Of Hamsters and Men

<Parrots>
"Whammo! Zack, your game is way off tonight!"
Zack pouted as he retrieved the air hockey puck from the slot in
front of him and set it down on the table, but a grin split his dour
expression after only a couple seconds. "Hey, what can I say? I'm
up against a performance powerhouse! You were awesome tonight!"
Cubie smiled. Her low-cut red sequined dress and Zack's rented
tux looked out of place in Parrots, and the crewmen playing eight-
ball at the next table were giving them both occasional odd looks,
but the couple was oblivious, intent only on celebrating after the
huge success of the Phantom of the Opera.
Zack laughed as he served a vicious ricochet. "I still think
the banjo would have been a nice touch."
Cubie rolled her eyes as she parried, sending the puck racing
back at Zack's goal. "Sort of like the time you played the narrator
in your high school play?"
"You mean my senior year when I held a Kermit the Frog puppet up
to the mike and did my best imitation?"
Cubie nodded, her eyes on the speeding puck. "Yes. You brought
the house down."
Zack chuckled. "Yeah. I was such a hit that the drama teacher
almost persuaded the school superintendent to invite me back again
next year for an encore!"
Cubie snickered. "Maybe we'll go back and watch your stellar
performance sometime."
"Not a chance! Imagine the chaos of Blotz dropping in during
scene two!" Zack shuddered.
<STCP Headquarters - 2906>
"Send him in, Carol."
Carol nodded. "Yes, Mr. Maxillus." She looked up at
Blotz. "Go on in."
He lumbered past Carol's desk, and reached up to open Maxillus'
door when Carol cleared her throat. "What?"
She pointed down at the doormat under his feet.
Blotz rolled his eyes, then wiped his feet. Favoring her with a
parting glare, he continued on into the office. Zorn was standing
with his back to Blotz, looking out the window at the STCP grounds
below. He turned and smiled. "Lieutenant Blotz, thank you for
coming so quickly."
Blotz nodded silently. He had actually gotten the meeting
notification three relative days ago, ignored it until just a few
minutes ago, then reluctantly time-jumped back in time to appear
punctual. A minor abuse of his priviledges as an STCP agent, but one
he cherished nonetheless.
"What can I do for you, sir?"
"Have a seat, my massive friend." Zorn turned and stepped back
behind his desk, then settled into his PowerPlay 6000 Deluxe
Executive Office Chair. His average build was almost swallowed up by
the overpowering chair, but Blotz knew from experience that the chair
was more than appropriate for his supervisor.
Blotz then shifted his gaze to the folding chair set up on his
side of Maxillus' desk. Blotz and chair had an adversarial
relationship. "I'd prefer to stand, if you don't mind, sir."
Zorn looked at the chair, then smiled. "Sorry, my friend." He
pushed a button on his intercom. "Carol, I need a new chair brought
in here. One suitable for Lieutenant Blotz."
"It's already on order. Should be delivered Friday."
Zorn sighed. "Carol, we are the STCP. Make a note to have the
movers time-jumped to . . . say, now."
The door opened and three movers wrestled a large crate into the
office. A fourth mover stepped around the crate and approached Zorn
with a clipboard. "Where would you like it?"
Zorn pointed at the folding chair. "Right there. You can take
the folding chair with you when you leave."
The three movers hefted the crate to the spot, then popped the
seals. The crate retracted from the chair, folding in on itself
until it was the size of a briefcase. The smallest of the three
movers reached down and picked it up. The trio nodded, then headed
out the door. The fourth man handed the clipboard to Zorn. "If
you'll thumbprint it, please."
Zorn mashed his thumb on the sensor square at the bottom of the
clipboard. "Thanks for bringing it by. It looks very nice."
Blotz had to agree. The chair was made for people with Blotz's
build, and the medium-scale chain mesh seat cover looked quite
durable. He eased into it, listening for the tell-tale creak that
warned him that he was exceeding a chair's performance abilities. No
such creak came forth, and he relaxed.
The mover grinned. "Don't worry, Lieutenant. That's a Minion
Manipulator 3000, rated for henchmen up to six thousand kilograms.
The patented chain mesh covers are puncture resistant and snag-
proof. Even the most intimidating armor won't be a problem. Loom in
leisure."
Blotz eyed the mover. "You a salesman?"
The mover colored slightly. "I moonlight, Lieutenant."
Blotz settled into the chair. "Don't quit your day job."
The mover colored even more as he turned back to
Maxillus. "Will that be all, sir?"
Zorn nodded. "Yes, thank you. Let your supervisor know I like
the chair very much."
The mover departed, and Zorn smiled at Blotz. "You're quite the
diplomat, you know that?"
Blotz shrugged. "Yeah. That's why I get paid the big bucks.
Because of my wit and charm."
Zorn slid a computer notepad across his desk. "You might want
to read this. It concerns our mutual friend, Zack Richards."
The Minion Manipulator 3000's armrests creaked as Blotz gripped
them. He pried one hand free and lifted the pad, scanning the text
on the tiny screen. When he finished, he looked up at Zorn sharply.
"Is this confirmed? The D-gun? THERE!?"
Zorn nodded. "Not exactly ON the Blue Dwarf, but only
accessible from there. Protected by White Wolf."
The armrest creaked louder.
Blotz's face was a grim mask. "That miserable rodent. I told
you we should have imprisoned his parents before they met."
Zorn shook his head. "We tried that once, remember. White Wolf
is actually a critical defender of the gun. Without him maintaining
custody during this critical juncture, it would have fallen into
Darken's hands."
Blotz leaned forward, suddenly full of nervous energy. "But
that could still happen!"
Zorn's smile was completely gone now, something Blotz had never
seen before. "It already HAS happened, in ZZ9Z5. That dimension's
databanks have no record of Darken or the D-gun. In fact, that
dimension no longer has an STCP. And never did, according to the
current timeline."
The armrest crunched.
Zorn continued. "I've been doing some research. It seems that
we're the only two people in ANY dimension that even know about the D-
gun or Darken. STCP R&D has never heard of it. Criminal Tracking
has no files on Darken."
Blotz swore. "Then . . . we're next!"
"Possibly." Zorn settled back in his chair. "I've set a
redundancy loop in our STC fields. But that's a stop-gap measure,
and hardly a perfect defense. But I think we need to keep our eyes
open. And we need to contact White Wolf."
Blotz flipped open his fore-arm armor and began setting the
coordinates for an ST-jump. Zorn waved to him. "Hold on, Blotz. If
Darken is watching us, then a jump to the Blue Dwarf will tip him
off, and might give away the D-gun's location."
Blotz was flustered. "So we need to contact White Wolf, but we
can't go to the Blue Dwarf? How do you suggest we do this?"
Zorn's smile returned. "I noticed that Cubie has managed to
make a covert link to the STCP mainframe. She's actually quite
good. We lost one outstanding field accountant when she departed
with Mr. Richards. But now we've got access to her. I can't control
her, but I can plant a suggestion that she might not detect. If it
works, we'll have our meeting with White Wolf."
"If we can't bring Mohammed to the mountain, then we'll bring
the mountain to Mohammed."
~Zack, Cubie, Zorn, and Blotz~