Nothing is perfect.

Well, cheese.

Ok, nothing is perfect, except cheese.

The streets of Clockworks City were a flood of flesh and anger. Gnomes of almost every walk of life gathered in public places to verbalize their thoughts and feelings. Once a common group was reached, they formed groups and assaulted those who had differing opinions. Group against group, mob against mob—marching down alley and thoroughfare, smashing or marking virtually everything in their path. Businesses were broken into, overtaken and plundered. Youth and criminals looking for the excuse to give into their habits and lusts, justified their actions by pointing to the unified body of anger. Such is the way of mob mentality.

Philburt Bellows watched the city burn from their place of hiding.  He sat huddled under the water tower, watching the street fights raging up and down Center West Street. Not even the Centurions would step in at this point. There were too many citizens for them to deal with.

“All this wasted power,” he said to himself, shaking his head. “If they just understood that by uniting together into one body—they could have gotten what they wanted from the Government without having to resort to violence among themselves.” He pulled his sweater tighter around his shoulders. “It’s a shame, really. All wasted because of anger.”

Already Bellows, Shamas and Philburt’s assistants—including Mr. Tanklestein, were forced to flee the apartment building. Set ablaze by a mob, Mr. Tanklestein watched his life’s investment go up in smoke.

“They’ll learn,” Shamas replied, paying close attention to a small group approaching the base of the building they stood on.

“Learn?” Bellows scoffed, “Learn what? No one’s listening any more to what I have to say, Shamas. I made, what I though, was the best speech of my life—and when I offered a course of action, it lasted what…a day? Now the frenzy is growing and it’s out of control.”

“That’s not altogether accurate, Mr. Bellow.” Mr. Tanklestein leaned against the cement wall, looking out over the stretch of apartment buildings still standing—a vast maze of housing for thousands of occupants. “We’re seeing the effects of what you said upon the normals, not our workers. Not the people from the lower districts.”

“There is violence everywhere, Laurence.”

“True, but the anger is only out of control up top. Even now we have reports of people working together and forming organized groups outside our factories. Places of business and the shipping docks have been protected. Life is shifting back to normal—angry hearts are calming.”

“It’s true,” Nat said over the com-link. “The speech you gave is being related by word, through text and phone. Workers from the factories are educating those in their communities…giving them a reason to join us.”

Shamas took a deep breath and stretched his arms outward. “We may just get a response from the government yet.”

****

“What do you mean WHRN is down for rescheduling!?” Ian roared, “I have a spot reserved to execute this troll in front of the entire city, you idiots!!” Spittle bounced off his bottom lip.

The albino’s bodyguards took a step back.

“Get me Director Cummins!” he snapped. “What do you mean, he’s retired? Fine. Fine. Get me Chairman Boehing then.What?” His face contorted, “They can’t all have retired on the SAME DAY!!” With a shriek, Ian snapped the cell phone closed and launched it across the room. The device struck the far wall and shattered into pieces.

Pale white fingers gripped the closed black suit, unnatural strength lifting the bodyguard off the floor.

“You get your entire division active and here within twenty minutes. Have them meet us in the Citadel lobby. If we can’t do a national televised special to axe this troll scum, then I will personally see to it during a private party!” With a flick of his wrist, the albino sent the stout gnome flying back against the wall.

“Y-y-yes sir!” he stammered. Jumping to his feet, he flicked open his phone and raced to the elevator. He held the doors open, waiting.

The remaining four guards snapped to attention.

“And you four,” Ian growled like a jungle cat, “will watch the two prisoners. No one get’s in, no one leaves. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir!” they barked in unison.

Striding across the floor, Ian turned around in the elevator, giving the security team one last glare. “On pain of death.”

****

The delivery truck swerved again to miss the youth running across the road.

“STUPID CHILDREN!” Tumbler screamed out the window, laying on the horn, “DIDN’T YER MOTHER TEACH YA TO LOOK BOTH WAYS!?”

“Calm down,” Telly said nervously. His hands gripped the dashboard so tightly his knuckles had turned white minutes ago. “We’re almost there. We don’t want to be pulled over right now.”

“ I know,” the old gnome snapped, “I KNOW!”

“There!” Nibbles pointed, “There’s the parking garage—across from the minimart.” She unbuckled her seatbelt, “Pull in and drive to the top. I’ll get them ready.”

“Right,” Tumbler blurted, flicking on the turn signal. “I’ll be glad to stop driving and get off these streets of crazy nut-job protesters!”

Telly sighed heavily, “I’ll be glad when you stop driving too.”

A weathered fist snapped out and struck the young mechanic in the arm.

“Ow!” Telly laughed.

The sliding door to the transport box slid open, Nibbles face popping through. “We’re here,” she said quickly, “Tumbler’s driving to the roof, so we have a clear shot at this.”

“Clear shot,” Lili repeated nervously.

“Oh don’t worry, my dear,” Chuck patted her head reassuringly, “you won’t be going.”

Steadying herself as they started the curving incline, she grabbed the orange jumper suit. “What do you mean I won’t be going?”

Freak hooked the ladder onto the side of the slag.

Chuck looked about for his helmet. “I mean just that. Craig here will make sure you’re dropped off at the warehouse. We’ll meet back there in less than 30 minutes.” He snorted, “I’ll probably beat you, what with gravity and all.”

But Lili wasn’t laughing. She tugged at the wizards outfit, nearly spinning him around. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face into his chest.

“Oh my,” he gasped, letting the helmet drop onto the floor. “What’s the matter, little one?”

“I’m going to be alone,” she choked. “Wendell, Dax and Alhannah are gone. I don’t know how to get to the warehouse if anything happened and I…” her voice failed her. Instead, she quietly shook as she sobbed into the jumpsuit.

“Hey. Hey. Look at me,” the wizard prompted, “Everything is going to be just fine.”

“Promise?”

He hesitated. “Well…I can’t really promise if I haven’t seen it, you know.”

Lili sobbed louder and buried her face in his shoulder.

“Oh for goodness….alright!” Then softer, “Alright, I promise. I’ll be back, within the hour and we’ll all go home. Satisfied?”

She sniffed and nodded.

“There now, back away, you’re gonna stain my manly jumpsuit.”

“Alright Chuck,” Freak tapped him on the shoulder, “pay attention. Put this in your ear.” He handed the wizard an earbud. “Ernie is already online and connected to the suit.”

Pushing the electronic device into his ear canal, Chuck cleared his throat. “Ahem. Testing…one…two…”

“I’m here Chuck. Hear you loud and clear,” Ernie responded.

“Here’s a warning young man—last person allowed in my head didn’t last the night. Had to lock him up, poor devil. Looney as they come now.”

Ernie chuckled into the com-link, “I’ll risk it old timer. Now listen to Freak—you need to understand the ejection sequence.”

The van slowed to a halt.

Two bangs on the cab wall. “We’re here,” Nibbles yelled.

“Right,” Freak continued, “listen carefully Chuck. You have three main buttons on the console of the S.L.A.G.. The launch, the seal and prep and the eject. The first is the biggest button…”

“Did you make it red, like I asked?”

“Yes, now the sec…”

“…and it has ‘BOOM!’ written on it?”

“It does. Now you need to…”

“…and I press that one when Ernie…”

“CHUCK!” both Ernie and Freak snapped in unison.

The wizard nearly fell over backwards. “Woah. Irritation in stereo.”

“The second button on the left—the yellow one, is a two step button. The first time will open both pods and then once Dax and Shrub are in them, a second push seals them up. The last button, the green one, is the eject button. When you’re ready to go, it will launch all three sections.”

The wizard looked a tad nervous for the first time. “And the chutes—they’re all automatic? Nothing to push or pull or scream at?”

The mechanic smirked. “All automated.”

“Right. And you put rope in the cockpit like I asked?”

“We did, but I still don’t understand why you need rope?”

Chuck patted him on the shoulder and then proceeded to climb the ladder. “Just makes me more comfortable. Never know when you can use a bit of rope.”

Freak rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

“I’m just saying…”

The vehicle rocked, then shuttered. The corner latches disengaging one from another. A strip of light entered the cargo chamber as the roof section separated and folded down to the sides. The entire vehicle was made for S.L.A.G. transportation. Slowly the back of the van transformed into a launching platform.

Chuck shimmied up and into the cockpit of the S.L.A.G. and strapped himself into the pilot seat. Flicking the ignition switch, the giant machine hummed to life.

“This is Pilot Glowpop, strapped in and ready to leave a bad taste in the governments mouth. I repeat, this is Pilot Glowpop. Come in Chicken Central—do you copy.”

Ernie choked on the other end of the com-link. “Chicken Central? I’m not going to be called…”

“Ah, ah, ah…you could have called yourself anything you liked kiddo—but as I recall, you didn’t want to risk anything you didn’t need to. Hence, chicken.”

Freak laughed.

“Where are the goodies Nibbles said she had for me?”

“Small black pouch, to your left, two smoke canisters and a couple stick-explosives. The smoke you just pull the pin and throw. For the explosives, just jam the spiked end into a surface and press the button—it’ll blow in seven seconds.”

“Big explosion?”

Freak shrugged, “Enough to take a stubborn door off the hinges, I’d guess.”

“Good enough,” Chuck rubbed his hands, excited. “Uh, guys? Don’t say anything to the girl yet—but if anything goes wrong, I want you to know that I’m grateful.”

The com-link went silent.

“You kept your ends of the agreement. Win or lose—just wanted to say…thanks.”

The mechanic sniffed and quickly averted his face from Lili’s questioning stare. “We’ll talk about that later.”

“Righteo!” Chuck cheered, “So aim me and fire already!”

Ernie sighed, “I’m getting a visual on the Citadel now. The calculations have to be exact for this to work.” The S.L.A.G. wings folded out and locked into place.

“It’s a big building—not likely you’ll miss,” the wizard studied the screen in front of him, “so fire!”

“Initiating firing sequence in 20…19…”

“Hey you!” snapped a voice from the end of the parking lot.

Both Freak and Lili spun around to see two Centurions, fully suited in riot gear, walking briskly towards them.

“Oh boy,” Freak stammered, “the cops.”

“Get rid of them, before they alert the Citadel,” said Ernie, “It could blow the whole thing!”

“But how?” the mechanic whined.

“Send the girl!” Chuck said quickly, “Have her distract them…”

“From a S.L.A.G. launch?” Ernie choked, “She’d have to poke their eyes out!”

Chuck shook his head, “They’re not here for us. With all the riots going on, I’m guessing these boys are hiding from having to engage more…resistant citizens. We’re just easy targets.”

“Psst!” Freak hissed at Lili, “Chuck says to distract them!”

The shocked look shifting to utter annoyance, she glared up at the mechanic. “Distract them. Really?”

“I said—what are you two doing up here!?” barked a Centurion, “There’s a curfew has been evoked. Show me your license and registration!”

Lili’s brows rolled forward to overshadow her eyes. “Right.” She jumped from the back of the truck and walked straight towards the Centurions.

“Evening officers,” she said in a sultry voice. Forcing a smile to her lips, she stepped one foot in front of the other, allowing her hips to sway just a bit. In an effort to hide her clenched fists, she interlaced her fingers behind her back. “We were just trying to avoid the danger down there in the streets, and…”

“I said license and registration!”

Lili’s smile grew wider. She bat her long eyelashes. “Would you at least let me see the faces of the gnomes I’m talking to?”

One mirrored helmet looked to the other.

“Please,” she added, rocking back on her heels.

“Oh…alright,” said the second officer. Slowly, both gnomes reached up and pulled their helmets free.

“Ahhh,” Lili cooed, “that’s better.”

Their smiles didn’t last. Before either of the Centurions could respond, Lili shot out a snap kick into the closest groin. The gnome heaved froward as the second stepped forward…right into her elbow strike. Cartilage snapped as his nose folded, his entire, over-sized head reeling backward. Lili pivoted her hips, dropping to a sweeping kick. The Centurion was airborne and unconscious within moments. She followed up with a jumping knee kick to the head of the first officer, rendering him likewise.

Wiping the blood from her elbow onto her blouse, she glared back at the S.L.A.G.. “They’re distracted!”

“3…2…,” Ernie continued the countdown.

Craig, momentarily distracted, lunged from the platform. He hit the ground rolling.

“1…launch!”

Double barrel jetpacks, salvaged from the losers of the last Trench Wars, exploded to life. Flame and smoke blew out, rolling down the transports bed and across the parking lot. Freak ran frantically away from the machine, cradling his bloodied elbow.

Lili covered her face as the smoke blew by her. “Good luck,” she said aloud, though only she could hear it.

Like a slingshot, the silver S.L.A.G. shot into the air, spinning wildly as it left a glowing orange and red arch in the sky.

“Wooooohooooooo!” Chuck laughed out loud. His grin stretched from ear to ear, eyes rolled back into his head as he gripped the sides of the pilot chair.

Up, up and up the machine flew, soaring towards the top of the Citadel. The last rays of sunlight glinted off the machines surface, while the trailing smoke stood out like a leaning tower of burnt marshmallows against the fading sunset.

“Five seconds to impact, Chuck,” said Ernie. “Going to swoop around to the backside of the building now. Get ready for impact in 5…4…”

The velocity continued to pin the wizard to his seat. All he could do was hang on for dear life as he was propelled through the sky. Yet the smile never left his face. Crazy as it all was…this was an adventure of a lifetime and he was beside himself with excitement.

Red lights flashed along the dashboard. Warning signals built into the S.L.A.G. to alert pilots of oncoming missiles or oversized objects used as weapons. The outer cameras showed the rapid approach of the penthouse.

…definitely an oversized object.

“And contact,” Ernie blurted out—just as the machine collided with the building. Several windows from the floors below, cracked or shattered, the metal frame of the structure bowing.

Chuck rattled violently in the pilot cage of the S.L.A.G.. Steel fingers, now gripping outer skeleton of the Citadel, locked in place. Strange sounds the wizard could not identify, chirped and grumbled around him as the hands of the machine flash welded in place. Trails of smoke rolled over the rigid arms.

“Alright Chuck, the S.L.A.G.’s fused to the building. You’re fastened into place.”

“I can’t fall?” he asked, somewhat sheepishly.

“They’re going to have to cut that machine loose. When you’re ready, all you’ll have to do is unlock the cockpit. Normally that would cause a S.L.A.G. to lower to the ground—but since you’re not on the ground, the legs will raise to meet the chest. That should pull the escape pods into reach.” He paused, “That is…if we did this right.”

Unbuckling his seat belts, Chuck stumbled forward, his legs a bit wobbly. “Next question boys. If I’m outside and there’s a window between me and the penthouse…uh, how do I get in?” He looked about and grinned at the black pouch. Without a word, he slung it over his shoulder.

The buzz of the shoulder camera echoed through the cockpit.

“Check your monitor, Chuck,” Ernie said bluntly, “I don’t think the glass is what you’ll have to worry about.”

Black suits spread out across the living room, machine guns in hand. Some took a tactical position behind furniture, others behind cabinetry. With a nod from their leader, they opened fire.

With short squeal, the wizard hit the floor, hands covering his head. Glass shattered between the machine and the penthouse as the air crackled with gun powder and bullets.

Tink! T-t-tink! Tink! Tink! Tink! T-t-t-t-tink! echoed the sound through the cockpit, bullets ricocheting off the S.L.A.G.’s surface. It took a moment for the logistics to sink in before Chuck peeked out from under his wide rim hat.

“Oh,” Chuck gasped, peeking up from the floor, “right. I’m in here, they’re out there.” Grabbing the edge of the console, he lifted himself up from the floor and adjusted his robes. “Jumpsuit gave me a wedgie anyway,” he said to himself, then louder, “Not to worry, I’m alright.” He peered at the monitor. The bodyguards were reloading their guns. “Trouble is…how do I get past these boy without becoming Swiss cheese?”

“What’s Swiss cheese?” Ernie asked.

“Never mind. Any suggestions?”

Tink! Tink! T-t-t-t-tink!

“Well, the first thing is to…,” the S.L.A.G. started to rise, bending in half and thrusting the torso through the large opening of the window, “is get you and the escape pods into the penthouse.” The gnomes resumed their firing as the machine advanced. They spread out, taking cover behind retaining walls and cabinet counters. As the chest nestled onto the floor, the two egg-shaped containers slid forward on mechanical arms. “There Chuck, the chest and pods should be side by side. Just hit the prep and seal button on the left. Once you three are all strapped in and secure, press the escape button on the right.”

“Got it.” Tink! Tink! T-t-t-t-tink! T-t-t-t-tink! He watched the monitor until the bodyguards started to reload. “How do I open the cockpit?”

“There is a red toggle switch on the upper right corner of the console.”

Making a few clenching motions to warm up his fingers, Chuck took several sharp breaths. “You can do this,” he whispered to himself.

“What?” Ernie asked.

“Not now!” the wizard snapped, yanking the com-link from his ear. He tossed it onto the console. “Mind has to be clear.” Another set of sharp breaths. “Ready…set…” With a whip of his finger, he hit the toggle switch.

The S.L.A.G. vibrated as the cockpit door lifted. With it, an explosion of gunfire.

T-t-t-t-tink! Tink! Tink! Tink! Tink! T-t-t-t-tink! T-t-t-t-tink!

Chuck ducked behind the console with a loud “DOH!” Sparks flew overhead as bullets buzzed into the cockpit, whizzing about his head. “Come on you ninnies…empty your…”

click-click-click

“Right!” Kneeling up, Chuck closed his eyes and held his arms aloft. Ancient words came to his lips. Words he had not spoken for generations. When you’re a mägo…a really good one with proper experience, there was no need to kill the innocent. Or, in this case, the stupid. An educated weaver of magic knew how to put people to “sleep,” he finally whispered.

One by one the gnomes dropped their guns and fell to the floor in a deep and peaceful slumber.

Chuck peeked over the rim of the cockpit door. Bushy eyebrows bouncing up and down as his eyes shifted from side to side, scanning the battlefield. “Hello?” he called out, but no one answered.

Popping up to his feet, he flipped his hat back on his head. He made a wide bow. “And that is how you…,” pause, “Ah. Right. All alone,” he sighed, “Never mind.” Grabbing his rope, he slung it over a shoulder and slid down the front of the S.L.A.G. into the penthouse. Tiptoeing, he carefully walked among the bodyguards. Shattered glass was everywhere, holes in walls and even a few planters lay in pieces, soil across the floor.

“Ungh…” moaned one of the guards.

“Whoopah!” Chuck blurted out, jumping back. “We have a live one, do we?” Snapping his fingers, the wizards dragon staff jumped from its hidden location to his hand. He knelt down, inspecting the muscular gnome. “You’re a strong willed one, my boy. Impressive.” Tapping a finger to his lips, “Guess we’ll have to use a stronger option.” Rising to his full height, Chuck struck the bodyguard across the head with the end of his staff.

Poking the body a few times, he nodded in satisfaction.

“Now to the business at hand,” he muttered, dashing down the hallway. At each room he dropped his staff down in front of him like a rifle, then flung the door open. When he stumbled upon President Shrub, he grinned. “One down!” The gnome didn’t look mobile, however—he looked sickly and fevered. An I.V. protruded from his arm, but there were no machines. Chuck lifted an eyelid, checked a pulse and listened closely to the pattern of breathing. At least he was still breathing on his own, even though it was labored and shallow.

“What have they done to you?” he whispered, gently touching the pale hand. Eyes moving rapidly behind closed lids, sweat trickling down the sides of the Presidents face. Even his lips were blue—yet the room was warm and comfortable. No window as open, no draft could be felt. Chuck inspected the liquid dripping down the tube. He was no doctor, but he had a hunch that the solution wasn’t helping. Slowly, he pulled the tube from Shrubs arm.

Laying a hand on the gnomes head, the other at the center of his chest, the wizard closed his eyes. Once more, ancient word rolled over tongue and across his lips. This was more familiar—an art he’d developed many years ago. But there was always someone who needed to be healed. Someone who could use a release of pain. Again he repeated words that few knew. A minute passed, then another. Shrubs breathing evened out, slowing, becoming steady and deep. Another minute after that, the gnomes shoulders relaxed.

Chuck let his hands drop to his sides and stumbled backwards. Tiny lights danced around the edges of his vision…and he coughed loudly.

Shrubs eyes fluttered open. “You’re…back,” he said weakly.

“Come to get you and Dax—though I don’t think we have much time.” Tucking the blankets around Shrub, he started to slide his arms under the round frame, but the President stopped him.

“No, I’m staying.”

“What? You can’t stay here, my boy—not safe. Beside I have two kids I don’t want anymore. You’re their father, so come on.”

“No,” he said firmly. “I can’t go. The people responsible for all this trouble will be left in charge, with the power and the ability to hurt more of the good citizens of this city.”

The wizard frowned deeply. “You’re not exactly in a position to resist them, now, are you?”

“It doesn’t matter. I gave my word to the people. I made an oath. It is my duty.”

“Well I’ll be…” Chucks mustache rose to either side of his face in a broad smile, “You gnomes never cease to amaze me. I can see why the boys chose to make this place their mortal home.”

“What? Who…are you talking about?” Shrub asked, perplexed.

Chuck patted him on the head, “Nothing you need to worry about.”

Overhead and out in the hall, the overhead lights flickered. A high pitched beeping rang through the penthouse. It was accompanied by a female voice.

“Intruder alert. Intruder alert. There has been a breach to the Citadel security, floor 236—Presidential Suite. All available military personnel proceed to private lift #1. This is an intruder alert.”

The wizard gulped, “I gotta go.”

The President nodded weakly, “You have about three minutes before they show up,” and he closed his eyes once more.

Snatching the staff, Chuck ran to the end of the hall—the only door left.

The stench was sickening. From the moment the door was flung wide, the foul stench assaulted his senses and Chuck was forced to raise the sleeve of his robe to his mouth. Dax lay motionless on his bed. His skin, which was normally a darker shade of green, had lost most of its color. Instead, his face, chest and arms looked more like the fading paper of an ancient scroll—fragile and brittle. Tubes jutted out from his arms, neck and face—some hooked to I.V. bags hanging overhead, trailing clear and yellow liquids, while others drained the crimson red blood from him…running over the edge of the bed and into bottles on the floor.

The bottles. Dozens of containers filled with the elf’s blood were scattered across the carpeted floor.

Chuck stepped across the clusters, though he longed to kick them against the walls and shatter them.

“What have they been doing to you?” he choked out, though he forced his tears far from him. There was no time to question. No time to think. This was the last chance to escape.

“Looks like someone noticed the great big metal thingy crashing into the building,” the wizard mumbled, looking for some from of clean sheet. He yanked open a cabinet door and pulled an extra blanket from the shelf. “Come on monkey…this’ll have to do until we can get you to a better place.” But he hesitated.

Dax’s pale skin unnerved him. Lips of grey blue, charcoal rings under his sunken eyes—this was not an illness. His closest friend was being poisoned. Leaving the staff to stand on its own, Chuck quickly tossed the blanket across a free space on the floor and then proceeded to pull the tubes from Dax’s body. Blood seeped out and ran freely across the pale surface of his skin.

Placing hand over head and heart, Chuck closed his eyes and whispered the words of healing.

There was a cost for using such magic unprepared. Blood drained from the wizards face, until his own countenance took upon the mirror image of the evolu. His knees nearly buckled then, and his eyes popped open wide—his mouth dropping open, gasping for breath.

“That’s all for now,” he coughed. Grasping Dax under the arms, he pulled the evolu from his bed and let the oversized feet thump onto the floor and dragged him onto the blanket. Nodding, “That should help.”

Beep-Beep-Beep, the alarm continued to echo throughout the penthouse as Chuck whipped around the hallway, pulling the prone, pale body across the floor behind him. Dax’s body flipped and rolled, banging into the walls, the wizard grunting from the exertion.

“Diet,” Chuck yelled aloud, “That’s the new word you need to learn!”

“Unghhhh,” moaned the bodyguard as they passed.

Chuck stopped, looked around him, then gave a short whistle. His dragon staff raced around the corner, jumping into his palm. Following the momentum, he swung the wood and knocked the guard back out.

He wasn’t sure how much time he had left, but it wasn’t much. Reinforcements would be here soon—and they’d be killed or captured. Unfortunately, his money was on the former. “Ungh,” he grunted, pulling himself up onto the S.L.A.G. until he could reach the console. Fingers stretched and hunted about, locating the small earbud.

“You still there?” he stammered, winded, “‘Cause this is a LOT more exercise than I was willing to contribute, I’ll have to you know…”

“Chuck!” Ernie screamed.

“What!” the wizard screamed back, whipping around, crouching in a defensive posture with his fists up.

“You’re there!” cheered the gnome into the com-link.

Frowning, “Well of course I’m…where else would I be?” He shook his head, irritated. “Stupid child.”

“I just…,” the gnome started to explain, but the wizard cut him off.

“I have Dax.” Glancing back at the evolu’s body on the floor, “How do I open these pods again?”

“Left button is to open and seal.”

“Thank YOU,” Chuck said, smacking the left button triumphantly on the console. “Got it!” He quickly slid off the nose of the machine and dashed to Dax’s side. “Almost out of here, little one. Just a few minutes and you’ll be…”

“Wow” Ernie chimed impressed, “You’re amazing!”

Chuck grunted under Dax’s dense weight, dragging his body out of the blanket. “Well I have been working out a bit. Leg presses, squats…,” he turned towards the S.L.A.G., just in time to see the pilot cockpit close.

“Hey, hey, HEY!” he shouted, dropping the evolu with a thud and sprinting towards the machine.

“Don’t panic,” Ernie said calmly, “I have this covered.”

“You do?” Chuck asked, perplexed. Lights flashed from behind the cockpit window and the pods retracted from the penthouse altogether. “Because I don’t think…”

“Trust me,” Ernie insisted.

The wizard shrugged and wandered back to Dax. “Ok, but I’m going to need another pod to put this monkey into.”

“What monkey?”

“Dax.” Snorting, “It’s just a nickname I…”

“Dax?”

With a gust and billow of smoke, both pots and the chest piece of the S.L.A.G. shot out the window and into the air, rockets blazing.

Chuck dropped Dax onto the floor…again. “That’s what I said.”

“You’re not IN the pods?!!” Ernie screamed.

Nose flaring and mustache quivering, Chuck stared at the shell attached to the side of the building. His only escape plan…which had escaped without him. “No,” he whispered, fuming, “we are not.”

“Then why,” said the gnome, perfectly mimicking the wizards tone, “did you press the eject button?”

“I didn’t,” he replied with a deep breath. He let his eyes fall upon Dax’s seemingly lifeless body, “I pressed the left button.”

For several moments only static could be heard over the link. The wind whipped through the opening of the building, the alarm suddenly cutting out.

Chuck glanced around him, eyes flicking about.

The S.L.A.G. was completely useless to him now. Nothing was left behind that he could use except a giant frame now welded to the side of the Citadel building. The guards spread out over the floor would be waking up soon and the big cootie which he’d struck twice with the staff would be overly joyed to catch them. The elevator numbers were rolling up, which meant whatever forces that gathered to deal with this perceived threat would be here momentarily. Dax was completely unconscious and would be of absolutely no help whatsoever.

Brilliant.

Pulling the rope from up and over his shoulder, he dropped down next to the evolu and rolled him back over, into the blanket. Folding the top and bottom together, Chuck completely encompassed Dax and then wrapped his torso with the cord, making sure to loop the rope between his legs every third rotation.

“You were facing the console…weren’t you?” Ernie finally asked.

“Doesn’t matter,” Chuck muttered.

“Doesn’t matter? You just shot your escape pods out of the building and, oh yeah….you weren’t in them!”

Rope is a wonderful thing. You never know when a good, long strand of weaved cord will come in handy. Hang a tent, use for a clothes line, or, in this case…jump from a skyscraper.

“It doesn’t matter,” he repeated without stopping. With Dax secure, Chuck used the remaining line to strap the body to himself. “I have rope.”

“Rope?” Ernie coughed, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” he replied, pulling the bud from his ear, “That you are distracting me,” and he tossed the bud out the window.

Struggling under the weight, Chuck rose to his feet. “Come here you,” he called to the staff, with obediently jumped to his aid. Stroking the dragons head affectionately, he wandered across the glass fragments and to the ledge of the open window. “Wake up,” he prompted, “I need your help!” Wood lids blinked. Looking out over the vastness of…nothing, Chuck gripped the metal frame next to him. “Oh my.”

The staff gave a short yap, shaking its head as it came to life. Its voice carried the undertone of cracking branches.

“I’m not sure what I’m doing,” Chuck replied nervously. Did he dare to look down and see how big of a chance he was taking? He peeked and instantly regretted it. “That’s where you come in.”

The crystal eyes looked up, the small head tilting to one side. The creature gave a shirt gurgle, then a few short yaps.

“Did I accuse you about anything? No, I did not!” the wizard snapped, “You are not at fault. I am not blaming you…for ANYthing here, alright!” Then, lowering his voice, “But I do have to rely on you now.”

A short pause, then several more yaps, ending with a soft growl.

“Because,” Chuck said soberly, looking into the crystal eyes, “If you don’t, we’re going to die.”

The dragon snorted, then nodded its head.

“I need you to fly us down from here,” he said softly.

Sharp squawks and hisses snapped out from the dragons beak, which bobbed up and down like a telegraph machine.

“What happened to the humility and willingness to help your master?” he bellowed, eyes watching the elevator numbers growing.

Hisses were followed by a sharp snort, the dragon looking away.

“Changed your mind!?! It was two seconds ago!”

The creatures eyes refocussed once more on the wizard, its head making bobbing motions while the beak opened silently in rapid succession. If any words were spoken, only it’s master could hear them.

“I know you’re not an umbrella, but if a British nanny can float around with an umbrella and a handbag—you should be able to carry a gnome and an elf!”

Snort.

“He is not fat,” he retorted, “But I’m afraid you’re out of time,” his voice quivered. Behind them, the elevator dinged and the door slid open.

Closing his eyes and gripping the staff in a death grip, Chuck jumped.