Agency 13 # 4
Enter: the Normalcy Squad
In the deepest wilds of Wyoming, imagine an older, taller man, with long white hair and a longer wooden cane, in a fight with three people. Two of them are wielding big, deadly-looking guns, and the third is a supple young woman grasping her temples as if using mental powers (or suffering a headache). In the background, there is a hint of chrome and copper, menacing the unsuspecting brawlers.
(That should do for a 'cover', shouldn't it?)
Notice: for those of you that are faint of heart, the following tale is not at all G-rated. It may include foul language, excessive violence, sexual innuendo, and other things that would get this story burned, were it in a printed form, by the more fanatical elements of every religion on earth. In other words, if these things offend you, you may want to stop reading now.
(That should do for a 'disclaimer', shouldn't it?)
***
It was a dark and stormy night - but then, they always are in Elk Snout, Wyoming. For some reason, it rained in this dinky little town about every other night; sometimes it was a mere sprinkling of water, but often it was a huge torrent of rain that could almost peel paint. There was lots of thunder and lightning and other stormy essentials going on at the time, which is why nobody noticed the crash.
A small object pulled itself from the wreckage, and tore off the makeshift atmospheric re-entry shielding it had adopted on its way down. It took a minute or so to eavesdrop on local transmissions, to determine where it was, and what it ought to look like. After decoding and viewing several television commercials, it chose its current form and made off into the night, hoping to find a way home.
***
Still sort of upset about his lack of memory concerning his mission to the city of Pleasantview, Seņor Barnett was lounging at a bar in the small town near Agency 13's headquarters. The Rock Bar, a somewhat uninviting little tavern, was nonetheless the only place worth drinking in within about forty miles, so Barnett dealt with it and drank. It wasn't that he needed to drink to forget, mind you; he just felt like it at the time.
He aimlessly looked at the bar's television as it droned on, surprised to see a news flash with the headline 'robot attack' on it. Amused, thinking this part of some comedy or some such, he tuned his mind into the program.
"That's right. I was just shooing some elk off my property, when the... the thing jumped me. Came out hollering about milk, asking if I'd 'got some', and almost killed me when I said yes! It raided my fridge and took off with two gallons worth!"
"What did it look like?", the reporter asked.
"Well, it was about five foot six, was all chrome, and looked like a model from one of them underwear commercials. You know, with the long red hair and stuff. It was a danged weird robot, if you ask me."
The reporter looks back at the camera, and would appear to be suppressing a laugh, when he says, "There you have it. Bob Johnson, for Channel 11 news."
"Hey, what're you gonna do about that robot?!"
Shrugging, Barnett finished his beer and limped back to the Agency 13 building. He could've drove, but walking helps him clear his head, even if he does have to constantly lean on his cane when doing so. He had an idea who was going to be chosen to check out this underwear-modeling, milk drinking 'robot', so he wasn't too amused. It seemed that Mike 013, knowing about his little problem with technology, was all too amused with sending him to fight with it.
About an hour later, when Barnett made it back to the 13 compound, he found Mike 013, Agent Deathmonger, and Sir Tophat talking about that bizarre news flash. As Barnett predicted, Mike's face lit up as he walked into rec room, and he was more than happy to say "Barnett! How nice of you to drop in!" Seņor Barnett just looked at Mike with disgust.
"Fine, fine, fine, I'll go check out your stupid, stupid robot."
"I knew I could count on you, Barnett!"
***
Arriving in Elk Snout, Seņor Barnett looked around the town. Three bars, one fast food joint, and about twenty houses. Not to mention several ranches on the outlying parts of town. And elk. There were three elk hanging about, elk that apparently weren't worrying the local populace. "They're from the ranges just outta town, Mac." One passerby apparently noticed his noticing the elk.
"We don't bother fencing 'em in, they always come back for dinner." Liking this less and less, Barnett started looking around, trying to find that fellow who was 'mugged' by a 'robot'. Hitting the bars, he found the man in the second facility, and he was well on his way towards getting nice and plastered.
"So what if it soundsh crazy? It was a robot, I tells you! I wasn't drunk... not YET." He slams another beer as his fellows laugh at him.
"Yeah, sure, Marty. A milk-drinking robot. Get him another one, Marge."
Marge, the bartender, indeed gave him another beer, at which point Barnett spoke up.
"So, where'd this robot go, then?" The bar suddenly got real quiet, you know, the quiet when somebody says 'where'd you get that tacky trophy?' or 'this place is a pit!'. Before anything happened, though, Marty answered, happy to have somebody at least sort of sound like they believed him.
"It ran off with my milk, up into the hills by Bob's ranch. Dunno where it got to after that."
Seņor Barnett smiled, and thanked the man. Walking out of the bar, he made his way to the third bar (the Elk Snout Inn), and asked for directions to 'Bob's' ranch. After getting them (a feat which cost him about five beers), Barnett walked out of town proper, and entered a range of hills that were marked by a nice 'buzz off or I'll shoot you dead' sign. This was apparently it, so he walked past the sign and looked around the hills.
After about half an hour, he spotted a bunch of footprints, about an inch and a half deep, in the soft, squishy ground. Following them, Seņor Barnett eventually discovered the crater, the discarded re-entry shielding, and of course, the robot. Upon hearing his gasp, the thing twirled around and asked him "Got Milk?" It was a short robot, all chrome-like, and was wearing quite the female form. With the accompanying bra and underwear, of course.
"Um, no. Sorry?" The machine looked him over, and deciding that he was no threat, made the approximation of a sigh.
"That's all right, I can't figure out what I'm supposed to do with it, other than have it." It indicated about eight gallons sitting next to the atmospheric shielding.
This simply confused Barnett more, who offered "Well, you drink it. Um, people do, anyway. I don't think it'll be of much use to you, to be honest."
Looking at the crash site, Seņor Barnett offered "You're not from around here, are you?" The robot looked at him, and shrugged.
"No, I crashed here last night. I called for help before I hit, but I don't know if anybody in my group caught the call. Atmospheric interference. If they did, they'll be by to pick me up by the time your sun rises again. By the way, just to be polite, I should introduce myself. My name is -"
"Crescent."
The robot looked at Seņor Barnett, sort of surprised at that, as it had never met him before - or any human, for that matter. Seeing 'her' discomfort, he apologized.
"Sorry about that. Sometimes, machines just talk to me... I heard your name in my head before you got to it." Crescent smiled.
"Ah, so you can speak machine language, eh?" She transmitted several messages at him, which caused Barnett to promptly black out.
***
When he came to, Crescent was standing over him. "I guess it is now my turn to apologize. I didn't realize that I would have that sort of affect on you." Seņor Barnett looked up at 'her', and noticed her stunning copper locks billowing in the breeze. Real copper locks, mind you, not actual hair. It is a robot, after all. He also couldn't help but admire 'her' beauty; sure, 'she' was chrome and all, but 'she' had a rather pleasing chrome-shape.
"Er, don't worry about it. I have plenty of aspirin to spare." Popping a few, Seņor Barnett continued. "By the way, you speak excellent English for having just landed on the earth, Crescent." She looked at him and grinned.
"Well, decoding your spoken language was quite simple, actually, though some of the expressions are giving me trouble. 'Got milk?', for example. And "Get off my property, you tinker-toy'."
"Ah. That last one's something of an insult. You see..." Crescent waited for Seņor Barnett to continue, but noticed that he was just sitting there, drooling, and became concerned.
"Are you all right?" Just then, three people walked out of the woods, one of which was holding her temples.
"He will be, as soon as we 'correct' his memories of the day. Guys - cut it down!" The two men standing aside the lady with the memory-correcting ability then pulled out guns.
Big, shiny guns. The kind that tend to put big holes in tanks, buildings, and the like.
"You got it, Mickie." Before they could fire, however, Crescent screamed out in a rage.
"You're altering his memories?! How DARE you!" Before any of the three strangers could act, she fired her hand clean off of her left arm, grazing the skull of the apparently telepathic Mickie, knocking her out cold. The others then opened fire, though they both failed to hit their mark.
That was, of course, because Crescent had fled into the trees. As one of the men rushed off to destroy the alien robot, the other stopped to check out his fallen comrade. Seeing that she was alive, if possibly concussed, he began to follow his pal, when something smashed him in the kneecap, and hard. It seemed to be a cane.
"What the hell're you idiots doing?! Here I am, having an intelligent conversation, when you come up and cause trouble!"
Seņor Barnett hit the man a couple more times, in various locations, to keep him from getting back up (and bringing his gun to bear).
"We're with the Normalcy Squad, you stupid old man! We're here to protect these local yokels from this robotic menace. Now, help me - ow!" Barnett struck the man several more times, mostly for calling him old, and quickly smashed up his pretty little gun. He then set out after Crescent and that last guy.
Normalcy Squad? Who the hell are they? Seņor Barnett was confused about this, for the Agency had never encountered any group going by that name. Maybe they were just some crazed vigilantes or some such; he didn't know, but he wasn't going to take any chances. He actually liked Crescent, as she (he knew it wasn't a she, but he couldn't help but think of her that way; maybe it was the underwear) was actually a rather pleasant piece of technology.
Unlike most of the other advanced crap he'd run into in this crummy job.
He followed the sound of gunfire somewhat slowly, since it was dark and in a wooded area, but he eventually made it to where the two opponents had stopped running. The man was prepared to fire his oversized gun at Crescent, when Seņor Barnett saw the look in her eyes. So, though he hated to do so, and knowing it would send him into months of therapy, he reached out with his mind, trying to actually communicate with the Squad member's gun.
The theoretically inanimate hunk of destructive machinery then had a fit in the Normalcy Squad man's hands, and started firing uncontrollably. Crescent managed to avoid the assault, however, as there was ample cover around, and the lack of aim caused by Seņor Barnett's trick managed to keep any would-be 'bullets with her name on them' away. Crescent then countered with her own attack, issuing forth from her left wrist.
Hidden under where her hand was, you see, was a miniature flamethrower. While her attacker was busy smashing trees to a pulp, she sprayed huge globs of fire at the man. Firing uncontrollably thanks to Barnett's influence, he wasn't quite ready for a counter-attack, and panicked upon seeing the jet of flame heading his way. Hitting the ground, he let his finger off the trigger, which allowed Barnett to jump him.
Smashing him in his lower back with his cane, Seņor Barnett softened him up a bit, and then jumped on his head repeatedly. "You idiots! This could've been resolved by morning, without any violence or conflict! But noooo! You all just had to come in shooting. I ought to, to, to." He stopped jumping on the man's head when that woman, that telepathic woman, appeared out of the trees, leveling her own gun at him. He smiled.
"Hello." She glared at him. From the bleeding wound on her temple, you could tell that she was mad. Real mad. She hesitated to shoot Barnett, however. She instead looked into his mind, seeking the truth. Feeling the equivalent of a lead weight striking him inside his brain pan, Seņor Barnett fell to the ground under the assault of Mickey's psychic probe. As suddenly as it started, though, she stopped.
"I see."
She moved closer to Barnett, and sheathed her gun.
"I suppose you were telling the truth. Now, if you'll stop standing on Mr. Jones' head...?" Once he realized that he was, in fact, still standing on the Normalcy Squad trooper's head, Barnett got off, and shrugged.
"Who are you people, anyway? I've never heard of you. What exactly is it that you do?!" She pulled her comrade off the ground, and tried to help him walk.
"We're the Normalcy Squad, Jack. It's our job to make sure that normal, innocent folks aren't hassled by the freakish. You know, robots, mutants, crazy psis; freaks. And we'll remember that you got in the way here, pal." Seņor Barnett snorted.
"We'll see about that, you psycho. Now get out of here, before I get real mad!" With that, the Normal Squad trio made for their covert van, parked back at an Elk Snout bar.
***
Come dawn, a shiny metal orb descended from the skies. It lacked any markings or other identification, but you got the impression that they weren't necessary. As it stopped, just over their heads, Crescent stopped to say goodbye before she hopped in.
"Well, it was... interesting, to say the least. I will definitely have to drop by again sometime, Jack." He looked at her, sort of confused.
"Well, my name's not Jack, really. That's just what that Squad kook called me."
Crescent stopped for a moment, and then asked him his name. He told her.
"Ah, that is a nice name. But, I must go, now. I will see you again!" Oddly enough, she gave him a kiss on the way off, which Barnett found strange (her being a robot, again - and he found he couldn't think of Crescent as anything but a she anymore).
"Sure thing, Crescent. But next time, make sure you wear a bit more clothes, eh?"
The robot looked at Barnett, thought about it for a second and smiled.
"Will do!" Crescent then flew off into the skies with her Mechani brethren, leaving the earth for the majesty of the awaiting universe. Seņor Barnett watched as it did so, marveling at life in general, and his in particular, and decided that it wasn't so bad, after all. With a sigh, he left for his car, to get back to the Agency 13 complex.
***
Franky Gray was an ordinary girl - at least, she was until she died last Thursday. That's why the local police were surprised when she got caught robbing a bank two days later, all pale in the face and violent in outlook. Thinking this a possible outbreak of zombies, Agency 13 sends in their two fisted Voodoo Houngan, Sir Tophat, to investigate the case. But, what happens when even Sir Tophat bites off more than he can chew? Find out next time!
***
Agency 13 # 4: Enter - the Normalcy Squad
Copyright 1999, 2004, 2012, 2023 Denny Hill 2
All rights reserved and so forth.
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