Missing in Action

Sargent Sarae Maase was a follower of the human philosopher Emmanuel Kant and the ethics theory of Formalism that he developed, although she had never heard of either. She hadn't read or even seen the two books he wrote, Grounding for the Metaphysics of of Morals, and The Critique of Practical Reason expostulating Formalism and its virtues either. Never the less, Maas had been following Kantian ethics her whole life, with duty and obligation dictating her ethical conduct in all things.

 

Formalism dictated that Maas focus on the means and not the ends. Commander Kima's orders were quite clear: (1) Bring in Sandy Bell to him alive and unharmed; and (2) if possible, bring in her companion, Volodja Uljanov, unharmed as well as that might make Ms. Bell more cooperative. It didn't matter that Volodja had spared Maas' life when he didn't have to. It didn't matter that she might have two skilled enemies to fight instead of one if she didn't let the street thug kill Volodja. It didn't matter that she didn't particularly like humans in general, and like many in the Votan Collective, would not weep if the whole race was wiped off the face of the planet; and it didn't matter that the human Volodja in particular irked her for getting the drop on her so easily and then lecturing her about it afterwards. None of that mattered, as her duty was clear.

Without hesitation, Maas expertly threw the knife Volodja had given her to cut herself loose, striking the street thug in the base of the neck killing him instantly. As the rest of the thug's gang quickly disappeared into back alleys and down shadowed streets, Maas slowly approached the couple with hands upraised and palms forward. Her duty was clear - bring in the couple - but she had also learned from Commander Kima that diplomacy may often win the battle when brute force cannot.

"Please, a moment of your time," Maas spoke in English with a heavy accent, making it obvious that it wasn't her native language, "I am Sargeant Sarae Maas of the Votan Collective's Elite Guard. We mean neither of you harm, but I must... need... what is word... ah, want, to take you to my Commander. Commander Kima is good man, and wishes only to give safe transport to Sandra Bell to Capital City for questioning. Then take you wherever you want. Guarantee no harm. Please come?"

Sandy turned her big blue eyes to Volodja, then back to Sargent Maas, asking, "Why me?"

A flash of confusion crossed the beautiful Irathian's face before a smile bloomed on her lush lips in understanding as she replied, "You not know? You were last one to see Erika Widowmaker alive."

"You heard the man," Said Sandy Bell with a smile on her pretty tanned face, "I'll be glad to tell you everything I remember from when I last saw Erika, but I warn you, it isn't much. See you in five hours."

"Humans are so... infuriating," Though Sargent Maas as she calculated the odds of taking Sandra Bell by brute force, which had been her original plan.

Maas was pretty sure she could win against either Bell or her protector in a one-on-one unarmed combat, but not both, especially when this Volodja Uljanov was armed with his very sharp shovel and she had left her knife stuck in the head of the street thug. She mentally winced as she recalled how it felt to have the sapper shovel stuck against her ribs. Since brute force wasn't as option to fulfill her duty, perhaps retreat for the moment was best for all. Furthermore, she had an ace up her sleeve, so she merely shook her purple tresses curtly in agreement, then quickly disappeared onto a busy thorough fare.

Sargent Maas cut a swath through the late morning crowds on the streets of Cuzco as she made her way back to the hotel which had become Commander Kima's temporary headquarters. She made her way upstairs to his suite, nodding to the muscular commando in civilian garb stationed before the suite's door before entering into the small sitting room. Once in the sitting room, she hesitated but for a second before rapping on the wooden door to his bedroom where he had set up his office, then waited patiently for his deep voice to say, "Come in."

Her muscular and handsome Irathiant commanding officer sat at his desk doing paperwork until Maas entered and stood at attention waiting his command. They both were following a standing order not to salute or do anything that might indicate rank to possible enemies, but she always thought his natural demeanor would indicate to even a passing idiot that he was in command of her squad, so she was always on the look out for would-be assassins, although she had no doubt that he could look after himself. Maas admired Commander Kima, and some whispered behind their backs that they were lovers, although it wasn't true. She knew he was loyal to his family, and she respected that fact. Furthermore, a romantic involvement with a commanding officer was against military regulations, which she had sworn an oath to uphold. Maas might fantasize a sexual romp with Kima from time to time, but duty would always stand in her way of implementing such an encounter, so she remained in love with him from afar, perhaps more than a soldier should, but not more than a woman.

"At ease Sargent," Not long after, Kima's deep baritone voice shook her out of her reverie, ordering, "Report?"

Maas gave an account of the facts of her encounter with Sandy Bell and Volodja Uljanov, not sparing the details even when they put her in an unflattering light. She was loathe to admit that Volodja got the drop on her, or the fact that her impulsive decision not to call for backup might have cost them Bell's immediate capture, but her duty required her to tell him ALL the facts, which she did. He leaned on his desk and tented his fingers in front of his strong chin as he listened intently without expression on his red clay colored face until she was through, whereupon he sighed before commenting.

"It could of gone better as a first contact, but we have gathered much intelligence, so you are to be congratulated for that - however, never forget that as a squad we work better together than we do apart. I just wish we could find them before the five hours are up..."



A smile graced Maas' full lips, as she said, "There is a way, Commander. The Quickblaster that Mr. Uljanov took from me is my personal weapon and was given to me by my grandfather, a souvenir from the Pale Wars. As such, it is very precious to me, so when I had it disassembled and cleaned in preparation for regular use again, I had a tracer chip put deep in it's recesses. Unless that take it apart or have sophisticated detection equipment in a lab, they will never find it and it is attuned to a special frequency that my data pad can detect in a five mile radius."

Kima's smile reflected hers, "Very good Sargent Maas. Assemble all the men downstairs fully armed and in full regalia. On second thought, take away their assault rifles and equip all the men with tranquilizer rifles, but allow them to keep their sidearms for their personal protection. I will change and meet you there. Share the frequency with any of the bounty hunters you can contact that are in town, I believe we have the number of that Sentenza fellow. Be sure and get the frequency to Marcel Lestrange as well. Alert the Beggar's Union to look out for any of the others, and have them contact you to get the frequency. We will let the bounty hunters go in to soften the target, then we will swoop in and capture Ms. Bell whether her companion likes it or not. Make it so Sargent."

After Maas gave another curt nod and left to do her duty, Kima stood up to get dressed in his combat gear, but tarried for a moment looking at the picture on his desk. He picked it up and stared with intense golden eyes at the smiling faces of his wife and three sons, tracing the outline of the image of his youngest son with one large calloused finger. His muscular face remained passive except for the muscle along his square jawline that quivered as he clenched his teeth. His eyes narrowed and a glint of purpose sparkled in them as he carefully put the picture face down on his desk, focusing his keen mind to the task at hand as he hurried to dress and meet his squad downstairs.

Room 313 in one of Cuzco's cheap hotels was surrounded by hunters.

"Signal comes from inside for sure," announced one of them.

"Strange," added other one. "I expected them to be hiding, but they decide to take a room in a hotel."

"Should we knock?"

"No fucking way. On three...One...Two...Three!"

Room door was broken down and hunters rushed in, surrounding the bed where someone deeply slept. 

"What the fuck do you want from me?!" was shouted with irritated male voice and hunters could see someone moving.

"Me? Not "us"?"

"You are alone. Where is the other one?"

"Here it is, damn it!" someone yelled in the bed and hunting party witnessed another abrupt movement when that aforementioned someone rouse into sitting stance and pointed something at them. Closer inspection revealed that it wasn't human as they were expecting. It was Liberata. Small Liberata. Small and angry Liberata. It was Danny Da Vinci who held Sergeant Maas's Quickblaster in his small hands and stared at hunters with burning eyes. 

"Just tell me what the fuck is going on? And why won't you let me sleep?" Danny asked.

"Put the gun down, Mr. Da Vinci. We are not going to hurt you unless you do something stupid with that gun, like hurting us. Actually we would like to know where you got it?" And a scrip bill was tossed into Danny Da Vinci's bed to make him lose his tongue.

"Well, if you want to know then I got it from that blonde girl and her companion..."

"Go on, Mr. Da Vinci. We are all ears."

The story was actually simple. Danny Da Vinci met Sandy Bell and Volodja Uljanov in Cuzco and started loudly complain about his dear shotgun they took away from him, completely forgetting that he was the one who left behind his shotgun and his passengers with it when he was busy driving to safety. Sandy and Volodja didn't want to rise any attention, but that complaining small guy was sure to become attraction to the locals who already sharpened their ears, because there was a scent of a scandal in the air. 

Sandy and Volodja offered one of their newly acquired guns as a compensation and Danny (who wasn't modest at all when it was about free stuff) picked the best one, although both Sandy and Volodja were really reluctant to give it away and settle with pistols only, but silencing Danny came with a cost they had to pay. And the best one happened to be Sergeant Maas's Quickblaster. Danny left the couple alone after that trade act and having few drinks at their expense. 

"Thank you for the story, Mr. Da Vinci. And if you tell us where you left them, you may continue your sleep. But we will keep the gun. Here is something extra, so you can buy a new one. And pay for the room door. Let's go!"

Light and heavy footsteps on stairs, sounds which were created when someone slammed doors open and close - first hotel ones and then car doors - and voices of roaring car engines followed that command when hunter party rushed to the place where their prey was last seen. The chase continued despite of that little comedy of errors...

Reasons why most of the bounty hunters didn't rush after the Quickblaster were also simple just as Danny Da Vinci's tale of acquiring it: 

Mr. Wynd and Mr. Kyd were still trapped inside of the local bar "La Ostra Azul" which hosted macho men who had particular interest to leather. And dancing. And "Village People" was one of their favourite bands. Besides - Mr. Wynd and Mr. Kyd didn't belonged to the list of persons who received an invitation to man hunt anyway because they had business of their own and their intentions didn't match with Commander Kima's or even Sentenza's. That made them outsiders everywhere in South American territory except in "La Ostra Azul" and since they were really popular among other customers, leaving that place was out of the question. People just didn't let them go away yet after Mr. Wynd and Mr. Kyd were lured inside.



Sentenza had worries of his own, because meeting with Maria Escalosa ended with trapping him between thighs of that large woman, who found his unconscious body on her patio, dragged him inside her house and gave him a performance to remember, because she was the third recorded case about woman who were able to pull the nail out from the wall or plank with her buttocks.

First one was described in "Erich Marie Remarques's novel "Der schwarze Obelisk" ("The Black Obelisk") which also contained the famous quotation, usually attributed to Stalin: "The death of one man is a tragedy, the death of millions is a statistic" ("Aber das ist wohl so, weil ein einzelner immer der Tod ist — und zwei Millionen immer nur eine Statistik."). One of characters did that trick from time to time and earned  lot of money to herself and her husband from bets.

The second time it was used by Serbian film-maker, actor and musician Emir Kusturica who obviously liked that novel, because he used that episode in his film "Crna mačka, beli mačor" ("Black Cat, White Cat") and gave the character who performed that act stage name "Black Obelisk"



Maria Escalosa happened to be the third case who also turned her talent into a well paid stage act. But since she liked Sentenza, he had a rare opportunity to have a private show, free of charge. Sort of free. It meant that escaping from the woman who was able to pull the nail out from the wall, using her body as a tool, was impossible, so Sentenza had to give comparably agile performance to impress her. Or at least make her to fall asleep. Or sing. Whatever actually, as long it meant losing her thigh lock around him after the nail was pulled out and he had to make a donation. The fat lady hadn't sang yet, so Sentenza was not able to join the manhunt either. Only a man who was responsible of getting rid of his competitors in aforementioned ways, participated in chase. He was one and only

Marcel Lestrange who received a message and muttered by himself that sending MP-s to catch someone, usually meant letting fugitives to escape. And not because MP lacked any kind of resources. Some why he started to think in terms of TV-shows and compared Lynch's and Decker's unsuccessful attempts to capture members of the "A Team" with real actions of officials and found lot of similarities. Mainly, because officials were so restricted on their actions and could not afford any kind of creative approach, because all the rules they had to follow during the hunt and reports they had to fill afterwards. Decker was almost successful in capturing them because he allowed himself more liberty and freedom of action than Lynch, but yet he was limited by the system he served, so eventually he failed.



"It takes a thief to catch a thief," concluded Marcel. "Just to think how successful Vidocq was. And just like him, I am not limited by anyone or anything. I have no moral issues, no command chain, no need to fill any papers to justify my actions. J'ai en toute liberté. (I have total freedom). So I will be the man who finds Mademoiselle Sandy and that unfortunate Volodja Le Fou."

After securing the way to where the cloning equipment was once more and getting back into town, Iri handled the running of scans for the checkup on the clone. They had to slowly move her from the Durango to the medical office, happening to be spotted by Amanda Rosewater as she was heading to the NeedWant. Iri focused on performing the scans, as Irisa had to explain to Amanda what they were doing and Samir stood by to assist. They had given the clone a sheet to cover up, but

“So, how am I looking, Iri?” the clone asked. “Do you need me to turn my head and cough?”

“Well, it’s good to see your sense of humor is intact,” Iri responded. “Not only that, your memories as well.”

“How is that possible?” Samir asked. “If she’s a new clone of Doc Yewll, then how can her personality and memory be retained?”

“Do you want to tell him or do you want me to?” Iri asked.

“As you’ve probably remember, Samir,” the clone began. “Indogenes started off as genetically engineered. If you were to engineer a species meant to be as slaves, wouldn’t it make sense to be able to have it where if you lost a slave, you could just grow a new copy without having to train it everything again? The last thing I remember is saving Nolan and Irisa from dying due to the implant in their heads. If I had to bet, I’d put my money on Kindzi keeping a copy of my source print and she used it to make clones to appease her… Instincts. Such a naughty Nelly.”

“Basically, our source print contains essentially everything an Indogene is, including copies of memories to a certain extent. She remembers that point in the real Doc Yewll’s timeline, but nothing else after that. Think of it as like an old world word processor file. You have two computers that run the same programming, but you copy the file from the original to the second computer. If you keep working on the original file on the first computer-“

“The second computer’s copy of the file would remain as it was from the moment it was copied and anything after that point would have not been added,” Samir finished.

“We have a winner! Give that guy a fluffy doll,” the clone responded.

“It’s incredible,” Iri heard Amanda Rosewater as she came into the examination area with Irisa in town. “She seems so much like Yewll.”

“And it’s also ironic,” the clone turned to her. “Made my fair share of copies only to become a copy myself. So, I guess that makes me Diet Doc Yewll. Less fat, but still the same great taste.  And after having to have said that aloud, and considering what happened to my other clones, that statement seems just as disturbing as it did funny.”

“So,” Amanda turned to address Iri. “How’s the patient?”

“She’s fully formed, which means there should be any latent problems. The weakness of walking around will resolve itself in a few hours, basically the result of being in the cloning chamber for too long. The only thing different between this clone and the original Meh Yewll is the lack of implants, which could possibly be corrected by either getting second-hand implants installed or maybe using a modified EGO unit.”

“Been there, done that,” the clone piped up, turning her head to look at Samir.

This action caught Iri’s attention, her following the line of sight to the human man, and following his line of sight back to the Yewll clone, Iri realizing that the cover that they had used to cover her up had come open slightly and some noticeable side-boob viewing was present. The clone then took notice of the open sheet, snapped her fingers at Samir, breaking his attention and then pointed up towards her eyes.

“My eyes are here, Samir,” she told him. “Not on my cleavage.”

The human male noticeably grew a shade of red lighter from embarrassment. The clone pulled the sheet back around her, hiding her body from him.

“Human males and your hormones. You’d practically jump on anything that’s female if you didn’t have social skills and preferences.”

“Since you retain most of Yewll’s memories, will you be able to take over as the town doctor?” Amanda asked. “Not that I mind you, Samir, you’ve done pretty well, but I think it’d be nice to have someone with a lot more experience at treating people once more.”

“Pretty much. Like Iri here stated, I may need to either get second-hand implants or a modified EGO to be able to communicate with some of my medical equipment. But other than that, I could probably go back to work in about a day.”

“So, what do we call you?” Irisa asked. “I mean, do we still call you Meh Yewll or something else?”

“I’d recommend keeping things simple,” Iri told the Irath. “The original Meh Yewll is no longer here. So, I think it’s best to continue to call yourself Meh Yewll up until if and when the original returns.”

“I agree,” the clone replied. “Why mess with a winning formula?”

“Miss Sewuel,” Amanda’s voice caught Iri’s attention. “May I speak with you a moment?”

Before Iri could respond, Amanda had already moved around the corner into the front office area. With the tone that Rosewater had given off, she knew that the Mayor was displeased and there was going to be some sort of verbal ‘chewing’. As Iri came around the corner, Amanda turned around, and the look in her eyes caught Iri off guard. They looked as if a glimmer of some sort of hope had been stomped out.

“What in the hell were you doing at the mines?” Rosewater asked.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to risk bothering you,” Iri explained. “Because of Omec technology, Chase had the most difficult month on his way here. Between the Omec control stick that was shoved into my neck and the Omec stun rod that was used on him, it allowed for an insane person to kidnap me and others, which in turn lead to Chase believing I died and him trying to kill himself by heading out into the desert. The fact that some of that tech escaped this town made me uncomfortable. So, I plan on taking the Omec cloning tank, as well as anything else you have that is Omec tech related, and I am going to take it with me, with the intention of making sure it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands again. I don’t want anyone else to be harmed or be set up to have harm done to them.”

“But that tech is safe here. We’ve got it at a location where no one can find it and under lock and key.”

“Let me guess, you have it in the NeedWant.”

“You… How’d you figure that?”

“Logical deduction,” Iri began. “From what I’ve heard, when the mines had collapsed, it was the Omec that drilled down to get gulanite, to which you made a deal with the leader. Clearly, you respected him as I’m sure he respected you. And with that respect, despite the ones that came down and tried to eat you with that Omec’s second in command, I figured you are much like me. You didn’t destroy it because you figured there could be the chance for that technology to be useful later on. But since some Omec tech got out, you would want to make sure it was in a place where you’d know it was safe. And that would be the NeedWant. There’s barely any activity in the establishment during the day, very active shortly after noon, busy during the night and still some people there after hours. And since you live at the establishment, you’d be able to keep an eye on it and know its in a safe place. Not to mention, if someone was looking for that tech, the NeedWant wouldn’t be on the list of places to look because its a brothel and bar. Your armory, maybe the motor pool, or maybe in a mine somewhere, but no one would ever think to consider the NeedWant, primarily because its mostly open a majority of the day and too active for anyone to be able to search the place without being noticed. The safest place the tech could be is out in an open spot. Easy peasy.”

Iri could see the dumbfounded look on the human’s face. Clearly, Amanda’s plan had worked, as no one in town knew where the tech was being held.

“Look, I’m going to cut through the bullshtak with you, Amanda. The fact is that right now, that tech could be found. I want to take it to a secure location where one two people have access to, which is me and Chase. And even he won’t know about it because of where I plan to store and I will have it so secure, that not even the best hacker in the world would be able to figure out the lock to get into it. And I will have tons of safeguards in place to insure that tech won’t leave that area. So, what we’re going to do is this: we’re going to load up every piece of tech onto an Overland Transit truck, and I’m going to ride with it straight to the Bay, and from there, I’ll handle the rest. I’m sure you of all people can understand the importance of keeping things like this secure. Not even the Paradise Protectors will know of it, since the Inquisitors were able to get into their tightly secured base like a hot knife through butter. You have my word, I will keep this technology from falling into the wrong hands. Even if it means having to destroy it, I certainly will be able to do this. Besides, some of the tech isn’t as destructive, such as the cloning tech. When it comes to some of our recent advancements in cloning, it’d take weeks. For the Omec’s tech, it appears to take only a few days. By reverse engineering it, it could be used to clone fully functional organs without having to grow a whole clone, thus being able to save all lives. You have my word, I am looking out for everyones best interest here.”

As Iri was explaining, she could see the demeanor of the mayor change from being angered to the realization that Iri was right. And then an idea seemed to cross the human’s eyes.

“You’re right,” Rosewater resigned. “I trust you. But you’re going to need a vehicle to transfer the tech. And you’re going to need someone else to help you.”

Iri was surprised by the human agreeing with her. Amanda went around her and then wave Irisa in.

“How long until she gets into town?” the mayor asked.

“She said she was coming from Cedars in her letter, which is a hundred and fifty miles,” the Irath replied. “So, tomorrow is when she should arrive.”

“She who?” Iri asked.

“Look, if you stay in town for a little while, we can get the transport and help you need to get this back to the Bay,” Amanda told her. “Someone we know is coming to town, and we know she could be able to help you. You can crash at the NeedWant once more for tonight. Tomorrow, you and Irisa can go back down to recover the cloning tech.”

“Me too,” she heard the Yewll clone pipe up. “I’ve got more knowledge on Omec technology than you do. Plus, three heads are better than two.”

Iri needed a moment to process everything and then nodded in agreement. It was better to work together instead of trying to do it by herself as she had originally intended.

“Hopefully, everything will go smooth,” Iri said. “I just hope this person you believe can help is as trustworthy.”

———————————————

Chase had followed Taffer’s instructions about fanning out and asking questions, but Chase had never been on a recon squad before. So, instead of lying, he decided to be truthful a bit. The people he met, he told them that he was a Historical Salvage expert and he was looking for Sandy and Volodya to pay them for services rendered. The last bit may have been a lie, but by adding the truth in there, it’d make things more believable. However, there was no that seemed to have a clue, let alone an idea, on where those two could be.

Was this what it was like for the others when they realized I was alive and in the Bay? When they tried to track me down? God, I must have been a pain for them.

The jailbreak plan was something he was worried about. Jailbreaks never went easy in the movies. More often than not, they often ended up with someone shot up and bleeding to death slowly. It made him worry about even the possibility to having to do something insane, such as crawling through a tube full of crap just to get out. That one scene from that movie about an innocent man being sent to some prison called Shawshank stuck with him, causing him to wonder if the smell in such a tube was as horrible as he imagined. And yet, despite how things were, he still kept coming back to thinking about Iri and him, their relationship, despite what he was doing. He began to wonder what Iri was doing and if she was okay.

I just hope she’s not getting in over her head, he thought. More so, I hope she’s safe and is just taking some time to relax in town before coming back to the insanity of their relationship. You need to get back on task, get this job done and get the missing back home. You need to be here, to get the lost back, whatever it takes. Even if it means a jailbreak, which could lead to either serious injury. Don’t you even dare think of death, as you’ve already survived two situations that would have killed anyone else. You walked away one time without memory and losing an arm, while the other on the edge of insanity, but you walked away alive.

He took a moment to stop and shake thoughts from his head, trying to get back on task. He continued on, asking questions, telling people he was just an employer looking for someone to pay them. Keeping things short and simple as possible.

Where the hell are those two? he asked himself at one point.

"Sandy seems to be really agitated," thought Volodja. "She just called me Volo. Must do something about it and quick. Sophie dear. Show me the tourist map please."

"Right away Volodja. What are you planning to do?"

"Something really old fashioned."

Volodja glanced at the map and said in careless and  light hearted manner: "You know Sandy. All that fuss about us has made me hungry as a wolf. But sitting in a fancy restaurant is so...common, not to mention the fact that we are on the run, so enclosing ourselves into some room with maximum two doors - front and back - which could be easily blocked might not be the wisest thing to do. Speaking of back doors...Catch a breath for couple of minutes. I have some business to do behind that one." Volodja kissed Sandy before he entered, leaving her wondering about his intentions.

Volodja was back relatively fast, holding tightly closed basket in his hand and said: "I know that my idea is sort of outdated, but perhaps two of us could have a post apocalyptic picnic in green? The good people in this quite classy restaurant weren't mind to pack this basket for us in return for some compliments about their work...and some scrip. Must be careful though, because I don't want to mix up the contents of our luggage."

Sandy nodded in a way Volodja could not interpret - was it just a sign of an agreement or that nod marked her enthusiastic agreement? But more important was that she agreed with him, so they found themselves a nice place in park where they could observe their surroundings. Volodja asked Sandy to close her eyes and added: "No peeking!" in firm but yet playful tone. After some time, which felt long as a century to tired and hungry Sandy Bell, she was finally allowed to remove her hands. "The food is served, Madam" announced Volodja in a manner only Jeeves could do and stepped back to avoid standing between Sandy and all the food, tastefully placed on Volodja's chamanto which was carefully spread on the ground as a table cloth. After all - Volodja's first concern was Sandy's well being. And there was plenty of food to feed more than one. Even if Sophie and Sarge would somehow obtain a corporal form and join the picnic, they also could have plenty to eat.