Chapter 5

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That night, lying on top of her sheets, Leona made her decision. There was no
way she was going to achieve this alone. None of her contacts had heard
anything about Mrs. Black since she'd escaped yesterday, and the news was
steeped with reports of a gunfight outside a pro-life pregnancy centre. Any
important disturbances would be bound to be lost in the noise. It was time to
bring in... him.

Leona strode towards the Planned Pregnancy clinic. Since her enemies were
bound to know her car by now, she had decided to walk. As she approached
the clinic, she noticed Peter Gunn in the parking lot, one arm in a sling,
handing out tracts to passers by. He made a move to approach her but she
brandished a cricket bat at him, causing him to jump into the bushes and
hide.

She stepped into the clinic and approached the reception counter.

"I'm here for an appointment," she said.

"Did you have it scheduled?" asked the receptionist, not looking up from her
computer as she worked her way down a column of figures.

"I just now decided. Is it possible to get it done really quick?," said Leona in a
flat monotone, as if reciting.

"Honey, that not how-" the woman started, before her eyes suddenly went
wide as she recognised the pass word. She looked up into Leona's eyes. "Why
don’t you have a seat in the lobby and I’ll see if we have a doctor free," she
said, sliding a piece of note paper across the desk without glancing at it.

Leona palmed the paper and glanced at it as she moved into the waiting
room. On it was scribbled "3rd blue seat from the right, 2 minutes."

She took a seat as indicated, and glanced around her.

There were three others in the waiting room, all women. Two of them had a
blank, vacant look to their eyes and were staring at nothing with a slight
smile. The third looked considerably more alert and was glancing at the other
two nervously. She caught Leona's eye and stood up changing seats and
moving away from the other two.
"Hi. I'm Kate," she said.

"Leona,"

Kate leaned in and spoke quietly out of the corner of her mouth. "Whatever
you do, don't try to talk to those two. I think they're on drugs or something.
It's really creeping me out."

Leona considered chiding her for being rude, but she had to admit, Kate had
a point. The other two women both had the exact same blank expression,
and now that she looked closer she realised they were also sitting in the
same posture: hands folded in their laps, backs held slightly too straight...

The two women, noticing her gaze, turned to look at her. It wasn't a natural
movement: both faces swivelled smoothly towards her in perfect
synchronisation.

Next to her, Kate shuddered and shifted slightly further away.

"Hi honey. First time here?" said one of the women. Her voice sounded fairly
normal, but with a slightly odd accent Leona couldn't place.

"Yeah, sure," said Leona, ignoring Kate's frantic 'don't talk' gestures.

"Don't worry. It is nothing really. It is like getting an overgrown toenail

removed. That is pretty much what it is like," said the woman.

"Ooooo-kay," said Leona, raising an eyebrow at the... woman? Leona was

starting to have serious doubts about its humanity....

"And now she'll insist on telling you..." muttered Kate.

The thing laughed, almost freakishly. "It is my fifth time."

"... yeah. That."

"Miss Kaitlyn Lyones?" said a doctor holding a clipboard, coming around the
corner. "You're in for a routine check-up?"

"Oh thank god," said Kate, sounding extremely relieved. She jumped out of
her chair and hurried after the doctor, glancing back to wish Leona luck. And
stopping.

Leona was gone. So was the chair she had been sitting on.
An extremely eventful minute and a half later, Leona's chair came to a rest
deep underground, much to her relief. She stood up and stumbled, waiting
for the world to stop spinning and doing everything in her power to keep her
breakfast down.

Recovering her balance and reining in her stomach, Leona stared down the
darkly lit black-metal corridor. She had to admit, insane though the man who
lived down here undoubtedly was, he had style. The elaborate underground
chair ride was so stereotypical and clichéd, you had to admire someone nuts
enough to actually use it in this day and age. She just wished he didn't have
to build it with so much spinning.

From the other end of the corridor came a loud electrical crack, immediately
followed by the echoing sound of maniacal laughter.

She trotted to the other end, and entered a large open space. In the middle
was a... thing. A giant, mechanical... thing. The author realises that more
description is called for, but really doesn't know where to start. We'll just say
that every photon the bulky device reflects practically screams "doomsday
device" and leave it at that, okay? This was partly due to the atmosphere of
malevolent ominous-ness*around it, but mainly due to the words "D00mSdAY
dEVicE" painted inexpertly on its front side.

On a section of scaffolding halfway up the... thing was a man wearing a white

lab coat and lit from underneath by electrical blue light. He had a small,
scruffy beard, but this seemed to be more a result of not shaving for a few
days rather than a stylistic choice. His hair was likewise scruffy, but despite
what may be expected in cases like this it was not white and sticking out of
his head in random directions. It was instead a rather unassuming shade of
brown, and looked as though he had at least tried to achieve some
semblance of neatness. It was difficult to tell his age, but Leona didn't think
he could possibly be older than 45.

He appeared to be welding but in deference to convention he would stop

every few seconds, flip up the welding mask, hold his hands aloft and let out
a loud cackle of laughter or scream something about how "this would show
them".

Leona had to shout to get his attention. Glancing over the railing he waved to
her, and hit a button to lower the scaffolding.

"Ah Miss-" he started, and paused. "What's your name again?"

"Leona," said Leona.

"No your last name," he said, frowning while the author cursed his crappy
memory and tried desperately to remember whether it had even been
specified.

"Why does it matter, Brian?" asked Leona, raising an eyebrow.

"I... don't know," said the man, confused, the grin returning to his face as the
author gave up and RELINQUISHED DIRECT CONTROL.**

"Do you like it?" he said, motioning towards the massive device behind him.

"I don't know, Brian" said Leona, warily eyeing the thing. "What is it?"

"It's a doomsday device," Brian said proudly.

"I can see that, but what does it do?"

"It brings about doomsday," Brian said slowly, carefully enunciating each
word for the hard-of-thinking. "That's why it's called a doomsday device."

"Yes but how does it do that?"

Brian looked at her and opened his mouth. He paused, then turned to look at
the machine. He closed his mouth. There was an awkward pause, before he
smacked himself hard on the forehead. "Dammit!"

He looked rueful. Leona took pity on him. "Well, at least it looks the part," she
said. "I could tell what it was meant to be straight up."

"I know when I'm being patronised," Brian said, glaring at her.

"Oh. Well in that case-"

"I didn't say stop," he said hurriedly, smiling lopsidedly at her. "By the way,
did you spot my androids on the way in?"

"Andr-" Leona started, and then her eyes widened in realisation. "Oh. That
whole situation makes so much more sense now."

"They're meant to be human-replica robots, but I'm still halfway through the
debug process," Brian said, wandering over to a very old-style computer
console and hitting what appeared to be a few random buttons.

"Well, they never use contractions and they don't know the difference
between 'overgrown' and 'ingrown'..."

"Yeah, contractions are hard," said Brian, twisting a dial.

"I realise I'm gonna regret asking this, but why are you building human
replica robots?"

"Ever seen Terminator?" he asked, eyes on what looked like a speedometer

as a low whining noise began to fill the room.

"Yeah, I thought it'd be something like that," Liona said with a sigh. She
remembered what she was here for. "But anyway, I had something I wanted
to ask you."

"Yes, yes, what you want ask me. It's always about you isn't it? Does anyone
ever ask me what I want to ask them?" Brian said rather irritably. The whining
noise was getting louder and higher pitched, like a jet turbine.

"Well... what do you want to ask me?!" shouted Leona over the whining
sound. It really was getting quite loud, and loose bolts were starting to
vibrate across the desk.

"Absolutely nothing!" Brian shouted back cheerfully. The whining noise

stopped abruptly, accompanied by a 'Ding' not dissimilar to a microwave
oven. He turned to the device next to him, which started pouring brown liquid
into a cup. "Coffee's up! What did you want to ask."

"What? Oh, right..." said Leona, thrown by the coffee machine. She slid a
photo of Mrs Black across the desk. "I need to track this person."

Brian glanced at the photo, pressed four buttons on the console, took a sip of
coffee and said "She's four point seven-two miles south-south-east of this
location."

There was a long pause.

"Your mouth is hanging open," Brian observed, taking another sip of coffee.

Leona shut her mouth, then opened it again. "How... in the hell... did you do
that?!" she spluttered

"Science."

"And you're sure?"

"'Course I'm sure. I'm a genius, remember?"

"You're completely loco, is what you are!"

Brian looked hurt. "But in a good way, right?"

Leona grinned, and on an impulse leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.
"Absolutely. I'll see you later, okay?"

Brian watched her walk back down the corridor, a slight smile on his face. He
looked down at the photograph and turned it slightly to get a better look.
"As with any game, the trick is to know the winner in advance," he said under
his breath. "Miranda Black, huh? You're good, you're damn good... but sonic
mind control? That's cheating. If you want to take over the world, you damn
well better play fair, because if you don't..." he glanced again at Leona's
retreating back as she vanished into the distance, and grinned evilly, "... I'll
set the wolves on you."

He hit a few more buttons, at the doomsday device behind him began to glow
ominously.

"Ha. Ha hahahahaaah! AAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAARGH!!!!! ..."

Dizzy and fighting down breakfasts second attempt to come out for a little
fresh air, Leona stumbled out of the Planned Parenthood clinic into the light
of day. As her eyes adjusted, Peter Gunn approached her again.

"What do you think you're doing here?" he demanded, a move so utterly out
of character that it gave the author whiplash.

Leona pulled a broadsword on him, and Peter crouched back submissively.

"I'm sorry! Please don't hit me! I just really need to talk to you!" The author,
relieved that the status quo had been re-established, decided to give him a
chance to influence the storyline.

"What's so urgent?" asked Leona, glaring at the man.

"It's Mrs Black! She's sent her two best agents after you! They're masters of
disguis-" ***

"Who are they?"

"Honestly, I swear I don't know! Please, come with me to the lake. I'll tell you
everything I do know."

"Everything?"

"Everything. I promise."

At this point, the author lost patience with the guy and had Leona hit him
with a rake. Repeatedly.
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*Kids! Don't try making up words at home! It's dangerous and makes you
look really silly!

** If you don't get the reference, you won't get the reference.

*** Ooh! Foreshadowing! I am so subtle!