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Metalized Dusk
Ch 8: Fuzzy visions

Ch 8: Fuzzy visions

Tired and beaten, the captain of the attacking force drags his broken foot into the mobile command center, taking in one gulp a bottle of green pills and trying to keep his dangling left arm from detaching itself.

-" Reporting back sir!" he saluted with his right arm trembling while trying to keep his face stern. At least he got his words out of his toothless mouth.

-" Welcome back...", Joni wavered until someone whispered to him the rank of the wounded soldier. " Captain, right. Congratulations are in order, by the way, you did well out there. Splendid work from your team."

-The soldier's face dropped, unsure of what the CEO meant by it. Didn't they fail, weren't they utterly beaten? Unless…

-" While your forces distracted the enemy, we managed to infiltrate not just one trojan horse, but two highly volatile bombs into their little compound." Joni pulled the collars of his orange shirt, proud of the achievement of others' plans and execution. “ We did wonderful out there, finally the Commune has a victory under its belt. And soon enough, this little war will be put to rest and conquered as well.”

-"...I see.", the soldier said, trying to keep his anger bottled in. " If that is all sir, can I take my leave?"

Joni raised an eyebrow and then realized that the captain was severely wounded. " Battle scars...those are a man's real badges of honor!", the CEO cried with a gleeful smirk, which the soldier forcefully returned. "Dismissed soldier."

After he limped back outside, Joni turned to the control station, asking for an update on their devices.

-” Operational, sir. The decoy bombs are in place, while the Blues still lay dormant and undetected.”

Billy dragged his feet walking forwards, while his dome head was looking down, towards the ground for his entire way back to the fields; he barely heard the cries of his friends and needed a moment to realize he arrived at his destination. Even the blares and red messages from his GPS didn't register to him.

Their new fellow coworker took notice of that and followed his every move. How the cyborg slowly turned his face around, how much time it took for him to sit down, and how he appeared to slur his words. "Is it...is he drunk?", Fabius concluded, stupefied by his own conclusion.

Semil stood with his back straight up, hands folded to the chest, and climbed the highest point only so he could look disappointedly down on him. “ Boss, we are very disappointed in you”, the boy tried to mimic an authoritative tone before dodging a pebble thrown by Four-Two.

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-” Stop messing around and get down here! We should get him inside to rest”, ordered the clopy, preparing to throw more if Semil even peeped a word in disapproval.

Fabius watched the two closely, guessing that this wasn’t the first time this happened. There seemed to be a system, or at the least, some steps that they devised for such occasions. And something he could help out with. “ Excuse me? Is there anything I can help you with?”

Four-Two’s browless eyes wanted to frown and dismiss him immediately, but then Semil asked a pertinent question. Do they want to drag the cyborg by ropes again? Last time it took them over two hours to move him three meters under a cover, and this time it didn’t look like it would be different. “Besides, the new guy is big and muscular, bet he’s much stronger than both of us combined.”

The clopy massaged the bridge of their nose then scaled inside their head what would be more of a hassle- Them being needlessly aggressive with Fabius or having to carry Billy just with Semil’s help. “Fine. Grab him by the right hand and we’ll try to carry the left one”.

-” Thank you. If you think this is the better option, we’ll do as you say”, remarked the prisoner, who jangled his handcuffs to remind them of his handicap.

-” Ah…yeah”, remarked the clopy with disappointment.

-” Mind I suggest…another way?”

Still slurring his words and dropping and exiting out of a sleeping state, Billy finally saw the earth moving backward. Or was it going forward? But that couldn’t be right, he didn’t feel his legs walking. No, they were dragging. And his hands were dangling weirdly into the air…No, his mistake, a long log supported them up in the air; it went from his left palm, under the chest, and ended at the right palm. He could see the log sitting on someone’s back and shoulders.

-” Fab…fabi…new guy?” Billy finally managed to spur out after realizing from the bald head who it was.

-” Ah, you’re awake…boss I guess?”

Billy’s head was still spinning and his vision and hearing were cluttered with messages and alerts of abnormal behavior on his internal systems- Possible virus infection!

-” Wer…Semi andFou…home??”

-” They’re here, by your side and we’ll arrive home soon. Just a few more steps.” Each move took a while for the prisoner, instead of carrying it felt like he was dragging both of their bodies to the destination. Still, Fabius didn’t complain or say anything about it. “Your aids told me about this. Did you find a substance that can imitate a drunken stupor for C.T.Ds? That’s…something. But from what I can see, you aren’t spared the aftermath, huh?”

A few moments later, the prisoner kneeled and gently let the metallic giant slide on the ground to sleep the sickness off. Sounds of spins and metallic cracks spurred from Fabius' hands as he cracked them back into their normal position. To keep the log steady, he reversed his arm position from the elbows to the palms the other way around.

-” Ah, there we go. I’m guessing this will be a recurring task around here?”, Fabius asked as it was his first day in an office.

-” Uhmm…yeah”, replied Four-Two, a bit skeptical if they should say more. “ Billy just has his moments, you know.”

-” Moments, like everyone else”, completed Semil.

Fabius understood that he wasn’t trusted with much more than that and agreed not to drill for more. “ Should we return to work then? I’m guessing since the boss is done, you two can teach me ropes around here?”

The two spoke privately and argued for more than Fabius thought was necessary to tell him “yes”. As he guessed, Four-Two yelled for more than three-thirds of that time about their disapproval, but they still listened to Semil’s arguments in the end. “Maybe the boy just acts like a clown” thought the prisoner, trying to guess how the trio’s relationship actually worked.

-” So, mister former officer and probable torturer, what do you know about farming?” asked Semil with doe eyes and a large smile.