Duel of the Fates
Predator Press
[Mr Insanity]
RDO really never lost interest in the goings on here on Earth; he just had to change strategy.
The dinosaurs had been his longest success. But they were difficult to control and bad-tempered overall. And the Earth's tumultuous temperatures over the eons proved to be their greatest vulnerability.
They were simply unable to adapt.
Sapphire, a much more sophisticated, elegant, and expensive design, was constructed to obviate these flaws. But despite being designed a female, she soon was able to drive, vote, think and operate completely independently. She too was difficult to control and bad-tempered overall.
This obviously was completely unforeseen.
Then there was the plan to clone LOBO indefinitely until the Earth self-destructed in a glut of stupidity. But once again, the unforeseen became the plan's undoing; RDO had no idea the capacity for wanton and unnecessary violence that permeated the human species: all the LOBO clones were slain.
-Hell, the humans had contests killing them.
So RDO decided that maybe he would start to think small. He developed tough and flexible micro-alloys, high-speed tiny devices and reconnaissance tools, and chips and processors that bordered defying quantum mechanics.
And there it was, at the paltry sum of $45,006,787, 897.06, sitting on LOBO's coffee table.
At a glance, it might resemble a shiny chrome metallic fly.
***
Templeton scratched and licked at his vast array of eyes, confused.
"Something is definitely wrong," he transmitted. "I can't translate what the big people are saying. I only get 'WOLF' every now and then."
There's a pause, then a response. "Templeton, you were evidently sent with the wrong language module. Yours appears to be Spanish. You are instructed to activate the television when the humans are gone, and observe until you can decode the English language."
"Understood," replied Templeton. "Out."
Templeton darted slightly to the left, facing the television. Then, seeking out the right radio waves, within moments he activated the television and was surfing channels. Earth data streamed gloriously into his memory banks, and were processed and sorted. If every computer on this planet were working for the same goal, Templeton could do it in half the time.
Unfortunately, nowhere in Templeton's vastly-advanced technological brain was there ever any mention of the Felis domesticus until he spotted a show on it on The Animal Channel.
And just as Templeton settled in for this fascinating documentary, Phil struck.
***
Phil had been aware of Templeton for some time. And to her credit, she had closed on him with the silent grace and keen hunting skill born of centuries of evolution; as Templeton became increasingly engrossed in the 'lighty box', his body language relaxed slightly.
Phil lunged, and almost instantly Templeton was airborne.
Templeton, while not entirely convinced of his own endangerment, charged his defenses, circling curiously. This incited a second strike from Phil. Missing poorly, she hadn't completely calculated her landing properly and landed paws-down on the floor, unsteadily and with her back to Templeton.
Templeton fired a warning shock, and Phil howled furiously. She circled back warily; Templeton, unafraid, simply hovered in haphazard, jerky motions that attracted her attack even more. She hissed.
Templeton was now reading Phil as a confirmed threat, but his curiosity got the best of him. Settling on the window of Babs' China hutch -presumably a safe enough distance-he continued to watch and observe the truly remarkable Earth species from a safe height.
The height that she could jump caught him completely off guard; her clawed paw caught him squarely, but her momentum carried her heavily into the hutch. Numerous China plates came down in a deafening crash.
Templeton, alarmed, fired his tiny jets for a burst of speed as he retreated towards the bedroom. But this cramped and unfamiliar space was Phil's home, and the tiny invader was at a significant disadvantage. Within precious moments of Phil slashing and biting inches behind, Templeton realized he was trapped: the bedroom had only one entrance, hence one exit. Following the natural upward arch of Babs' waterbed, he climbed, buzzed the headboard, and came back in the opposite direction in an attempt to fly back over the cat towards the only escape route.
Phil hit the waterbed claws bared, and with powerful hind legs launched herself high in the air slashing wildly at the tiny intruder -barely catching purchase on a bookshelf before leaping once more. The force of this leap wobbled the shelves, but both hunted and hunter were long gone before they all came crashing to the floor.
***
The kitchen, in a rather uncharacteristic state of tidiness, was brighter than the rest of the house; the drapes were thrown wide in the afternoon daylight.
Templeton's sensor arrays compensated instantly, but Phil's sensitive vision was flared away for a mere fraction of a second -long enough, in this high speed chase. Nonetheless, she maintained her speed and jumped up to the countertop almost entirely by memory.
But she had lost him.
Perfectly still, she blinked and searched with her ears for what seemed an eternity.
Nothing.
Only the occasional faint splash of a repetitive water droplet.
A sound she didn't recognize.
It was coming from the sink.
She circled, seeing nothing. She circled again, accidentally triggering the garbage disposal with her tail and two of the gas burners. She was a little startled by the sudden mechanical whine of the garbage disposal, but it wasn't necessarily an unknown sound for her.
She was focused.
That little shit is right here somewhere.
In the sink, there was a fork, a coffee cup, and a half a glass of water.
And in the bottom of that water under some ice, Templeton sat perfectly still.
Phil dived for him and the glass spilled into the screaming drain, taking Templeton down.
***
CRACK! went an ice cube.
Templeton shook the moisture off, and hovered perfectly still a mere inch over the deafening roar of swinging, grinding steel teeth. He looked up into the star-shaped light -his only way out-and he saw Phil's reptilian eye. Phil, seeing Templeton, opened all four claws and poised to reach in and snatch the little interloper.
With no choice, Templeton fired his afterburners straight up.
The burners ignited the gas, and LOBO's place exploded.
***
LOBO and Ethan were both sitting on the curb. Ethan was talking to the FBI, and LOBO was petting poor Phil, who had her whiskers scorched during the tragic fire.
"Excuse me?" says Ethan into the phone.
"This call is being interrupted by RDO," said a sterile voice.
"I'm talking to the FBI. Whatever it is, I'm sure it can wait."
"I don't know sir," says the monotone voice. "He sure is cursing a lot."
[Mr Insanity]
RDO really never lost interest in the goings on here on Earth; he just had to change strategy.
The dinosaurs had been his longest success. But they were difficult to control and bad-tempered overall. And the Earth's tumultuous temperatures over the eons proved to be their greatest vulnerability.
They were simply unable to adapt.
Sapphire, a much more sophisticated, elegant, and expensive design, was constructed to obviate these flaws. But despite being designed a female, she soon was able to drive, vote, think and operate completely independently. She too was difficult to control and bad-tempered overall.
This obviously was completely unforeseen.
Then there was the plan to clone LOBO indefinitely until the Earth self-destructed in a glut of stupidity. But once again, the unforeseen became the plan's undoing; RDO had no idea the capacity for wanton and unnecessary violence that permeated the human species: all the LOBO clones were slain.
-Hell, the humans had contests killing them.
So RDO decided that maybe he would start to think small. He developed tough and flexible micro-alloys, high-speed tiny devices and reconnaissance tools, and chips and processors that bordered defying quantum mechanics.
And there it was, at the paltry sum of $45,006,787, 897.06, sitting on LOBO's coffee table.
At a glance, it might resemble a shiny chrome metallic fly.
Templeton scratched and licked at his vast array of eyes, confused.
"Something is definitely wrong," he transmitted. "I can't translate what the big people are saying. I only get 'WOLF' every now and then."
There's a pause, then a response. "Templeton, you were evidently sent with the wrong language module. Yours appears to be Spanish. You are instructed to activate the television when the humans are gone, and observe until you can decode the English language."
"Understood," replied Templeton. "Out."
Templeton darted slightly to the left, facing the television. Then, seeking out the right radio waves, within moments he activated the television and was surfing channels. Earth data streamed gloriously into his memory banks, and were processed and sorted. If every computer on this planet were working for the same goal, Templeton could do it in half the time.
Unfortunately, nowhere in Templeton's vastly-advanced technological brain was there ever any mention of the Felis domesticus until he spotted a show on it on The Animal Channel.
And just as Templeton settled in for this fascinating documentary, Phil struck.
Phil had been aware of Templeton for some time. And to her credit, she had closed on him with the silent grace and keen hunting skill born of centuries of evolution; as Templeton became increasingly engrossed in the 'lighty box', his body language relaxed slightly.
Phil lunged, and almost instantly Templeton was airborne.
Templeton, while not entirely convinced of his own endangerment, charged his defenses, circling curiously. This incited a second strike from Phil. Missing poorly, she hadn't completely calculated her landing properly and landed paws-down on the floor, unsteadily and with her back to Templeton.
Templeton fired a warning shock, and Phil howled furiously. She circled back warily; Templeton, unafraid, simply hovered in haphazard, jerky motions that attracted her attack even more. She hissed.
Templeton was now reading Phil as a confirmed threat, but his curiosity got the best of him. Settling on the window of Babs' China hutch -presumably a safe enough distance-he continued to watch and observe the truly remarkable Earth species from a safe height.
The height that she could jump caught him completely off guard; her clawed paw caught him squarely, but her momentum carried her heavily into the hutch. Numerous China plates came down in a deafening crash.
Templeton, alarmed, fired his tiny jets for a burst of speed as he retreated towards the bedroom. But this cramped and unfamiliar space was Phil's home, and the tiny invader was at a significant disadvantage. Within precious moments of Phil slashing and biting inches behind, Templeton realized he was trapped: the bedroom had only one entrance, hence one exit. Following the natural upward arch of Babs' waterbed, he climbed, buzzed the headboard, and came back in the opposite direction in an attempt to fly back over the cat towards the only escape route.
Phil hit the waterbed claws bared, and with powerful hind legs launched herself high in the air slashing wildly at the tiny intruder -barely catching purchase on a bookshelf before leaping once more. The force of this leap wobbled the shelves, but both hunted and hunter were long gone before they all came crashing to the floor.
The kitchen, in a rather uncharacteristic state of tidiness, was brighter than the rest of the house; the drapes were thrown wide in the afternoon daylight.
Templeton's sensor arrays compensated instantly, but Phil's sensitive vision was flared away for a mere fraction of a second -long enough, in this high speed chase. Nonetheless, she maintained her speed and jumped up to the countertop almost entirely by memory.
But she had lost him.
Perfectly still, she blinked and searched with her ears for what seemed an eternity.
Nothing.
Only the occasional faint splash of a repetitive water droplet.
A sound she didn't recognize.
It was coming from the sink.
She circled, seeing nothing. She circled again, accidentally triggering the garbage disposal with her tail and two of the gas burners. She was a little startled by the sudden mechanical whine of the garbage disposal, but it wasn't necessarily an unknown sound for her.
She was focused.
That little shit is right here somewhere.
In the sink, there was a fork, a coffee cup, and a half a glass of water.
And in the bottom of that water under some ice, Templeton sat perfectly still.
Phil dived for him and the glass spilled into the screaming drain, taking Templeton down.
CRACK! went an ice cube.
Templeton shook the moisture off, and hovered perfectly still a mere inch over the deafening roar of swinging, grinding steel teeth. He looked up into the star-shaped light -his only way out-and he saw Phil's reptilian eye. Phil, seeing Templeton, opened all four claws and poised to reach in and snatch the little interloper.
With no choice, Templeton fired his afterburners straight up.
The burners ignited the gas, and LOBO's place exploded.
LOBO and Ethan were both sitting on the curb. Ethan was talking to the FBI, and LOBO was petting poor Phil, who had her whiskers scorched during the tragic fire.
"Excuse me?" says Ethan into the phone.
"This call is being interrupted by RDO," said a sterile voice.
"I'm talking to the FBI. Whatever it is, I'm sure it can wait."
"I don't know sir," says the monotone voice. "He sure is cursing a lot."
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