6.s.
“Down this
way. Hurry!” Commander Credit said, holding
the greed-gun apparatus out in front of him.
He and the rest of the Union rounded a corner and
were halfway down the hall when the Commander stopped. He swiveled to his left.
“Look! Down there,” said Franklin Buck, pointing to
the end of the hall and the small, runty man who stood there.
“After him,”
Corporate Man shouted, but Commander Credit held his hand out and stopped
him. Then he yanked a panel off the wall
nearest him. A small, runty man with a
thin moustache was standing on the other side.
He hissed and three similar runty men with, more or less, similar
moustaches stood behind him and echoed the hiss. They bolted like frightened deer, scattering
down a dimly lit hallway, banking into separate side corridors.
The Union
rushed after them.
“Should we split
up and take them?” Senior asked.
“No,” said
Corporate Man. “Keep us on the real one Commander.”
Around the
next corner they saw The Outsourcer disappear into a ventilation duct. A group of
maintenance workers moved a section of cubicle paneling across the corridor,
blocking the way. Simultaneously, two
sections were pulled away and secured in different positions creating new
passages going in opposite directions.
“Which way?”
shouted Corporate Man.
Commander
Credit stopped to consult the greed-gun.
“Neither,” he
said. Then he strode up to a section of
wall and tried to yank it free. It
didn’t budge, so he set about dismantling it with tools from his cybernetic
arm. Senior Executive approached the
remaining maintenance workers and began questioning them.
“Hurry. Hurry,” said Franklin Buck.
“You want to
do this, Dollar Boy?” Commander Credit said as he popped the section of wall
free. A hand slapped him across the face. A dozen runty men hissed and then bolted
away, bounding down the newly opened corridor.
“Little shits,” Commander Credit yelled,
charging after them.
The rest of
the Union poured into this new section of darkened
passageways. The scurrying, runty-men
disappeared behind vents, panels, and other trap doors embedded in the pseudo
walls.
The Union
continued the chase and soon arrived at a junction of five passages. Runty men stood at the far end of each hallway. Middle finger raised.
Carpeted
panels swung in and out from various positions along each corridor, concealing each
of the five Outsourcer men.
“They just
flipped us off,” said Franklin Buck.
Commander
Credit checked the greed-gun. His face
pinched and he tapped the side of the apparatus. Then her turned around and said, “Back this
way.”
More panels
swung in and out of the walls and runty men crisscrossed the corridor space,
waving obscene gestures, before disappearing out of sight again.
Commander
Credit slumped against a wall and shook his head.
“I don’t get
it,” he said. “My readings must be
off. The Outsourcer isn’t showing up
anywhere. I don’t know what to–”
But he didn’t
finish. Instead he thrust all his weight
into the wall paneling behind him. It
gave way, slamming into the empty space beyond, landing on something small and
hard.
There was a
low grunt, followed by a yowling howl.
Commander Credit lifted up the section of wall. A dazed runty man lie beneath it. Commander Credit grabbed The Outsourcer by
the collar and yanked him to his feet. Atthe
same time the Commander’s snapped his torso forward, his head delivering a nose
crushing butt.
The Outsourcer
fell to the floor, spurts of blood geysering from his damaged nasal
cavities. The walls around the bleeding
man opened up and a troupe of runty men bounced into the corridor. Two of them swept up The Outsourcer while the
rest flung themselves at Commander Credit.
The first
couple of attackers suffered a great deal under the ferocity of the Commander’s
defenses, but soon their numbers drove him backward, through the opening in the
wall, and into the hallway where the rest of the Union
still waited.
The runty men
slid the caved in panel back into place and the only sound the Union
could hear through the restored wall was that of scuffling feet and half-hearted
expletives delivered through a collapsed nasal structure.
“Well, open it
back up,” said Business Woman.
“Won’t help,”
said Commander Credit. He held up the greed-gun. Indicator lights were in the green
again. “They’ll have already
reconfigured the corridor and The Outsourcer won’t even be in that direction.”