Thursday, April 28, 2011

Commander Kilfry Versus the Future Man

The soft, steady thrum of the rotary fan high overhead punctuated the tense silence of the abandoned awesomite silo. Kilfry felt the crisp crunch of residual crystals grinding underneath his combat boots as he crept forward through the maze of galvanised tubing.
Humanity had long since forgotten the awesomite boom some several hundred years earlier. Kilfry was amazed that structures like this still existed, deep beneath the winding pneuro-communication conductors and the hydro-electrical ducts supporting the civilised world high above. Awesomite was a man-made compound that had highly anomalous energetic qualities. One pound of refined awesomite contained enough raw power to maintain single domestic household for a year. Unfortunately, awesomite also had a tendency to release unpredictable bursts of highly mutagenic omega radiation. Sadly, no-one had been aware of this fact until the awesomite silos had all simultaneously turned critical ten-years into the awesomite craze. The ensuing plague of mutant rats and city council workers had been utterly devastating.
As the sulphurous smell of sterilisation agents wafted through from the bowels of the silo Kilfry did his best to block his nose with the photon pistol in his hand.
At least the residual awesomite here has been neutralised, thought Kilfry with relief. Although, I have always wanted a third penis…
As Commander Kilfry steadily pressed deeper through the abandoned industrial storage facility, he reflected on the wild adventure that had brought him here; his daring rescue of the Royal Vizier from the exploding Pneurophonic Symposium Centre, his gritty shakedown of numerous lowlifes from back-water dives and seedy bars, his brief but highly sensual sexual encounter with not just one but two women, who had been nice enough to only charge him half price.
This case has proved to be quite the web of intrigue and deception, Kilfry conceded as he absent-mindedly licked the barrel of his energy weapon. It would make an excellent movie, or perhaps a short story, as long as attention was given to the more exciting aspects of the journey, and is not wasted on long internal soliloquies or unimportant personal observations.
Kilfry nodded thoughtfully to himself as he passed into another large, echoing chamber of the silo. A chlorosustainant light source broke the gloom high overhead, its beam consistently severed by the rotations of another humming ventilation fan. The light danced eerily around the inside of the large metallic coffin, creating pockets of gloom around the starry refractions of glittering awesomite particles.
“So, you finally found me, eh Kilfry?” croaked a husky voice from a shadowy corner of the storage chamber. “I’ve waited for this moment for some time…”
Kilfry’s photon pistol whipped out as he took aim at the shadow-cloaked stranger. The Commander desperately squinted through the dim-lighting of the underground chamber, doing his best penetrate the nefarious villain’s veil of darkness.
“So…” Kilfry enunciated carefully. “You must be the one who planted the bombs? The criminal mastermind who has been terrorising the city? You must be… ‘the Future Man’?”
The shadowy puppet-master chortled hoarsely to himself.
“I don’t know that I must be…” he confided slyly. “But yes. I am.”
With a loping, hunched gait, the strange man stepped into the light.
Commander Kilfry gasped.
“B...” stuttered Kilfry in shock. “… Badmoo?”
The Future Man cackled and raised his arms triumphantly.
“Yes!” he hissed villainously. “It is I! Your trusted friend and partner…”
“Sidekick,” interjected Kilfry pointedly.
Badmoo seethed quietly for a moment.
“Yes…” Badmoo muttered agitatedly. “Yes, I am the villainous mastermind, ‘the Future Man’.”
“But you’re an officer of the Intergalactic Defence force!” Kilfry exclaimed in impassioned tones. “You and I are the only two officers of the Intergalactic Defence force! We have untempered respect and financial backing from the entirety of the human race! Why the fuck would you thrown that away?! To blow up a few cultural landmarks?? I mean… Look at you! You look like shit, dude!”
Badmoo pulled his rat-skin cloak more tightly around his shoulders and combed his long, matted brown hair back carefully.
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand, Kilfry…” the Future Man told him dismissively. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand the pain of playing second fiddle to a moron. I wouldn’t expect you to understand the futility of a life spent in stasis, with zero promotion prospects. I mean, there’s a good chance that neither of us will ever age or die due to the technological advancement of our species. We have been protecting the human race for over two hundred years now! Two hundred fucking years!! Did you know that the government won’t let us retire?? I tried! They said that they’ve ‘invested too much time and money in preserving our physical wellbeings’… Bastards…”
Badmoo sighed wearily and hung his head.
“I couldn’t handle another two hundred years of it, Kilfry,” he confided. “No… I’m going to fix the world! I’m going to give us a better future!”
Kilfry examined the hunched form of the Future Man in disdain.
“And your future involves not showering, and systematically mashing baked-beans into your teeth?” Kilfry asked squeamishly. “Where the hell did you get baked-beans from anyway? I haven’t seen those in years… And why aren’t you wearing any clothes??”
Badmoo cackled maniacally and flung his vermin-skin cloak back.
Kilfry averted his eyes modestly.
“My future is the future of all things, Kilfry!” shrieked the Future Man. “Entropy and decay is the true nature of all things! Not even the technological might of the human race can resist it! Buildings will crumble! Cities will fall before the ravages of time! Look upon me, and behold the future!!”
Kilfry fired off a searing photon beam into the Future Man’s exposed genitals. With a whimper, Badmoo collapsed on the ground.
“I’ve neutralised the terrorist,” Kilfry announced into his wrist communicator. “Send in the retrieval team.”
Commander Kilfry strolled over to the prone form of Ex-Lieutenant Badmoo and shook his head disdainfully.
“So… after orchestrating all those sequential terrorist attacks across the city,” he asked, “You really didn’t have a plan to deal with me when I finally tracked you down?”
“I’m more of a ‘long-term’ strategist than a tactician,” the Future Man murmured into the cold metal floor of the silo.
Kilfry nodded thoughtfully as he rested a foot on Badmoo’s back and extracted a cigarillo from his belt.
“By the way,” he said conversationally as he lit the tip of the small cigar with a photon blast, “I fucked your sister.”

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