bot to Lily's shoulder. “Just tell her what you want.”

Lily squints at the bug on her shoulder. “I’d like to find two monkeys in a red truck. Or any monkey. Or any red truck.”

Parameters?

Lily looks at me.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

I shrug. “What’s your scope? Do you have limits? Direction?”

Lily thinks for a moment. “Can you find them in under an hour?”

Maybe. Fire two hunters.

Lily does so, and they fly off in a double spiral pattern. We wait in awkward silence. Which is fine. She’s not a talker, and I’m always awkward. It’s my comfort zone.

After a few minutes, Volt chimes in.

I’ve got a red truck with two chimps in it. They’re speeding across the city. It’s the driver you want dead, right?

Lily gives me a look. “She’s met them both. Can she not tell them apart?”

I shrug. “Facial discernment requires a lot of training data. I haven’t introduced her to enough monkeys.”

My hat database is robust. The bad monkey has the flat hat, right?

I twist my lips in thought. “Yeah… We better get a visual on them. Where can we steal a truck?”

“I’m not chasing monkeys.” She turns to Volt. “Park the hunter on the seat between them. Tell them to drive here, or you’ll blast them.”

Okey-dokey. There’s a long pause. They’re on their way.

I’m impressed. That was a very lazy solution. Also, by staying here, we’re technically obeying her father. That’s some high level teenage bullshit.

Twenty minutes later, a red truck pulls up. One chimp disembarks hesitantly. Shaking and weeping. He’s got a flat hat.

The other pops out casually. “S’up, Xan. Who’s your friend?”

“This is Harkon the Hunter.”

“Really? You’re smaller than I expected. What do you guys want?”

“We’re saving you.”

“Are you?” He looks back at the truck's shattered windshield and explosive invitation. “Interesting approach.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome. Where’s Henry?”

“We were trying to figure that out when you summoned us.”

I point at Hobbes. “He doesn’t know?”

“I didn’t take him.” The little guy sobs. He doesn’t look like an evil monkey. More like a distraught day laboring monkey. “I got scared after our battle. So I called Nietzsche.”

“Fuck.”

Lily cocks her head. “Is that bad?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

There’s a huge roar. Sounds like an angry lion the size of a freight train.

“It’s probably bad.”

The weepy little fucker confesses. “I told him Henry would be at the Rando meeting. It was written on his calendar.”

Far down the street, a massive armored simian lopes into view. He lets out another ungodly roar, like a bull elephant being run through a wood chipper. It’s unsettling and vaguely familiar.

“Well, how did he find us?”

The trembling monkey pulls a phone out of his pocket. A find-my-friend app is running. “I got scared again…”

Soca is disgusted. “Well done, idiot. Now we’re all dead.”

“Why’s he so big?”

“Who?” Soca looks at the huge ape. Waves dismissively. “That guy? Who cares? Our problem is Nietzsche.”

He points to a large quadcopter that’s descending from the ever present, overarching, drone swarm. It’s some kind of flying lectern with a professorial chimpanzee at the helm. He has a labcoat and a monocle. I’m somewhat impressed. This debacle keeps redefining what an evil monkey looks like.

“Behold!” Nietzsche waves to the giant monster. “Henry tamed the chimpanzee, so I set the human free! My science has finished their development! Bigger, stronger, faster! With keen senses and a towering intellect! Unshackled from the weaknesses of love, mercy, or decency! Teach them, my pretty! Teach them what it means to be human!!”

The giant roars again and charges towards us. It really sounds familiar.

“Is that the Police Chief?”

Holy shit. I think it is. He’s had a bit of a glow up. Look at the size of him. He’s so fast. That armor could stop a mortar round.

Lily is unimpressed. “You don’t have to breach armor to kill the guy inside. Incendiary hunter should do the trick.”

She draws her drone gun, but I interject.

“Wait! We can’t kill this guy. I know he’s attacking us, but he’s actually a victim. He’s kinda… Kinda my victim. I think I broke his brain. We’ll have to run away.”

Lily stares at me blankly.

“I know he’s faster than us. Do you have a dazzle-bomb or something? A little flashy-flashy, then we sneak off?”

The police chief thunders closer, moving at highway speeds. Lily ignores him, staring at me.

“So, yeah. We better go…”

I can hear the chief’s snarling, frantic, breaths. An angry vee stares into my soul. I remember what a massive pain in the ass Harkon can be.

“We’re not running, are we?”

The chief pounces - leaping the last thirty feet to power slam Harkon - but she’s not there. She took a single step out of range, snapped her batons out, and slammed a quick staccato beat into his armored neck.

He ignores the hits. Lashes out with furious swipes. He’s terrifyingly fast. His six foot arms crack out like whips. But he never quite connects. Harkon barely moves - no more than a slight bend or a single step - but she’s always a little out of reach. An inch. A millimeter. A hair. And each miss is punished with a blaze of retaliatory strikes to the jointed sections of Chief’s armor. Elbows and wrists. Shoulder and neck. Fingers.

The tempo increases. The Chief is utterly untiring and anger is only making him faster. I can no longer see Harkon’s batons, only the tracers left in their wake. The snarling thunder and metallic beats reach a fever pitch.

Finally, Harkon deigns to move more than a single step, skipping out of range. The combatants stare at each other. Neither seems the worse for wear. The spikes on the batons have stripped the paint from his armored joints. There’s a bit of blood leaking from some of the scratches, but Chief is completely unbothered. He’s an armored truck with roid rage. Harkon is also fine. Yet to be touched.

“Do you concede?”

He roars in response.

“Then we shall begin.”

A switch is flicked, and the batons crackle with electricity. Harkon leans in and the dance continues. But now it’s a strange impressionist dance, with the chief’s limbs freezing every time a spiked baton pierces its joints.

Now he’s slowing down. The electric jolts smothering his rage with agonizing partial paralysis. Harkon, by contrast, moves ever faster. His troubles are her opportunities. After a minute, he stops altogether, and Harkon slams an electric spike into his neck. Leaves it there.

I guess he’s done.

Nietzsche huffs. “Disappointing. Whelp, Plan B.”

He presses a button and a dozen gun barrels slide out of his lectern. It’s looking grim, until Harkon’s remaining baton hurls over and shaves a few blades of the lectern’s front, right, rotor.

Nietzsche tries to stabilize with only three rotors. Borks it. Hits a building. Flips over. Lands in a pile of floppy monkey and lectern parts.

I lean over to whisper with Soca. “That’s why you want a six-rotor flying death lectern.”

“Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Noted.”

Harkon fishes Nietzsche from his pile of rubble, and sidearms him into Hobbes. Looms over the resultant pile of monkeys. “Where’s Henry?”

“I gave him to the interlopers.” Nietzsche snarls. “Couldn’t think of anything worse to do to him. They shoved him into one of their tubes.”

“Tubes?” I ask. “Like a sleep tube?”

“Unlikely.” he smiles. “Unless humans beg for mercy in their sleep.”

“What the hell, man!” Soca barks. “Why are you like this?”

“Why did Henry cancel the breeding program!?”

“He didn’t! The girls did!”

“W-What?” Nietzsche is flummoxed. “Why wouldn’t the girls want to breed with us?”

Soca laughs helplessly. He can’t even.

Harkon can. “They don’t like you. I don’t either. Do I kill you now or the next time I see you?”

Nietzsche is still bewildered, but Hobbes picks up what she’s putting down. “Next time, please.” He grabs Nietzsche and hustles away.

“Won’t we need them to find the tubes?”

“No. I know where they are. They’re stuffing everyone in them.” says Harkon. “But we can’t get to them. They’re too well protected as long as Big Cheddar controls the Interlopers. We don’t have enough hunters to take them all on.

“We’ll get everyone from the tubes, but we gotta kill Big Cheddar first.”

“That’s gonna be tricky.” I smile sheepishly. “Cause I’m pretty sure Big Cheddar is hiding in one of the tubes.”