The whole situation was straight out of a comic book. The battle was on hold while someone answered the phone. And it was definitely some kind of communication device, because the conversation was two-way. The Quinlan would talk, than listen, then talk. A couple of times he rolled his eyes. I realized I was in an untenable position, strategically. While I stared at the guy on the phone, other Quinlans could be…
“Oof!” I said, as some number of Quinlans landed on me. I found myself face down on the ground, my arms and legs pinned by the weight of many bodies. My fault. A Quinlan would've used his mobile eyes to occasionally check for threats from behind. With my human background, I tended to look in one direction at a time.
I fought back, but I was terrified that Bender might be damaged in the struggle. Interestingly, my attackers seem to be just as concerned. Their attack concentrated on immobilizing my limbs, rather than just dog piling. Then my backpack disappeared. I rolled my eyes back - now that it was too late - to see a Quinlan with a knife in one hand and my backpack in the other, severed straps dangling. They had Bender. Escape was no longer an option. I stopped struggling.
No one moved for several seconds. I think they were expecting me to wait for them to relax, then try something. Not unreasonable, but I have no intention of trying to get away without Bender.
One Quinlan leaned down to place his face in my field of view.
“We have the backpack with the cube. You are only a secondary target. The cube will be going to the Administrator, with or without you. Do you understand.”
“Yes,” I said with a grim tone. I wasn't about to volunteer any information about my motivations. I think they would assume that I'd grab the Bender and run, if given the chance. It didn't need to be discussed.
The spokes-critter gestured, Quinlans began slowly removing themselves from the scrum. In moments, I was technically free. I stood and looked around. My backpack was nowhere in sight. About a dozen Quinlans surrounded me, all poised to jump me again if I acted up.
“So, what now?” I said.
The leader pointed to the station door that, until a few minutes ago, I had desperately wanted to get through.
“The cube will be traveling separately, to ensure that you don't try anything.”
I felt ill. I'd lost. 4,000 miles of dodging, only to get caught at the finish line. Then I lifted my chin. It wasn't over. They couldn't actually kill me, and we'd be back - in numbers. With enough scanners to cover the entire topopolis, if necessary. Unless they actually disassembled the matrix. Not bothering with a response, I marched toward the maintenance door. I would cooperate. I would even attempt to negotiate with the Administrator, but if they refused to give up Bender, they were looking at a long, drawn-out guerrilla war. And that was best case.
I tried to pay attention as we marched to the train platform, but my thoughts were dark, and directed inward. I barely noticed as the leader called for a train, and I didn't bother to listen for the requested destination. In seconds, the train door whooshed open and we boarded. The Quinlan crew continued to surround me, but they realized I wasn't going to make a dash for it as long as they had Bender. We all took seats, and the train pulled smoothly away from the station.
The leader, who had sat beside me turned once the acceleration was over.
“Can you tell me why you want the cube so badly?”
I didn't see any point in lying. And the truth might be more helpful.
“It's a friend of mine. And a relative.”
He cocked his head - a very human looking expression. “I don't see the resemblance.”
“You know that the Administrator is not a Quinlan, right?” I replied.
He nodded, and I continued. “So intelligent beings don't have to be flesh and blood.”
He frowned silent for several moments. “It does explain your single-mindedness.” He got up and walked to the other end of the car. I could see that he was talking into whatever comms system he was wearing, no doubt reporting the results of our conversation. Whether that would help or hurt my cause was unknown.
The trip was surprisingly short. Then we trooped along the standard station corridor. I realized quickly that this was a segment mountain complex, rather than a public station. That made sense. We’d come back to a Crew stronghold. They brought me to what I suppose could be called a conference room. It had a table and chairs, anyway. In the middle of the table was a device that at first glance resembled a much more modern version of Motorola.
“We're here,” the leader said into the air as we sat.
“Acknowledged,” the device replied. So, Motorola confirmed.
“Are you the administrator?” I asked.
“I am. You may refer to me as Annek. I have some questions for you.”
“I want my friend back.”
“An answer to a question not asked, and tritely obvious, given the energy you put into avoiding us.”
“This is not negotiable.”
I was mad now. I knew it, and I realized might screw things up. I tried to rein it in.
“This is not a negotiation, so the statement is irrelevant.” Pause. “I'm currently speaking with your partner, Hugh. I will compare your responses. Untruths will not be tolerated. Consequences will be significant. Remember that I possess your cube.”
Well that was a clear threat. I briefly considered a counter-threat, but I was pretty sure that such a response would just lead to a death spiral. Still, best to check with Hugh first.
“Hugh, have you told any whoppers?”
“Nope. Stick to the truth. Trust me, Bob,
