This is a work of fiction that I am in no way making any money off of. It is not intended to infringe on anyone else’s copyright. It is however something that I wrote and I would ask that you please ask me first before using the reality or original characters I’ve created. Charlene’s nickname for Lucifer is Luc. It is pronounced ‘loose’.
Biker Mice from Mars FanFiction
Chapter Four
Things Change: There be Demons
By Kat
12/27/99
Charlene waited until Lucifer’s scanner showed that the General was out of hearing range before turning off the mock ‘General’s Walk’. Lucifer tweaked and beeped, communicating audibly the message that it was sending to Charlene over their link.
"Yeah, she ain’t coming back anytime soon," Charlene answered the motorcycle as she went back to work on the engine lift.
She looked up at where the lift was anchored on the chain and was satisfied with its location. She walked up to the right wall and began to lock off the cables to the pulley system. When she bent down to put torque on the cable a sharp pain raced up her thigh and for the first time she noticed that her stitches had torn. She cursed and slapped at the offending pain and realized that her arms and back hurt too.
It had been really stupid of her to pull the lift up herself. Lucifer could have easily used its grappling hook to position it, but when Charlene had realized that the Martian female had walked into the warehouse she got it into her head to show the General that she was strong.
Strong and stupid, Charlene scolded herself. She rotated her shoulders and the protest of her pulled muscles made her stop. Kaals was going to give her ten shades of Hades for pulling that stunt, and she grinned. Getting Kaals riled was all she had sometimes. Seeing that very proper, very logical, very calm Tulsan loose her temper was the only amusement Charlene let herself have. Of course, ruffing the General’s fur the wrong way had been amusing too. Again Charlene grinned, not realizing how that simple act softened her face.
The female General had walked into her warehouse as confident as you pleased and didn’t bat an eye at Charlene’s display. The human had liked her immediately and that just couldn’t be. Charlene had intentionally pissed the General off to put distance between them. Getting close to anyone wasn’t an option. The only reason Kaals was still around was because she had this insane idea that she could save her. No one could do that, she had been lost long ago.
Charlene sighed and felt the walls she had painstakingly constructed come in again. It was better that way. Soon the Tals cycle would be over and she wouldn’t have to worry about keeping her distance. She wouldn’t have to worry about anything anymore.
Her only current concern was Lucifer. Once she was gone she would need someone to look after the bike. Kaals certainly couldn’t do it. Charlene was very aware how Luc (pronounced ‘loose’) had reacted when they came to Mars. The motorcycle almost seemed happy. It was more lively and daring, and acted almost like a child let loose in a candy store. Truly it was Lucifer that had wanted to be in the race yesterday and Charlene had just let the bike have its way.
Charlene thought about the mouse she had rescued during the race. The first thing he had asked about after she had removed his helmet had been his bike and it was just a common bike. He was young and maybe a little reckless, but his heart was in the right place. The little gutter snipe had even pushed her to finish the race. Maybe he would be suitable for Lucifer. Charlene was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t see Kaals enter, but Luc did.
"Back already, Blue?" she asked, not bothering to turn around. She couldn’t see the Tulsan, but Lucifer could, and she used his ‘eyes’.
"I finished by business dealings with the Freedom Fighters and the Military. Did General Carbine come by already?" Kaals asked.
"Yeah, she came by with her rank so heavy on her chest I’d almost thought she’d fall over with the weight of it. She needs to get laid."
"Charlene!" Kaals gasped.
"You do too, if you even know how. For that matter so do I," Charlene said and waited for the lecture as she stretched her sore muscles.
"Charlene, the act of procreation is not…"
"…to be taken lightly or in vain. It should be the act of two adults with the express purpose of strengthening their bond and to produce offspring as evidence of their bond. Yada, yada yada…" Charlene finished for her Keeper.
"So you do hear me," Kaals stated looking stoic and proper as a nun at church.
"Yeah, I hear ya. I just choose to ignore you." Charlene said, hoping to get a reaction. She was to be disappointed.
Kaals just looked at her, not even bothering to show her displeasure. But Charlene knew it was there, just under the surface of the Tulsan’s cool blue skin. It was there, counting every flaw, cataloging every mistake, memorizing every blemish. Charlene felt her anger rise. Why couldn’t Kaals see her for what she was? A killer of children, nothing more, nothing less. Why couldn’t she see that there was nothing inside beyond the cynic? Why did she push all the time to see something that just wasn’t there anymore?
Charlene was aware of the human she had been once, but that woman had died long ago. There was nothing left her. So she liked bikes and working with her hands as the original Charlene Davidson had. Big deal! That didn’t mean that Charlene ‘Charley’ Davidson was somewhere inside trying to get out as Kaals always said. That Charlene, that Charley, would probably faint dead away at the things she had done and seen, what she had become. Kaals had taken her to Earth to see the garage that Charley had once owned.
It was a memory Charlene wished she could forget, but her computer mind wouldn’t let her. It had been the single most ridiculous thing the Tulsan had done to her. She had gone to that run down place and had felt nothing. The cobwebbed walls had no secrets, no memories. There had been pictures there of the Charlene that she used to be. Smiling, laughing, alive. It was the first time that she had realized that her eyes used to be green, but the realization had not changed her. She was still the Charlene that had massacred nearly 10,000 Tulsans. There had been no miraculous transformation or recognition. She had felt like the voyeur that she had accused the General of being. Going through the dead woman’s things had done nothing but sicken her, because of what she had become.
Charlene had refused to talk to the Tulsan for nearly a month. She didn’t like being manipulated. She didn’t like being used and she sure as hell didn’t like being expected to be something she wasn’t. Charlene could feel her blood begin to boil. She was mad now and it quickly chased away the semi-lighthearted feeling she had after teasing the General.
"So what’s my duties for the day, Keeper?" Charlene snarled, tugging her gloves more firmly onto her hands to hide the scraped form the life chain.
Kaals didn’t even blink. "Finish the modification to the warehouse to make it a proper vehicle repair complex…"
"Garage…" Charlene sighed.
"What?" Kaals asked.
"A garage. It’s called a garage," Charlene said rolling her eyes.
"Yes… well. Make it a proper ‘garage’ and wait for work. General Carbine assured me that there would be plenty of work, even for you."
When Kaals turned to enter the living quarters in the back of the warehouse Charlene made a rude face and mocked the female Tulsan’s walk and mannerisms. Kaals turned quickly, but didn’t catch the human in the act. Charlene was just standing there with her arms crossed and her hips set. As soon as Kaals closed the door and separated them Charlene made another rude gesture and then returned to her work on the engine lift.
Charlene worked the morning away. She got the lift working with help from Lucifer. She wasn’t up to climbing that rope again. After that, she built some workbenches and unpacked the crates. Everything they had, had been bought with the prize money from the race. Charlene had no personal positions save Lucifer. In all her travels over the past few years in the vain attempt to ‘release the Charley within’ she had acquired nothing that she had wished to keep. There was no point in owning anything if you knew you were going to die. She had just finished putting the last of her equipment away when her first ‘assignment’ came in.
An older looking male mouse came into the newly refurbished garage and walk up to her. He was maybe seven feet tall and built like a tank. His civilian work clothes were caked with red Martian soil and his white fur was dusted orange. He took his protective goggles off and shook the dirt from his head. Charlene grimaced and asked herself if all Martian males were born mess makers. The mouse extended his hand in greeting and Charlene ignored it. No since in making friends.
"I’m Lars. Stoker set me to get ya," he said nervously. The refusal of a hand shake obviously unnerving him.
Charlene felt her heart leap when she heard the name ‘Stoker’, but she couldn’t conceive why. She put that thought aside and addressed the mouse.
"So. What do you want?" she asked sharply.
"Uhmm… One of our irrigation transports is busted out in the field Stoke wants you to come out and look at it."
There it was again. That little jump.
"Do you have any idea what’s wrong with it?" Charlene asked trying to ignore the feeling.
"We’re leakin’ oil all over the place."
Charlene nodded to Lars and went to pack Lucifer with what she thought she might need. After that was done she grabbed a pair of her riding jeans and changed behind one of the unpacked creates. She had left her jacket and boots next to Lucifer and put those on before she pushed her ride out of the garage. Lars led the way through town and out to the fields.
The Martians didn’t have much in the way of agriculture, but what they had was well taken care of. It was quite a ride from town. The only suitable land was right on the edge of the desert. Charlene spotted her patient right away. It was a moderately sized irrigation transport, one of two they had out there. There were a few mice around it, mostly just cleaning up the mess it had made. Charlene pulled up a long side the transport and shooed away the extra bodies. All but one left.
Charlene ignored the female mouse that had stayed behind and went right to work assessing the damage. She slid underneath and started looking for the problem. As she began to search, she noticed that the brown furred mouse was following her as she scooted around. Charlene stalled for time under the vehicle, hoping that the mouse would just go away, but she persisted. Finally, having checked everything and not finding a problem she came out. The female mouse was there to greet her.
"You’re Charlene Davidson. The one they call Angel, aren’t you?" she asked almost in awe.
Charlene snorted, "I’m Charlene, but I ain’t no angel, sister."
Charlene walked to the engine and lifted the cover, the mouse followed. "No… you’re her. The one that rescued us from Torren. I’ve seen your picture at the monument"
The human turned to look at the girl. She couldn’t have been more than seventeen years old and the adoration Charlene saw in her eyes was too much.
"Look, sister. I don’t know who you think I am, but I ain’t no savior. Now if you don’t mind I got work to do and you’re in my way."
The girl looked confused and hurt. She kept staring at Charlene and the human was starting to get agitated. She was about to tell the mouse were to go when a cry rose up in the field.
"Sand Raiders!"
"Sand what?" Charlene asked, but the girl was already gone, running after the call.
Charlene followed out of curiosity and saw what all the excitement was about. On the other side of the small field was a subterranean borrowing machine that was now unloading buggy upon buggy of ugly dog-like creatures. They started firing on the dozen or so workers that were trying to defend themselves with whatever equipment was around. For a moment time froze.
For the smallest fraction of a second Charlene no longer saw the cultivated field or the barren desert beyond. Instead she saw a lush valley and a group of workers digging in the ground. One of them started to come at her. In a flash it was gone, but Charlene looked down and to her horror she held a shovel in her hands. She dropped it as if it was on fire and started to tremble.
All around her laser fire lit up the ground. Blowing up huge clumps of dirt and plant life. One of the buggies was coming towards her, the passenger was leveling his laser rifle at her. It only took seconds for her to react. She sent a signal to Lucifer and instantly the buggy and its two occupants were bathed in burning gel. They screamed in pain and rolled out of the vehicle on to the ground trying to smother the flames. Knowing that they were out numbered and out gunned, Charlene chose to stay separate from Lucifer, hoping to divide their attention and buy them some time.
She sent her bike around to take out as many Sand Raiders as it could while she improvised. She took some of the bottles of oil that were lying around from the clean up and tore a piece of her shirt off. After stuffing the homemade wick in the end she lit it with her ever-present lighter and tossed it. It wasn’t much of an explosion but it was enough to get their attention. A Sand Raider buggy zeroed in on her. She dodged the laser fire and felt her leg give way. She cursed her stupidity that morning for showing off and took off her jacket.
As the Sand Raiders tried to run her over she rolled herself between the wheels and stuffed her jacket around the drive shaft. The vehicle went a few more meters and then stopped. She hobbled her way over to the disabled buggy while they were still confused about the loss of their ride and climbed aboard. Charlene’s computer mind quickly raced through her database of fighting moves and as always the most lethal moves came up first. She ignored that one and used a blow to the side of driver and passenger’s necks to knock them out.
Now she had firepower. She took their rifles and got behind the out of commission Sand Raider buggy. She took pot shots now and then, trying to give Lucifer as much cover as possible. It seemed like forever before some reinforcements came. In the distance the sound of several powerful engines could be heard. She never thought that the sound of Martian cycles would sound so good. She chanced a look over the hood of her shelter and saw four motorcycles coming in her direction.
The red, racer style bike took the led and blasted through the back line of the Sand Raider’s assault. With more bravo than brains, the rider put him and his bike between the Raiders and Charlene. This made it impossible for Charlene to give any cover fire. She signaled for Lucifer to pick her up. This jackass was going to get them both killed.
When her bike got there she quickly assessed the situation. The standard Freedom Fighter bike and rider took a position in front of the civilian workers and laid on the cover fire for the other two bikers. Those two started corralling the Raiders between them and were taking them out one by one. They seemed to have a plan, but the crazy metal head in front of her was fighting on pure adrenaline. Charlene wasn’t willing to trust her life to some manic with a death wish. She turned Lucifer toward the white Martian male and hit the gas. She used the loon as a distraction and jumped over him and fired at the Raiders below as she passed overhead. By the time she landed all of their assailants had been taken out.
Charlene turned Lucifer toward where the civilian workers were congratulating their rescuers and her temper blew hot. She skidded to a stop in front of them sending soil and burned crops all over them. Her anger was running so high that she didn’t even notice that none of the other bikers had removed their helmets. Charlene leapt off of Lucifer and stomped her way over to them.
"Where the hell were you?!" she demanded out of them. "You knew that there were Sand Raiders out there. What were you idiots doing? Playing Tiddlely Winks or something?"
The biker straddling the Freedom Fighter cycle ripped his helmet off and glared at her. "Now wait a god dang minute…"
"Wait?!" Charlene blasted. "If I had have waited for you lugheads we all would have been scattered from here to Mt. Olympus. What kind of lack wit outfit are you running Stoker?"
For a moment all four bikers froze, but that didn’t slow Charlene any.
"And you…" she accused, turning to the white mouse that had just dismounted from his bike. "What the hell was that? Were you trying to get yourself killed?"
The Martian Biker held up his hands in defense, but Charlene didn’t let up.
"Do you realize how badly we were out numbered?" she asked poking him in the stomach with her finger.
"Do you have anything between those big ears besides pudding?" she asked as she pushed him with both hands.
"You could have been killed doing something as stupid as…"
Suddenly Charlene noticed that her hands, that had been covered with oil from her impromptu bomb earlier, now left green-brown handprints on the mouse’s stomach. The dripping greenish color was a stark contrast to the pure white. All of a sudden it didn’t look like oil anymore, but thick Martian blood and lots of it. She looked up in shock, but instead of seeing her face in the visor of the mouse’s helmet she could see her tear streaked face in the refection of a silver facemask.
Charlene turned around and threw up in the charred ground at her feet until her belly was empty. She felt had hand at her shoulder and smacked it away without looking. In an instant it was back again and she turned to glare at the owner.
"Are you all right Beautiful?"
Charlene backed away from the mouse she knew was Stoker and didn’t know why. "Stay away from me." She warned.
"Were just trying to help you Charley," he said.
"What did you call me?" she demanded, feeling her heart beat so painfully she thought she might pass out.
Stoker tried to put his arms around her and she sucker punched him. The three other bikers caught him as he fell back and Charlene got onto Lucifer and tore out of there. She could barely see the road in front of her, but Lucifer kept her steady. She rode straight into garage and hopped off of Lucifer before it stopped. She stormed into the back room and found Kaals instantly. She grabbed the startled Tulsan and shook her.
"What the hell have you done?!" she yelled at her before she threw her to the cot in the room.
Charlene raced around the room. Collecting some clothes to replace her ruined ones. She had no spare jacket so she went without. Kaals scrambled off the cot and collected her hand computer, but before she could do anything with it Charlene smacked it out of her hands.
"Leave me ALONE!" she screamed, trying to focus and keep herself sane.
"Charlene, let me help you. You are obviously distraught…"
"Distraught? Hell I’m pissed out of my mind. What were you trying to do me, sending them after me? Don’t you know how dangerous they are?!"
Charlene didn’t even know what she was talking about, it was like someone else was talking but that didn’t matter. She had to get away and fast. She scooped up Kaals computer and jacked into it. She quickly typed in a command and she grimaced in pain when the tracking devise in her circuits fried. She yanked the connection out and went to Lucifer to remove his. It was a simple matter to pull the chip out. She threw it to the ground and smashed it to dust under her boot heel. She grabbed some extra clothes and went back into the other room.
Before she could take two steps someone grabbed her arms pinning them to her sides and lifted her off the ground. She tried desperately to establish a link with Lucifer, but only found static. She looked up into the gray furred mouse’s charred face and panicked. Cheap shots always worked best. She brought her knee up between his legs and to his credit he only fell to his knees and didn’t let go. Charlene brought her arms up between his and knocked them away. She put both her fists together and hit him upside his head that was now level with her shoulders. Already stunned from the first blow he went down. Charlene tried to run then but when she looked up the other two mice were there.
"Stay away!" she warned.
"We’re only trying to help Charley-girl," the tan mouse said, his arms open wide to show he wasn’t holding a weapon. His head was turned at an impossible angle.
"Don’t call me that! She’s dead."
"What happened?" Kaals asked when she came into the room.
"Sand Raider attacked the field were she was at. We had to come. We were the only ones around," the tan mouse said.
Charlene kept her eyes on the two upright mice in front of her and inched her way over to Lucifer. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, there were too many voices in her head. She climbed on to her bike and started it up. The white mouse tried to get in her way. He was saying something but she couldn’t understand him. She couldn’t see him past the blood she saw covering his stomach. She pushed her way forward and he had to jump out of her way or get run over. She was almost to the door when a cream colored female and a silvery gray young mouse came through the door. Charlene hit the breaks and slid to a stop in front of them.
"Mama," the boy said, it was the only thing she heard.
Charlene looked to the female mouse and saw the recognition in her eyes. For a moment Charlene saw her in grainy black and white in a cell cradling a newborn. ‘Take care of him for me,’ she heard her own voice say.
"Who are you?" she asked the boy.
"Don’t you know me Mama? Don’t you know who you are?" he asked.
Charlene couldn’t answer. The boy took a locket from around his neck and handed it to her. She read the back without understanding. She opened it up and looked at the pictures, but there was nothing. She didn’t recognize them. The dead woman was looking back at her. Laughing at her, mocking her. She had been Charley once, but no more. She didn’t know who or what she was but that woman was dead.
"Sorry kid. Your mother’s dead. She died a long time ago," she tossed the locket back. "Just get over it."
Charlene rode out the door not knowing were she was going or caring.
==
A figure stumble into the street. Another followed, but when it tried to put its arm around the first it was knocked to the ground with a strong backhanded blow.
"Buzz kill," Charlene Davidson said as she weaved her way back to her bike.
She was veering dangerously off coarse, but Lucifer compensated for it’s master’s inebriation and intercepted her. Charlene laid herself across the seat and clumsily groped for the bottle she knew was hiding in Lucifer’s side bags. She took another long drink and wiped her mouth with her shirt sleeve. The bottle was thrown to the ground for daring to be empty.
"You do realize Luc that you’re the only one for me?" she asked the bike and got a beep in response.
"No, I mean it. You’re the only one I trust. Come on let’s fine someplace to go."
Charlene got on and tried to steer, but after riding up on the curb and knocking three rubbish cans to the ground Lucifer took over. Charlene was content to let the bike take her were it willed. It didn’t matter to her where they went as long as they kept moving. They rode for several minutes before a sign caught her eye. In Martian it read, ‘This way to the Angel of Torren Memorial’. Charlene yanked on the handlebars and turned Lucifer in that direction.
It was only a few minutes more to the memorial. Charlene was surprised to see that in actuality it was a Plutarkian prison transport ship. She parked Lucifer outside and told it to say put. She leaned over the bike’s seat and reached into the opposite saddle bag and retrieved a clear unmarked bottle, half full of liquid. Charlene stumbled her way to the plaque were a life sized picture of Charley Daivdson was placed.
"This is in memory of Charlene ‘Charley’ Davidson who lost her life saving so many," she read out loud. "What a freakin saint you were Miss Charley Davidson," Charlene slurred as she saluted the picture with her liquor bottle.
Charlene looked around where she stood and found a chunk of red Martian rock. She nearly fell over when she tried to pick it up. On the third try she scooped it up and lurched herself over to the picture. With the aid of the rock, Charlene began to alter the photo. She extended the length of Charley’s hair to her waist. She banged with the rock until she had knocked out the picture’s eyes and then proceeded to draw a set of horns, mustache, goatee and devil’s tail.
"There," she said satisfied. "You should always have a current photo."
Charlene glared at her own bad joke and stumbled to the entrance of the monument. The door sensor activated when Charlene came near and began it’s programmed spiel.
"The monument is now close to visitors. Please return during normal hours 7am to 8pm weekdays," the professional sounding female voice instructed.
"Sorry sister. I’m not a visitor. I’m the deceased."
Charlene looked at the door lock key pad, while her eyesight was computer perfect her aim was a little off. She had to grab both sides of it to keep it from moving. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. Charlene ran her thumbs over the surface of each of the keys and with the enhanced touch of her sensor webbing was able to tell which keys were smoother than the others because of constant use. Four keys stood out and it was a simple matter of trying all of the different combinations until the lock clicked open.
"Open sesame," she mumbled as she pushed her way inside.
Once inside the same automated voice that had greeted her at the door started to give a long, unending monologue of the life and times of Charlene ‘Charley’ Davidson. Charlene grimaced and glared at the unseen speakers. The room she was in was the main control room of the Plutarkian transport ship. Along one wall was the view screen and control panels and covering the other were hundreds of picture from the day the transport had arrived with its cargo of rescued Martians.
Charlene was becoming increasingly annoyed at the voice that just kept going on and on and on. She went over to the first set of controls that were dormant and started pushing buttons and flipping switches. Lights came on, then off, things buzzed then turned on. Doors opened and closed and even once the engines came on for a moment, but the voice never stopped.
"Would you just SHUT UP!" Charlene screamed at the voice and magically it stopped.
The room went silent and an uneasy feeling creep up Charlene’s spine. She turned around swiftly, but saw no one. She rubbed her arms trying to get the feeling that she was being watched out of her. She looked around at the pictures on the wall for a moment. The faces blurred together, she didn’t recognize any of them. She kept looking hoping and fearing that she would see something she’d remember. Then at the end of the row was a photo that did spark something.
Five figures stood in front of the transport, red dirt blew around them as they stood there. The picture was obviously unplanned. The tan and white mouse that had confronted her at the garage were turned away from the camera talking to each other. The tall gray mouse was facing forward, but he was more interested in the small light gray mouse he held and the dirty ivory colored female that was standing next to him. The female mouse seemed to be offering to take the child, but he seemed reluctant to let go. The little boy was looking around him in wonder.
‘Take him home. Let him grow up free’. She heard somewhere in her mind.
Charlene reached out to touch the picture, but jerked back as if burned. She continued to stare at the photo unable to look away. She looked at the gray mouse’s mechanical arm and a thought struck her. So strong, but always so gentle. She shifted her eyes over to the pair that were talking. The tan mouse looked to be comforting his companion. Always the leader, never thinking of himself. The white mouse seemed close to tears, but fighting it with everything that he had. So unlike him, to be so emotional, but so like him to be fighting it.
Charlene turned away from the picture and tried to find where these thoughts came from. She searched her data banks but could find no reference for the things she had thought so unconsciously. Her hands trembled so bad that the liquor in the bottle looked as if it was boiling. Charlene tried to find the systems malfunction, but there wasn’t one. She looked back at the photo and gasped.
Her mind had changed the scene before her. The gray mouse leered at her with malicious glee. His metal arm was charred and blackened, his antenna were burnt and twisted. The tan one’s head was bent at an impossible angle, he was grinning at her knowingly. But the most disturbing one was the white mouse. His belly was covered in his own blood that flowed from the fist-sized hole there. His arms were held out to her as if to invite her in.
"No… I had to…" she whispered, backing herself into the corner of the room.
"What did you have to do, Charlene?" a familiar voice asked.
"I don’t know," she answered.
"What frightens you so badly? What did they do?" the voice asked again.
"I don’t know!" Charlene yelled back, turning towards the voice.
To her shocked horror, Charlene found herself looking in to the computer image of Charlene ‘Charley’ Davidson. She looked the same as she had before the Plutarkians had taken her. Her hair was short, coming to rest on her shoulders. She was wearing a blue mechanic’s uniform with long sleeves rolled up to past her elbows.
"Who are you?" Charlene asked, fearing the answer.
"You know who I am. I am what you made me," came the simple answer.
"No… you’re dead. You died on Torren."
"That isn’t entirely true. The Plutarkians did succeed in copying your mind, but that is all that I am, a copy. You sent me to make sure that Chance and all of the prisoners made it home safely. All that I am is inside you"
"That can’t be true. I don’t remember you. I don’t remember anything. Why can’t I remember? I had friends, a son. Why can’t I remember my own son?!" Charlene demanded.
"I don’t know."
"Then what good are you!" Charlene yelled as she hurled the bottle in her hand at the screen.
It hit with a shattering of glass, and when the broken electronics sparked, the alcohol in the bottle ignited into a fireball. Liquid fire rained down on the control panels catching a few on fire. Charlene turned away to face the corner. The fire had sparked an elemental fear in her, and she didn’t know why.
"I can help," Charley’s voice said from the many speakers in the room.
"How can you help me if you don’t know what happened to me?"
"I know where all of your demons live. I know where the nightmares hide."
Charlene felt an intruding signal resonate with the processors in her head. It spread out to all of systems and beyond. Long dormant synaptic functions flared to life. Parts of her organic mind awakened and she was powerless to stop them. The first thing she saw was fire.
"Daddy!" she heard a child scream knowing it was herself.
"Daddy!" she cried again. Fear burned her as she saw herself crouching in the corner of her room.
The flames were coming toward her. They were between her and the door. There was no way out, but there was one person that could save her.
"Daddy!"
"Here Charley. I’m here."
Suddenly her father was beside her, wrapping her in a wet blanket. His dark brown hair was singed and his face was streaked with soot. He picked her up and jumped back through the flames, holding her face against his chest. They made it down the stairs and at the bottom was her mother. Just before they reached her the ceiling above collapsed. Charley went flying as her father threw her from him. Her mother picked her up and ran from the room. Over her mother’s shoulder Charley could see her father trapped under the burning timbers. It was the last time she ever saw him.
The scene shifted. Now she was at a race track. Jimmy, her current boyfriend, gave her a kiss and then put on his helmet. She could feel the dread well up in her heart. Jimmy was racing his brother’s red racer for the first time. Charley had begged him to let her give the bike a once over. It had been sitting idle for months, but Jimmy had just laughed her off saying that a girl should be doing such things.
The racers went to the line. Jimmy gave her a wave and leaned onto his bike. The race started and before he even got a hundred feet the bike came out from underneath him. He went down hard, but didn’t stop where he fell. The bike dragged him for what seemed like an eternity, but finally he stopped. Charley was already running, but before she could reach him someone stopped her. She fought with them but they wouldn’t let her go. She saw the ambulance pulled up beside him and several people jump out with a stretcher. They went to his side, flinging open boxes, but as soon as they removed his helmet they stopped. They carefully lifted him onto the stretcher and then pulled the blanket at the foot all the way over him, over his head. All Charley could hear was her own screams.
Her screams were replaced with the cries of others. It took her a moment to realize that she was now on Sellous Prime. Dozens of Plutarkians were running around the burning complex. But something was wrong. They were too small to be Plutarkians, it didn’t make sense.
"Blow up the damn building, Charlene." Throttle said beside her.
In her hand was the detonator to the explosives that she had planted earlier. The tan mouse became impatient and ripped it from her hand. He pushed the button. The center building went up in a fire column. The two mice to her left cheered and Charley watched as they took aim on the Plutarkians that had not made it to the building, thinking falsely that it was a safe haven.
"Come on. We need to reload," Modo said as he checked the blaster he was using.
Something was wrong. Modo didn’t need a blaster.
"Let’s go before they get too far," Vinnie said as he got into the all-terrain vehicle that was their transportation.
It was wrong. Where were the bikes?
"Come on," Throttle said as he dragged her by the arm to the vehicle.
It was a short ride to their hide out. The guys quickly went around reloading their blasters and picking up other heavier weapons.
"Are you coming, Charlene?" Vinnie asked her. He never called her Charlene.
"No I…" she couldn’t think of an excuse.
"Let her stay. She isn’t working right," Throttle said as he led them out of the room.
Charlene looked around the room when they left. Everything seemed so wrong. Stock piles of deadly weapons everywhere. In the corners, under the table and the three bunks, but not a single Martian weapon. Charley sat down on the floor and tried to get her spinning head to stop hurting. She tried to keep telling herself that she was imagining things. The Plutarkians had done a lot of stuff to her head. That had to be it. But her mind kept returning to one fact. They were too small to be Plutarkians.
Maybe they were children. The thought chilled her blood. Throttle would never tell her to attack children, even if they were Plutarkian. Maybe he didn’t know. Maybe they were hiding when he did his scouting mission. Charley had to know. She grabbed her jacket and went back to the complex. It was a short run for her. She could ignore her body and push it to its limits. By the time she got there the guys were gone. She could hear them in the distance, fighting.
She looked around the complex. Bodies were everywhere. All of them dead and all of them too small to be Plutarkians, but they were Plutarkians. She could see that with her own eyes, but something else was wrong. Where was the smell? All Plutarkians smelled, and a Plutarkian base should reek, but there was no smell. Charley went to the nearest body and rolled it over.
Seafoam green eyes stared lifelessly back at her. Since when did Plutarkians have green eyes and gold hair? Charley put her hand out and touched the hair that shouldn’t be there. Charley pulled away stunned. She stumbled away and tripped. She looked down at what she had fallen over. Under her legs was another body, even smaller than the rest, and definitely not Plutarkian.
The child, and it was a child. It still clutched a burnt doll in its still arms, it had pale blue skin and short golden hair that moved with the wind. A child. She had killed a child. They had killed children, and they weren’t Plutarkians. Something was wrong. This couldn’t be. No matter how much the bros hated the Plutarkians they wouldn’t kill innocents. They wouldn’t kill children.
Charley ran from the compound and followed the sounds of battle. She had to find out what was going on. When she came to the top of the hill her blood stilled. There they were, attacking the Plutarkians that weren’t Plutarkians. No that wasn’t right. They weren’t attacking, they were hunting and having the time of their lives doing it. They ran down the ones that were out in the open and they taunted and jeered at the ones they shot.
She ran from what she saw. It couldn’t be true. They couldn’t have changed that much. The war couldn’t have done that to them. But could she deny what she saw? Charley ran back to the place she had called home for months now. They had told her that it was necessary, that the Plutarkians had to be stopped, but they weren’t Plutarkians.
Charley looked into the reflective surface of the room’s only mirror. She didn’t recognize the person that looked back. Gone were her green eyes, the only feature that she had ever thought was beautiful. Her red-brown hair was cut in a short pixie style, so unlike how she preferred it. She ran her figures along the surface of her skin and the sensitive tips of her fingers and could feel every small hair. When she would pass over a external sensor wire and small tingling back feed would result. Who was she? What had she become?
When she tried to lift her other hand to do the same thing she found to her horror that she held the doll the child had been clutching. When had she picked that up? She ran her fingers over the doll’s yarn hair and its loose button eyes. Had it been a birthday present? Had the child’s eyes lit up with joy when he had received it? Did his mother spend hours looking for just the right doll? Something primal and protective rose in Charley. This had to stop and there was only one way she could do it. Her decision made, she went to a particular pile of weapons and pulled out what she needed. Then she waited.
It wasn’t long before they came. As was usual, Modo and Throttle were back first. Modo came in and stayed in the main room and Throttle went to the back to reload his blaster. Modo had to be first. He was the only one that had the strength to stop her. She waited until his back was turned to her and charged the Electronic Disrupter. She touched his mechanical arm with the charged end and the result was immediate. The Disrupter fried all of his brain functions and he went down with a strangled cry.
Throttle came back into the room at the sound. He went to his fallen friend. He knelt beside Modo and placed his still body in his lap. He had ignored Charley intirely. It was his last mistake. Why did he have to make that mistake?
"Help me Charlene," he said as he tried to lift the lifeless body.
"I’ll help you, Throttle. The only way I know how."
She came up behind him and placed his head against her chest and the tan mouse was clearly surprised by her action. Charley held his head tightly and twisted. She held him for a moment remembering how many times that she had wanted to do this to comfort him, to relieve some of the tension and pressure of being leader from him. Now he would never have to worry again. Charley knew that she had a few minutes before Vinnie came. He always stayed out longer than the other two.
Charley carried Throttle to the back room where he had come from and placed him in the corner where he would be out of sight. She went to Modo and picked up his much too light body and placed him on his cot. He always laid down after a battle. She pulled his covers over his charred arm and wondered and the burnt hair smell. She had touched the Disrupter on his metal arm. There shouldn’t be such an odor. She didn’t have a chance to think about it more when Vinnie came home.
He burst into the room and threw his weapons on his cot. Charley turned her back to him and retrieved her weapon of choose. It was a blaster of her own design. It fit onto her forearm leaving her hands free. It worked by responding to precise movement of the muscles in her arm. Vinnie called for Throttle, Charley knew that she only had a few moments before he realized something was wrong. She turned towards him and froze.
She couldn’t do it, but she had to. She had to. He was speaking to her, but she couldn’t hear what he said. He held out his arms to her and like so many times before, she went to him willingly. He stroked her backside in a rough manner and when she didn’t respond he stepped back a bit and looked into her face. He reached out his hands and held her face. Tears streamed down her face, knowing what she had to do. He came close to her so that her arm was trapped between them. He leaned toward her with a startled expression on his face. He pulled away and looked down at the hole in his stomach. Charley didn’t even remember firing. He slowly started to sink to the floor and she helped him. Over and over again she told him how sorry she was. Holding his body as it got cold.
"I’m sorry," Charlene whimpered in the corner.
The fire in the control panel had destroyed all of the Copy Charley, but her legacy remained. Charlene remembered everything… everything. She hugged her arms around herself and let herself fall to her side.
"I’m sorry. Oh God, I’m so sorry," she whispered as she laid there. She didn’t even know who she was speaking to anymore. Maybe it was to the three XenoX that she had believed were her friends. Maybe it was to the Tulsans she had murdered. Maybe it was to her son. Maybe it was to herself, but all she could say was…
"I’m sorry."
End chapter 4