Abe's Expoddition

[Lord Stanley]

I went on a one-day vacation, that's how I was able to write so much so suddenly.

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Lord Fragg woke from sleep at the sound of a gun being cocked all too close to his head.

Immediately the Glukkon whirled around in his fold-up cot, ignoring his brief flash of fear as he grabbed at the place where he kept his last-ditch Burnout laser pistol.

Only to have that flash of fear transform into full-out fear. The pistol wasn’t where he’d left it.

“You don’t think I’d be as careless as all that,” said a voice that was certainly a Mudokon.

Fragg rolled over and looked up. It was a blue-skinned Mudokon, with an old-model Snuzi pistol with its barrel so close that Fragg could look right up to the firing chamber, and the bullet inside it.

“Abe,” Fragg whispered. “How?”

“Oh, just some of my personal brilliance,” Abe chuckled quietly. “I bet you thought I couldn’t do anything with just four Mudokons as my companions, but I’ve defeated your whole army.”

Fragg narrowed his eyes. “You couldn’t have beaten my whole army.”

As he spoke, he began inching his arm down toward the comlink at his side. If he could get to it, and find a way to get the gun out of his face…

“This will probably sound like gloating,” Abe chuckled, “but it was brilliant. All I had to do was use Grunn to distract the south guards, while Lowrn and Ferg took care of the east. I just had to knock out your tent guards and get in here.”

Fragg licked the edges of his mouth, as he moved his hand slowly toward the device. “My soldiers could use more training.”

“Yes, they could.” Abe reached down and picked up the comlink, tossing it idly in his free hand. Fragg swore under his breath at the loss of his hope. “Oh, don’t think this would have done you any good,” the Mudokon said, as he tossed it away. “I’ve already taken the precaution of turning it off.”

Fragg clenched his fists. “What do you want from me, Mudokon?”

“I want you to turn off the deadman interlocks on the Mudokon slaves on their way to Mantin City,” Abe spat. “Now.”

“Why would I do that?” Fragg growled. He cast his gaze madly around the room, but there didn’t appear to be anything useful around.

Abe smiled, holding the gun back up to Fragg’s head. “I don’t think you want to die yet.”

“No…” Fragg bowed his head. “Bring me an Information Pad, and –”

“You can tell me the code now,” Abe interrupted. “I don’t trust you; that’s why I have this gun.”

“Right.” Fragg suddenly had an idea, and realized that, even if he told the hero the interlock’s deactivation codes, it wouldn’t matter, because Abe would be dead. “The code…the code is 89102.”

Abe smiled. “Thanks for telling me.”

The Mudokon closed his eyes for a moment. “89102…”

And in that moment, Fragg rolled forward, swinging out one mechanically-enhanced leg to kick the Mudokon terrorist in the stomach. Abe buckled, finger depressing the trigger to blow a hole through the tent wall. Fragg got to his feet, delivering a sharp punch to Abe’s face as he shouted, “Guards! Get in here now!”

* * *

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Cloud the Slig didn’t like his job much. It wasn’t just the fact that, as a Slig, he was almost certainly going to meet his end by being possessed and then blown to bits by some sociopath Mudokon terrorist, but the way that their Glukkon overseers were the only ones who profited from the deals the Slig chieftains made with them. True, beating up the Mudokon slaves provided them with some fun, but Abe didn’t like it when they did that, and Abe was somewhere around here now.

The Slig flexed his gun, and glanced around Lord Fragg’s camp. Guard duty was such a boring task. Stationed at a point inside the camp, only a few feet from Lord Fragg’s tent, he was more privileged because he was closer to the fires his fellow soldiers had lit to keep warm. The guards at the south and east posts had been alerted by Mudokons, but here, in the middle of camp, he hadn’t seen anything but sleeping Sligs.

Which was not, in itself, a bad thing. Cloud recognized that boring was usually better than bad, because a bored Slig was better off than a dying Slig, even if boring wasn’t very exciting. Being in the army wasn’t exciting, but, as a slug with mechanical pants and a room-temperature IQ and itchy trigger finger, what better life was he suited for than that of a soldier, just the same as all his soldier brothers and sisters? Why should he be better off than the rest of them? Why should he stay in the city, where Abe would be less likely to strike at them?

Cloud sighed to himself. It was so boring in this army. Abe was supposedly in this area, but –

Zzang!

Cloud looked between his feet at the sudden hole a bullet had plowed into the dirt, his eyes going wide with shock. The Slig traced the bullet’s path to the hole in Lord Fragg’s tent, where he could hear sounds of a Glukkon and Mudokon grunting.

“Attack!” Cloud shouted half-heartedly. “Lord Fragg’s under attack!”

He hurried toward the door of the tent, holding his Barrage laser rifle like a club, knowing he couldn’t shoot in such close proximity to Lord Fragg and all the other Slig soldiers in the army. Maybe it wasn’t so bad being in the army after all, if it involved attacks on their commanding officer’s tent in the middle of the night.

He pushed his way through the tent door, raising his rifle above his head –

And a Mudokon came leaping through the air at him, raising a Snuzi pistol above his head and screaming a war cry. Cloud only had time for one clichéd “Oh, boy…” before the Mudokon brought the butt of that pistol over his head. The Slig suddenly saw nothing but blackness.

* * *

[Hulaabeo]

Really really good! MOAR!

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER FORTY

Abe broke and ran for his life. He could hear the Sligs all around the camp shouting suddenly, as they saw him racing toward the boundaries and the shelter of the surrounding rocky wilderness. Abe went into three duck-and-rolls, each time getting close and closer to the edge of the camp.

Behind him, he could hear Lord Fragg shouting, “After him! Set for stun and bring him to me!”

All around the camp, Sligs charged after Abe.

The Mudokon spun around, raising his Snuzi pistol and firing at the first Slig he saw. The soldier screamed hoarsely, grabbing at his neck as he fell on the ground.

Immediately Abe’s single shot was joined with dozens of stun blasts, flying from the barrels of dozens of Slig rifles. They whizzed through the air with unusual blatt-blatt noises.

The good news was that, because the stun energy was simply a very low-powered laser with a bit of stun gas packed inside, the energy spray was wider and thus much more subject to bad accuracy, so the stun blasts were mostly bad shots. The bad news was that, since there were dozens of Sligs in the camp, all shooting at him, there were more than enough shots to fill up the whole spectrum, leaving Abe no room to dodge.

That meant that, even though he ducked to the ground and began crawling away from them, clinging desperately to the hope he wouldn’t be hit, a stun blast came out of nowhere – actually, it came from a Barrage 32-A Slig rifle – and struck him in the palm of his foot. Instantly, his foot went numb, and made it impossible to crawl.

Instead of bemoaning his fate, Abe rolled over onto his back, raising the Snuzi gun and pumping shots at anything that moved, even if it wasn’t a Slig. “Blast you!” he screamed, pulling the trigger and sending harsh vibrations up his arms. He knew his bullets were running low, but he didn’t care. “To blazes with you all!”

The stun bolts stopped flying, and as his Snuzi made a dry click, Abe’s bullets stopped flying as well. Instead of lowering his gun, he hurled it at the nearest Slig, who was too stupid to duck and was leveled by the empty pistol. Abe felt a brief flash of regret at abandoning the weapon that served him so well against Vastor, the Wolvark, and Fragg, but with the hundreds of Sligs coming toward him, he didn’t have so much regret as fear.

He had failed them; failed all those slaves still trapped in Lord Fragg’s slave line, on their way to more work in the dreaded Mantin City. He had failed his friends – he’d brought them back into the fight for nature, and now he was lying here, about to be pacified.

It was almost funny, how life could twist so.

“Sir, we’ve got Abe now!” one of the Sligs shouted out, and Abe bowed his head. It was true.

They had beaten him.

* * *

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

The Slig in the front of the group moved forward –

And a rock sailed through the air.

With inSligane reflexes, several of the soldiers raised their weapons up to their shoulders to point at the airborne missile; some even managed to open fire, but with little result. Abe clutched at the ground and tried to pull himself backward with the strength of his arms, in the moment when they were distracted.

The rock struck the leading Slig on the arm, bending his arm backward, and the carbine, still spraying shots, managed to burn dents and holes in several of the Sligs behind him, before he let up on the trigger.

“Hey!” Sligs screamed. “Cease fire – friendly fire!”

Abe tried to scrabble backwards, but the other Sligs were already coming forward, half of them holding their weapons high while the other half came toward Abe, weapons held out menacingly.

The Mudokon stopped moving. Instead of snarling at the evil soldiers, he smiled brightly. “You soldiers are so stupid. Why don’t you just stun me, before I escape?”

The Slig laughed coldly. “Because I want to gloat, of course! What’s the point of winning if you can’t gloat over your worst enemy for a couple of seconds, and then knock him out?”

“Because it exposes you to enemy fire,” Abe pointed out.

The Slig scratched his chin with one finger. “Uh, yeah…”

Another rock flew out of the blackness and struck the Slig between his eyes with a meaty smack, and the soldier groaned once and fell down without a theatrical stagger. Instantly all the other Sligs raised their guns and opened fire on the night sky, even though there was nothing there.

But as something real stepped out of the shadows, folding his arms across his chest, all the Sligs whirled around, ceasing fire with surprise.

Abe looked at the being beside him in surprise.

It was Alf.

The green-skinned Mudokon was standing there, fully exposed to any Slig who would pull his trigger, looking as defiant as anything despite the great danger. Abe had never known Alf to be the bravest of Mudokons – on the contrary, Alf had always been one to leech off the success of others, and was always bragging about how he was Abe’s friend and companion on so many adventures. Never had Abe known him to take a stand when his life was so much in risk. But now, looking up at him now, he felt a flash of pride for his friend and companion.

That’s telling ’em, Abe thought with a grin.

“Abe’s never alone,” Alf said coldly, and turned to Abe, tossing him a small, heavy metal object. Abe caught it, surprised that the Sligs had not yet opened fire on them, and his eyes grew wide.

A Barrage 32-A laser carbine, just like the ones the Sligs used! That meant the Mudokons had actually killed one of the guards!

Only then did the Sligs open fire with a barrage of stun bolts, filling the air with their forced-slumber missiles. Alf threw himself flat on the ground in an attempt to dodge the bolts, as Abe pressed himself lower.

“You might want to think of the deadman interlock,” Alf whispered in his ear. “And be quick about it.”

Abe knew immediately what he meant. He held the tip of the gun up to his head. “Cease fire, or I’ll pull this trigger!”

One of the Sligs in front shouted, “Cease fire!”

Abe grinned, and nodded at Alf. He sat up as best he could, keeping the gun up to his forehead.

“Why should we care if you pull that trigger?” the Slig captain snorted. “It rids us of your scum –”

“There’s a big reward on me,” Abe said. “Substantial enough that all of you could buy martinis for a month without having to scrounge.”

He crossed his fingers; he really had no idea whether there was a bounty on his head, but judging from the way that Wolvark had attacked him back in the box canyon, that seemed a pretty good guess. The Glukkons hated him so much anyway…

“Martinis?” one Slig repeated, and Abe could hear the anticipation dripping from his voice. “Really?”

One of the tougher old veterans smacked him across the head. “No, you fool! He’s just trying to trick you!”

“There is a reward,” Abe said firmly. “But if you want to get it, you have to bring me back to Mantin City…alive. If I’m dead, the reward is cut in half.”

The Slig in the front of the party slowly lowered his gun, and even in the dark of the night, Abe could see the eagerness in his eyes. “All right, Abe! We’re letting you go now…but as soon as dawn breaks, we’ll be after you!”

Abe motioned to Alf, who grabbed him by the shoulders and began dragging him back into the night. “I know you’ll come after me,” Abe said, “but not now. Give Lord Fragg my regards, you know?”

He made sure he had a fierce grin on his face, as Alf took him off the scene.

* * *

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Lord Fragg just stared in horror as the Mudokon disappeared. How could his Sligs be such fools as to want the reward more than they wanted to be loyal servants of their Glukkon masters? If this Abe had ever turned his big hands to politics, he would either have been assassinated immediately, or gone on to be president of all Mudokons living!

Fragg sighed. Another day, another two failed attempts to kill Abe. But he would not give up. He would –

He would have to warn the Sligs in the slave line about Abe’s knowledge of the interlock release codes! Abe could probably be upon them within a day, and, with his blasted otherworldly luck, could probably manage to rescue a few of the slaves and kill several guards!

Fragg rushed back into his tent, ignoring the bullethole and the Slig who’d been conked on the head during Abe’s escape. He scrabbled around his bed and under it, trying to find the familiar metal shape of his Info Pad, intent upon warning his other minions.

Five minutes later, he was on the verge of screaming. There was a small note under his cot:

Lord Fragg,

Since you are a Glukkon, and I am a Mudokon, and your enemy, it was a small matter of brilliance on my part to relieve you of your Info Pad. I am to blame for any inconveniences you might experience without it.

Sincerely,
Abe

Fragg clenched his fist, shredding the note into multiple pieces, and then cast those pieces outside the tent. At least he still had his comlink…

He grabbed the device and switched it on, setting the signal to the remote frequency of his slave drivers. “This is Lord Fragg –” he began, but was interrupted by a loud electronic squeal from the comlink that made him jump back in surprise.

Fragg groaned, and threw the comlink onto his cot. Abe was using his Info Pad to jam the comlink transmissions! No signal could get out, not even a message to send rude noises at Abe!

How brilliantly evil could that one Mudokon terrorist be?!

* * *

Abe tapped a button on the stolen Info Pad, grinning broadly. “Looks like Fragg just tried to send a transmission.”

Lowrn grunted under Abe’s weight; he and Grunn, the biggest of the band, had been picked to serve as Abe’s carriers until his stunned foot came back to its senses. “I bet…I bet he’s real upset now,” Lowrn said.

“Yeah.” Abe waved the Info Pad. “We have the interlock release codes. Now we need to catch up to the Sligs.”

“Hopefully not right now!” Grunn strained. “You’re really heavy!”

“Why don’t you just put in the interlock codes right now?” Alf said. “Then we could get rid of this Info Pad.”

Abe shook his head. “You don’t understand how the interlocks work. The Sligs can feel it when their deadman interlocks deactivate, and if we did it right now, they would just turn it back on and change the codes, and then we’d never get those slaves freed.”

Alf sighed. “Oh. I didn’t know that.”

Abe nodded. “I know. That’s what I’m here for.”

* * *

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Cloud the Slig sat on one side of the fire, eagerly entertaining anyone who would listen to him – which was, by this time, almost a dozen other Sligs. He gestured frantically, trying to best convey his story. “Yeah, then I run inside the tent and there’s this Abe guy right there, so I whack him right across the gut with my gun stock.”

Enthusiastic and awed gasps came around the fire. Cloud basked in them, grinning under his face-tentacles.

“Abe fell on the ground, so I pulled up my gun and told him, You surrender or I’ll shoot ya! And would you guess what – he gave up!” Cloud slapped his hand on his knee. “Yeah, boys, I was herdin’ him back across the camp when he broke free, but I was right there in the front lines tryin’ to get him back!”

More gasps and oohs and ahs rose from the Sligs –

And then lord Fragg walked up from the other side of the fire, right behind the crowd. Cloud froze with terror; the Glukkon’s face was twisted with a demonic smile.

“Enjoying yourself?” the Glukkon sneered.

Cloud hopped immediately to his feet, as did all the others. “Yes, si – uh, I mean, no – er, did you have a job for me, sir?”

“Yes, I did,” Fragg whispered.

Cloud laced his fingers together, biting his lips. He hoped Fragg wouldn’t be too angry with him for greatly embellishing the story, because Cloud had done nothing more than get knocked out…

The Glukkon roared, “SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP!”

Cloud immediately did as he was ordered, hurling himself onto the ground so hard that his mechanical pants squealed in protest.

Fragg whirled around, waving his hand at all the other Sligs camped out around the fire. “And that goes for you, too! Shut up and go to sleep, all of you! We’re packing out of here at dawn!”

The Glukkon turned and stormed away, waving his arms angrily.

Cloud watched him go, lying down beside the fire. The Glukkon’s tirade had not been the best thing for his storytelling session, but at least he hadn’t had to ask the dreaded “Any questions?,” because any embellished story had problems when other people were the ones asking the questions, and he had to think of new answers.

Cloud sighed, and rolled over onto his stomach. Maybe now people would respect him, even though he had really done nothing…maybe he could even inspire himself to greater things in this army. But he highly doubted his own talents, especially after tonight.

With a sigh, Cloud went to sleep.

* * *

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

Some miles to the north, the moon shone down on a small ring of stones, like a campfire circle of giants. The scene would have been one of calm night beauty, until Urchyn McAvi stepped out into that moonlight, hands resting on the butt of his new Barrage 32-A laser carbine. He glanced once around the area, scanning it for the being that had agreed to meet him here, but he didn’t see anyone.

He had to resort to a glance at his short-range area scanner. It showed him there was a being standing within fifty feet of his current position, and that the being was holding some kind of old-fashioned crossbow weapon. The Wolvark nodded to himself; that fitted the description of the being he had arranged to meet.

McAvi folded his arms across his chest. “You can come out now.”

The shape that moved out of the darkness was quite an impressive one; at a height of seven Oddworld feet, a Steef was not a being people saw regularly, nor wished to. The huge Steef bounty hunter wore a suit of armor complete with silver streaks down the breastplate and a pair of twisted horns growing out the sides of the helmet. A small goatee edged his chin, and his dark eyes made him look grim.

“You called this…meeting,” the Steef said. “Now tell me…whaddaya want?”

“I want what we all want,” McAvi said with a shrug. “Moolah. And I’ve got a deal that lets both of us get a lot of moolah.”

Those dark eyes narrowed. “Well, let’s…hear it, then.”

The Wolvark waved a hand. “I’m sure you’ve heard of Abe.”

“The…Mudokon?”

“Yeah, that’s him.” McAvi grinned wide. “He’s got a bounty on his head: $15,000 dead, $30,000 alive, to be brought to Mantin City.”

“That’s…quite a lot of moolah,” the Steef said.

“It is,” McAvi agreed. “And that’s why I figured you might want a share in it. Say…fifty-fifty? All we have to do is catch the blue creep and bring him to the Glukkon rulers, and we live like kings for a couple weeks.”

The Steef folded his huge arms across his chest. “What makes you think I’d be…interested?”

The Wolvark laughed. “I know you, Stranger. You’re a bounty hunter, just like the rest of us.”

Stranger stood taller than before. “What if I’m…not a bounty hunter?”

“I know you better than you know yourself. You’re the one that captured guys like Blisterz Booty, Packrat Palooka, Meagly McGraw, and more. And if you joined up with the Grubbs, well, you had a personal vendetta going against Sekto anyway.” McAvi raised one brow. “Well?”

The Steef licked his lips, a gesture that McAvi found somewhat chilling. “I’m not the…bounty hunter I used to be. I’m something of a…people’s guy now.”

McAvi frowned. “People’s guy?”

“Yeah.” Stranger leaned forward. “You got a…problem with that?”

“No, not at all,” McAvi assured him.

“Well…” Stranger scratched his chin with a finger. “Gimme a day…to think about your offer. To…get acquainted with the idea of…partnering up.”

McAvi nodded. “Very well; one day. But tomorrow at midnight, I’ll expect your answer.”

The Steef nodded. “I’ll be here.”

* * *

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

King Glok walked slowly around the shape of the newly-built Snoozer, nodding slowly in approval. He admired the way the machine looked – its sleek cylindrical body, its three backward-bent legs, the rapid-fire stun gun hanging from its underside, the rotating laser rifle mounted atop the huge robot. It stood a full twelve feet high, much taller than any Glukkon or even BigBro Sligs, who were dwarfed by the huge machine.

“This looks good,” he remarked to Humphrey, who was standing nervously to one side. “Have you run tests on it?”

“The armor is excellent,” the Vykker stated. “We fired ten laser bolts at one point on the armor, and we hardly got a dent.”

“Its accuracy?”

Humphrey licked the edges of his mouth. “It, ah, uses an enhanced targeting system and personal scanner to aim for the, er, weakest point on a being’s body, and pacifying it quicker.”

Glok raised both brows. “That sounds interesting…but, of course, I’ll need a demonstration.”

He turned to one of his BigBro attendants. “You, bring me three Mudokon slaves.”

“Right away, sir!”

The Glukkon turned to Humphrey again. “From everything I’ve seen so far, this Snoozer looks as if it could be a good guard for my palace.”

Humphrey smiled – a disgusting expression on his thin face. “I’m sure it will be, my lord.”

Glok waited impatiently for the Slig to arrive with their test subjects. He was all too eager to get the Snoozer into action with this one simple field test. He had thousands of slaves, and Lord Fragg’s line from MeechCo were coming right into his grasp sometime today; why couldn’t he spare a few slaves from work duty and send them straight to their Nature’s Paradise?

He smiled as he saw the BigBro and three uneasy slaves returning down one of the laboratory’s side passages. Glok nodded his head toward the wall. “Line them up over there.”

As the Slig rapped out the orders to the slaves, Glok turned to the short Vykker at his side. “I assume this Snoozer will take orders from me alone?”

Humphrey frowned, but he nodded. “Yes, my lord.”

Glok smiled wider, and turned to the Snoozer. “Laser turret, fire on those Mudokons.”

Immediately the laser gun atop the Snoozer’s trash-can frame opened up in a blaze of laser energy. As Humphrey had said, its combat algorithms were targeting the Mudokons’ weakest points, their heads. It only took a single shot through the brain for each of the slaves to fall to the ground, and then the turret silenced.

Glok nodded, his smile growing wider still. “Excellent! Attendant, take this down: I want these mass-produced for the palace guard. Send all my BigBro Sligs to the barracks; they can rest or smoke or do whatever it is they do in their off-time.”

Humphrey said, “I take it you like the Snoozer.”

“It’s a good killing machine,” Glok said simply. “And we need more killing machines these days.”

* * *

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

Abe fell on his knees. “No…”

He bent his face into his hands, fingers clawing at his face as if he wanted to rip out his own eyes, a desire he felt more than ever, as if he hoped it would erase the image from his mind that was spread across Oddworld’s planty landscape – an image of pain and death that he knew he could not simply erase with pain.

“No. No. No…” He repeated the word over and over again, as if it could save him pain.

Behind him, he could hear one of the Mudokons – probably Ferg – trying valiantly not to be sick.

Footsteps moved up beside Abe, and he felt a hand on his shoulder. “This is not an easy thing for anyone to bear,” Jake said, even his voice trembling. “I don’t know how this was done.”

Abe opened his eyes again, but the scene was the same.

The entire Mudokon slave line lay dead on the ground, still with their hands tied behind their backs. Hundreds of Slig guards lay piled around them, guns still in their hands. Dried blood was all over the bodies, red and ugly. It looked as if someone had just come in and stabbed every single person repeatedly.

Abe knew there was only one being who could have done this so efficiently: the Bringer of Pain.

A wave of despair rolled up his body from his heart. He had failed again. All in a few days, he had failed his people again and again, resulting in the deaths of dozens of innocent beings. And this pain could be traced back through the Bringer of Pain to the one who had started this whole blasted thing: the Glukkon businessman Lord Fragg.

He closed his eyes again. “No, this can’t be happening.”

He almost expected to hear a voice saying “Abe, wake up, you’ve had a bad dream…” but all he got was Jake.

The old shaman sighed. “Abe, this is real. You can’t change what happened here; you can only avenge it.”

“Yeah.” Abe stood up again, clenching his fists. “You can count on me; I’m going to avenge their deaths.”

“By destroying Lord Fragg?” Jake guessed accurately.

Abe didn’t feel a need to answer. Instead, he turned in the direction from which they’d come, toward Fragg and his Slig army. He’d had the chance to kill Fragg earlier, but he’d passed up in favor of freeing the slaves first, and despite his best efforts, they’d been killed.

Now it was time to pay back that rotten Glukkon, in full.

“Abe – there’s a note over here!” Grunn called out.

Abe growled under his breath, but he turned and hurried toward his friend, pretending to be concerned about the stupid note. “What is it?”

Grunn held out the note, and Abe took it. He recognized the handwriting instantly, because it was again written in blood.

The Bringer of Pain will stop these killings if Abe kills the Glukkon leader, King Glok. Then I will reveal myself, and we can fight head-to-head.

Abe lowered the note, and his eyes narrowed. “He wants me to kill King Glok?” he spat. “Then I’ll kill King Glok!”

“Isn’t that a stupid idea?” Alf remarked, and Abe whirled around to face him.

“Say that again,” Abe growled.

Alf cowered behind Jake, covering his head with his hands. “Hey-hey-hey! Don’t hit me! I was just thinking, Why should we trust our enemy’s word? You’re playing right into his hands!”

“We don’t have much of a choice,” Abe said. “We have to trust him, and we get rid of a nuisance.”

Jake put that restraining hand on his shoulder again. “I understand, Abe. We set out for Mantin City immediately.”

* * *

[STM]

I have a cetain amount of sympathy for fragg, I'm thinking humphrey wrote the note? u dont hav 2 answer

and oh noes for the mudokons

[Lord Stanley]

This is actually a note from the Bringer of Pain. Humphrey doesn't know about the murderer, he's too busy in Mantin City. New chapters coming soon...

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

Urchyn McAvi was awakened from slumber by the ringing of his comlink. Coming to his senses immediately, he unhooked the device from his belt and spoke into it. “What?”

The voice on the other end was thick and deep: Stranger’s voice. “This is the Steef. I’m in.”

McAvi smiled. “Good. I’ll meet you at the clearing immediately.”

* * *

Cloud stumbled along in the wilderness of No-Muds-Land, alone and tired from his daring escape.

Escape, he called it? No, it was more a desertion from duty than escape. Or was he really being loyal to the higher authorities by what he was doing? No, that didn’t sound quite right.

But what sounded better – that he was a coward, running away from the perils of Lord Fragg’s camp, which was what he really was? That didn’t make him feel any better, and he needed to be in high spirits to complete the mission with which he had tasked himself.

“How…could Lord Fragg…even think of doing…such a thing?” he wheezed. “Murdering the king?”

He had a hard time convincing himself that was what he had really heard. He’d been wandering up to the Glukkon’s tent earlier that morning, trying to work up his courage to apologize for his exaggerated fireside stories, but before being allowed entrance, he’d accidentally overheard Fragg talking to one of the Sligs about overthrowing King Glok, and being the heads of the Glukkon nation.

How could Fragg do that? Why? Cloud didn’t know these answers, but his little Slig brain had figured out this was not only his best chance to get away from Abe’s maniac attacks, but also a way to win favor with King Glok when he warned the Glukkon king of Fragg’s treachery.

The Slig shook his head, and kept running. He had to warn Glok in time…or he’d probably get caught, either by Fragg or Abe, and destroyed either way.

* * *

[Hulaabeo]

I hate that nasty "Bringer of Pain", and how the hell would he be able to kill the whole without a scratch!? I hope he dies the most painful death there is because of all those murdered natives!

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

“A deserter in the ranks?” Fragg shook his head, folding his hands behind his back. “That’s not good. Have you sent out search parties?”

The Slig nodded. “We followed his tracks for about a mile before they disappeared; we have three parties scanning the area, but we haven’t been able to find him.”

Fragg narrowed his eyes. “And your area scanners pick up nothing?”

“Nothing but nearby Sleg nests, sir.”

The Glukkon growled angrily. “We can’t have deserters running away every night.”

“Yes, sir.”

Fragg narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

“No, sir.”

He raised one arm, as if to strike his rather dull minion. “Then shut up and leave, idiot!”

“Yes, sir!” The Slig hurried away to join some of his comrades nearby.

Fragg turned so he could see most of the Sligs in his army, raising both hands to the sky. “Continue the march – we make for Mantin City!”

The Sligs glanced at one another and muttered quietly to each other, but they began walking northeast, back toward the Glukkon capital where they had started from at the beginning of their quest for Abe, a quest which had seemingly come to nothing in the end. Fragg headed in the same direction, a scowl fixed on his face, and a useless comlink on his belt. He had tried to send more transmissions, but Abe’s signal-jamming site was still close enough to deny him any calls.

He had no idea how a Mudokon – beings who were usually not smart enough to get out of the path of an oncoming meat saw – could deal out so much death and destruction to so many people, in protection of nature. To Fragg, nature was just resources growing out of the ground, things he could use to further his path to power, things to make more and more moolah. But to all those idiotic Mudokons, nature actually seemed to be something worth protecting.

Fragg didn’t really understand why they loved nature so much. Mudokons were constantly trying to activate their ancient Storm Circles to clean the polluted water, grow more spooce, trees, and grass, make more natural habitats for the creatures of Oddworld to live in. It seemed like a waste of their time, because the Mudokons were fairly stupid and hardly knew what to do with all the ravenous carnivores they thought were worth protecting, and were more often than not killed in animal attacks.

This ridiculous war had been going on for untold centuries, even millennia, as far back as the Mudokons’ Ninth Chieftain and the Old Kingdom. Even in those days, Glukkons and their Slig attendants had fought to enslave the idiotic nature-loving Mudokons, and bring pollution all across Oddworld in the pursuit of moolah. Fragg doubted he would ever understand why this always happened.

But now, it was time he actually did something that would promote the great cause of industry.

He had something in mind: killing King Glok. The anti-cigar Glukkon was the worst thing that had ever happened to the lungbuster industry – besides the time Abe and his Marching Mudokons had taken the entire tobacco fields hostage – and Fragg didn’t intend to be one to drive any kind of industry into the ground.

Instead, he would be one who built up the industries, gave more tax dollars to the cigar companies, the animal processors, and all the other Glukkons who were dominating the public market. It was also apparent he needed to donate to whoever trained Sligs for a living.

The only problem with his plan would be that he was no real warrior, or an expert murderer. He wouldn’t be able to do the dastardly deed himself, but hiring an assassin wouldn’t be so hard to do; there seemed to be an endless amount of Wolvarks and Outlaws who wanted to be bounty hunters, even a few Sligs who had gone rogue. He would have to get rid of King Glok, so he could become king of Glukksonia and take over from the unlucky Margaret line.

And then…

A smile crossed his face. Once he was king, Glukksonia would be the biggest and most powerful nation on the face of Oddworld. He would have factories bigger than RuptureFarms, dams bigger than Sekto Springs, towns bigger than Mantin City, more slaves than anyone knew what to do with…

But that would all come after he killed Glok. Resuming his frown, Fragg set his mind to marching.

* * *

[STM]

cool, i'm going ot have ot set aside half an hour on friday to get completley up t odate

[Q-Ball]

I love how you'd wrote it! You're really great writer.
"No-Muds-Land"

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

The Bringer of Pain looked curiously at the gates of Mantin City, his eyes narrowed as he stared about him.

The decorations were certainly different than the last time he had seen the industrialist capital. Instead of the usual arrays of BigBro Sligs standing at all the corners, wielding their fearsome Donner Packer rifles, there were a lot of Snoozers patrolling around, their bent tripod legs lurching them around, their machine gun swiveling around nastily.

Snoozers brought back painful memories to the Bringer of Pain – what an ironic thing, pain to the one who brought it – but he did not find pain as an annoyance. He reveled in pain, particularly in others.

Still, Snoozers could be a problem. Sligs were easy to slip past because they were normally dull – despite their enhanced audio receptors – while robots were always attentive and could not be bribed or distracted from their tasks, and their sophistocated combat algorithms could be sporadically updated whenever a new strategy was implemented, and they could learn from their previous mistakes – if they ever made any.

The Bringer of Pain shook his head, and crept toward the doors.

* * *

Urchyn McAvi kept a close eye on the Stranger as they walked along. He had heard many rumors about the huge Steef – most of them good – and there had been enough bad rumors to make him wonder about Stranger’s goals. He didn’t doubt the Steef’s power; there was nothing to doubt about the huge muscles and the armed double-barreled crossbow the Steef held, but motives were something else.

According to rumor, the bounty hunter had been betrayed and had almost been killed by a client, apparently the great Sekto of Sekto Springs, and in a daring escape Stranger had changed his outlook on life. Apparently, the Steef had then helped Sekto’s enemies, leading a raid on the dam that had resulted in the complete devastation of the dam and several Clakker towns in the canyons. Stranger himself had killed the great water company leader in a fit of rage.

That was more than enough to make McAvi doubtful. A bounty hunter who would help his client’s enemies, just to get revenge, and end up causing so much damage, was very dangerous.

The Wolvark folded his arms across his chest as they walked across No Muds Land. “What are you going to do with it?”

Stranger turned, giving him a glance that would freeze any being with a conscience – which did not include McAvi. “Do…with what?”

“With the moolah.” McAvi shrugged. “Once we’ve captured Abe and collected the reward.”

“Well, let’s…keep quiet for now,” Stranger said. “After all, we have to…actually catch the guy…before we start thinking…that far ahead.”

“True.” McAvi turned his face away and kept walking.

* * *

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER FIFTY

Abe kept all the Mudokons’ comments at a minimum as they crossed the industrialist land known as Glukksonia. The land was immediately known to belong to the Glukkons because of the pollution in the air, the taint in the water, the dry ground. It was such a pitiful sight when compared with the beauty of the Mudokons’ land.

Imagine what we could do if we had a few Storm Circles here, Abe thought grimly.

The landscape was so bleak and barren, he might almost have kept his eyes closed the whole time, if he had not been on the constant lookout for Sigs or Glukkons patrolling near the many towns and factories. Since they were in the heart of industrialist territory, probably only another day’s march from the capital, they would always have to be alert for any enemies that could be a threat…namely, all of them.

He glanced at the power pack on his Barrage 32-A laser carbine. Though not as impressive as the Snuzi, it had much more ammo and was probably even more powerful. It actually felt good to wield a weapon, after so many years of just going in with possession and his slow thinking.

Alf walked up beside him, a concerned expression on his face. “Abe…”

The hero rounded on him. “What?”

“Uh…” Alf chewed at his lip anxiously. “Ferg’s gone.”

Abe’s eyes widened. “Gone? Gone where?”

“I don’t know.” Alf sighed. “Someone must have done something very recently.”

Abe turned and glanced around the land, but he couldn’t see anything at first look. “There aren’t many places anyone can hide – someone must have dropped him.”

Alf cocked his head. “You mean, like…knocked him out?”

Abe grabbed Alf’s shoulder and hurled him roughly to the ground. Before the other Mudokon could even finish saying “What the –” Abe had joined him on the ground, and a charged Zappfly pinged off the ground only two feet above their bowed heads.

Abe let go of Alf and rolled sideways, raising his laser weapon toward the direction the Zappfly had come from. At the sight of the creature standing right there – even in the split second that he was allowed – he felt a quick flash of shock.

It was a Steef.

Then the other barrel of the huge crossbow fired, and Abe didn’t have time to duck the black-and-white striped critter that came flying out the end of the weapon. A Stunk! he realized, instants before said creature raised its fluffy tail and released a green cloud of gas into the air.

The smell was even worse than Elums’ stench, and he didn’t even have time to clutch at his bowels before he was puking wildly. His stomach wrenched and heaved from the extremely potent Stunk odor percolating through the air –

And then a second charged Zappfly caught him in the head, and everything turned to blackness…

* * *

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

The Slig Army was definitely not as happy as it had been when it marched out of Mantin City, that was for sure. Fragg could not see one happy gleam in any eye as he led his mechanical-pants-equipped legions across the dirt and mud of No Muds Land, his fists methodically clenching and opening with one purpose.

He hated Abe. In that one thought, he could sum up all he had thought for the whole morning.

Lord Fragg felt a quick flash of hope as he saw the indicator light on his comlink go from red to green – that meant Abe’s signal-jamming had gone offline! Now he could call for help if he ever felt the need!

His hope turned to surprise, when the device in his hand bleeped with the sound of an incoming call. Irritably he flicked it on. “This is Lord Fragg.”

“And this is Urchyn McAvi, the Wolvark bounty hunter you saw back at the canyon a few days ago.”

Fragg remembered the Wolvark with a flash of annoyance. Why had his Sligs not opened fire and mowed down McAvi and Abe at the same time? “I remember you,” he said. “What do you want?”

“I want you to stay away from me.”

Fragg frowned down at his comlink. “What?’

“I’ve done something that you and your idiotic Sligs could never hope to do: I’ve captured Abe.”

Fragg’s eyes grew wide. “What?”

“I know you can hear me, Fragg. And I’m not lying; I’ve got the blue-headed guy right here. He’s holding a Slig-model Barrage 32-A laser carbine…couple scars on his face…”

“I get the point,” the Glukkon snapped. “And why do you think I would just let you walk away with my prize?”

A chuckle floated up out of the comlink. “It’s not your prize any longer, Glukkon. Wait till King Glok finds out you’re so incompetent.”

The message ended with a sharp CLICK.

Fragg swore, loud enough that several of the Sligs chuckled. But those chuckles ceased when the Glukkon shouted, “Come on! Doubletime! We have to get to Mantin City, now!”

* * *

[STM]

I liek the name Mantin don't know why, it's a good name!

[Lord Stanley]

I just thought it up on the spot. I never thought, when I was writing this book, that I'd get reviews on the name of a town I invented...

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

“And why should I believe you?” King Glok snorted.

The Bringer of Pain laughed aloud. How could this high-pitched Glukkon ruler be so foolish as to think that he, the embodiment and great servant of Darkness, could be spoken to in such an insolent manner? It would take a demonstration…

“I’m sure you don’t want any of your Snoozers destroyed,” he said.

Glok snorted airily. “Oh? And who’s going to destroy them? Certainly not you.”

The Bringer of Pain shrugged his thin shoulders. “You might be surprised at what I can pull off.”

“There aren’t many things that can surprise me.”

“I am one of those happy few, then,” the Bringer of Pain said with a smile. “Do you require a demonstration of my power?”

Glok leaned forward menacingly in his throne. “You try to pull anything,” he hissed between his teeth, “and I’ll order my Snoozers to open fire.”

“Once I’ve ‘pulled something,’ as you say, you won’t even have Snoozers.”

His words seemed to have some effect on the Glukkon king. Glok’s frown changed to an expression of curiosity. “Tell me why you’re here, then.”

The Bringer of Pain’s smile grew wider; finally he was getting somewhere. “I came to warn you of an attack on your life.”

“An attack?” Glok’s eyes went quite wide. Glukkons were notorious for being paranoid about attacks on their life – the Bringer of Pain had made a few attempts on them himself. “What kind of attack?”

“The kind that involves killing.”

The Glukkon narrowed his beady eyes. “And how would you know of such an attack?”

“I know Abe a lot better than most do; he’s going to kill you.”

“Kill me?” One of Glok’s brows twisted in what the Bringer of Pain knew to be a gesture of disbelief. “And how, pray tell, do you expect a Mudokon to get through my Snoozer army?”

“He will find a way.” The Bringer of Pain chuckled flatly. “And if you don’t believe me…”

He turned and raised one hand, as if in benediction. The Glukkon instinctively shouted “Snoozer units! Open fire!” but before he could even finish shouting that, three lightning bolts blasted out of the Bringer of Pain’s palm, each flying toward separate Snoozers set up in the corners of the room. Before the robotic units could complete their manual turret swivel toward him, those lightning bolts had struck at maximum velocity, and turned the fearsome machines to nothing but piles of smoking scrap.

The Bringer of Pain lowered his hand, still smiling. “That could have been you. But because I have some genuine concern for you, believe me. Abe is coming.”

He turned and moved out of the room, leaving the Glukkon king open-mouthed and gaping at the Snoozer scraps.

As he was “escorted” out of the throne room by a pair of Worker-class Sligs, he kept his dark smile on his face the whole while. That meeting had gone fairly well – not only had he planted a false assumption in Glok’s paranoid Glukkon mind, he had also showed off just how powerful he could be even when he wasn’t upset.

Sometimes he surprised even himself at his own displays of power.

But he knew the Dark wasn’t surprised by anything he did, because it was the Dark that controlled him. Nothing could come as a surprise to the Dark because the Dark was the way of everything.

He shook his head. How could Abe be so foolish?

In fact, how could all Mudokons be so foolish? All of them chose to remain in the lie that the goodness of nature could be perfect, believing that some Hand of Odd guided everything?

The Bringer of Pain knew better. The Dark was everything, and everything was the Dark. The two were one.

He could hardly wait until the final showdown with Abe; then he could prove to all Oddworld that the Dark was everything. That there was no light to be found anywhere.

That he was the Dark, and the Dark was the master.

His chuckle turned to a triumphant laugh of dark glee.

* * *

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

In his long and danger-filled life, the creature known as Stranger had seen many things. He had fought with hundreds of Outlaws, battled fiercely against hundreds of Wolvarks, with either Clakkerz or Grubbs as his allies, with double-barreled crossbow in hand. He had seen beings go insane, and he had nearly gone insane himself from all the sometimes gory violence he had contributed to Oddworld. He had watched creatures fall from cliffs, drown, puke their bowels out, fall onto beds of spikes, get ground up by viciously indiscriminating meat grinders and fan blades, and so many other ways he could not count.

But he had never expected, in all those experiences, that he would ever get the chance to meet – and fight, and capture – the famous Mudokon Freedom Fighter known as Abe.

Now, as he sat on the cold, hard ground of Glukksonia across from Urchyn McAvi – who was, ironically, a Wolvark – with his enormous crossbow at his side and hat tipped down over his eyes, he stared down at the stunned forms of the five Mudokons he and McAvi had collected. Abe, recognizable by his blue skin and strangely orange eyes, along with a collection of totally un-Mudokon battle scars and some totally Mudokon tattoos, lay there in a crumpled heap with both big hands wrapped around his head where that last Zappfly had struck him.

How could one Mudokon get such a big reputation? he wondered. All that’s different about him is his skin…

That was when he realized a profound truth: there are a lot more differences than just the color of beings’ skin. Hearts and minds are all different, preferences are different…

He glanced darkly at McAvi. Even their evil rates were different.

“Tomorrow,” Stranger said, “we go doubletime…for Mantin City. I don’t want this…Mudokon on hand…any longer than I…have to.”

McAvi snorted. “What, is the great Stranger scared?”

“No,” the Steef growled. “just…cautious. And so should you. After all…this is Abe we’re talking about….You know his reputation.”

“Reputations aren’t the real thing,” the Wolvark reminded sourly. “And we bounty hunters are tougher than Glukkons and their wimpy Sligs.”

Stranger shrugged his huge shoulders. “I know….But there’s no harm…in being cautious.”

Deciding to end the conversation there, he leaned up against a rock. He and McAvi both knew they wouldn’t be getting any sleep that night, nor as long as they stayed together. No bounty hunter was worthy of trust, not even their own; as long as they stayed together, they were at risk of knifing each other in their sleep.

Stranger smiled coolly. This was the way of life he knew best. Maybe he’d go back to the Grubbs someday…but for now, this was the life he led.

* * *

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

Cloud the Slig stumbled into a dusty town somewhere at the border of Glukksonia. Not only was his throat parched from lack of water, his energy packs were getting depleted from all his stumbling; so far, his infrared visor was still working, but the power in his mechanical pants was going down by the minute.

Thus, he was mad with pleasure as soon as he saw the gathering of square industrialist buildings, and smelled the wonderful aroma of smog filling the air, because that meant there would be outlets where he could recharge, and an airship he could take to Mantin City, to warn Glok of Fragg's treachery!

The Slig scanned the other Sligs and Glukkons weaving in and around the buildings on their daily routines. “Water!” he screeched hoarsely, injuring his throat with every syllable. “Water!”

The village’s inhabitants turned and looked up at him, seemingly surprised that he would even dare to come in looking that way. “Whatcha want here?” one Slig asked.

“WATER!” Cloud practically screamed at them.

The Slig pointed to a nearby house. “There’s a spigot over –”

Cloud didn’t wait to listen to the rest of the sentence. Instead, he hurried to the spigot, which was dripping softly, his tentacles going wide with joy. He threw himself flat under the spigot, twisting the handle to pour life-giving water into the tips of his tentacles, which immediately absorbed the water and sent its moisture to the parts of his body that needed it most.

He could tell, out of the corner of his visor, that the other Sligs and Glukkon townspeople were staring at him kinda funny, but he ignored them. He kept his full concentration on getting this sweet-tasting water. It felt better now than it ever had before.

Once he’d drank his fill – which took some time, since he was so parched – he pushed himself roughly to his feet. He glanced from one Slig to another, looking for one that seemed friendly. “You people got an airship in town?”

The Slig he had spoken to cocked his head on one side. “Are you injured, boy? Taken any head wounds lately?”

Cloud felt perplexed. “What do you mean by that?”

“You act…a little strange.” The Slig folded his arms across his chest. “An’ where’s yer boss?”

Cloud grinned. “You know my boss?”

“No, I’m askin’ where he is.”

“He’s, uh…” Cloud indicated the direction from which he’d come. “He’s over that way. Why do you ask that?”

The Slig narrowed his eyes. “If you don’t even know where your boss is, you have to be a rogue Slig.” He slid a small pistol out of a holster that Cloud hadn’t even noticed. “And we don’t like rogue Sligs here in Bodhran.”

* * *

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

Stranger could remember better than most beings on Oddworld, especially better than the always-forgetful Mudokons. He could remember every one of those last bounties – Blisterz Booty, Filthy Hands Floyd, the Looten Duke, and many others – but none had left such an impression in him as the time he had crossed trails with bounty hunter D. Caste Raider.

The thought of Raider made him grit his teeth.

Not only had the big, tough outlaw stripped him of much of his gear, Raider had discovered his Steef identity, ruining Stranger’s bounty hunter career, and then had ordered his “boys” to skin Stranger alive to collect the bounty from Sekto. Then the Grubbs had set him free, and he had started his great vendetta against Sekto.

He sighed. That had been a long time ago. Not many people had come to him for bounties since that encounter…and it was all D. Caste Raider’s fault in the end. If he had just told Sekto to shut up, and ignored the bounty…

But would Stranger himself have done anything better? Would the Steef have rejected such a prospect - $20,000? No, he knew, but that didn’t excuse Raider for his crimes. Stranger had never cared that much about the process of right and wrong, since it was so complicated, but in the end, he had to say what Raider had done was wrong.

It was wrong because it had been done to him. If it had been done to Raider, it would be perfectly acceptable to Stranger.

He decided that, after they turned Abe in for the bounty, and he had his cash, he was going to go back to Raider’s hideout. He had left the Outlaw on fire; he didn’t know if his enemy had been killed by the explosions in the building, or if the wily bruiser had managed to get away.

The Steef clenched his fists and jaw; if Raider had escaped, it wouldn’t be so any longer.

* * *

Sorry, short chapter I know.

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

Abe blinked his eyes open…and he groaned.

“What hit me?” he said, even before he could make sense of the blur that was the world.

“I shot you...with a Zappfly,” a guttural voice said from somewhere beside him. Beside him and under.

That was when Abe noticed the world was bouncing. That explained why he felt so dizzy…but why did he feel so dizzy? Why was the world bouncing under him?

Then the world went back into full clarity, and he realized that whoever had answered his question was also carrying him, strewn across his shoulder, and that this being was moving at a fair clip across cracked, dry ground. The air smelled faintly of smog.

So that Steef that had shot him was carrying him across Glukksonia, most likely to collect whatever bounty the Glukkons had placed on his head. In all his adventures, Abe had been captured many times, but he couldn’t recall the last time it had happened. The encounter with Molluck back in RuptureFarms he remembered as if it had just happened yesterday, but the others just seemed to run together…

“Where are you taking me?” he asked.

“Mantin City, to…King Glok.”

He licked the edges of his mouth. “Why?”

“There’s…a lot of moolah…on your head, Mudokon,” the Steef replied. “And I aim…to get plenty of it.”

Abe’s frown deepened. He didn’t feel strong enough to get out of this Steef’s iron grip, nor did he intend to meet his end by being thrown into a cell in Mantin City. He wanted to get to Mantin City to destroy Glok, but not imprisoned and then executed. He would have to be patient.

He glanced down the Steef’s back, at the faded poncho the bounty hunter was wearing. There was a large bag hanging behind his waist, and Abe could hear small animalistic squeaks coming from the bag. The hunter had said Zappflies…that meant this was one of those natural-critter-using guys. That meant there might be Fuzzles…

The thought of setting Fuzzles on the Steef and then running for the hills seemed like a good idea. He slowly began moving his hand, slowly enough that the Steef wouldn’t notice, down toward the ammo bag.

At the sound of a second set of footsteps close behind him, Abe looked over his shoulder. He was surprised to see the same Wolvark bounty hunter that had attacked him at the gorge only a few feet away from his face.

“How do you like the life of a prisoner?” the gruff Wolvark laughed.

Abe gritted his teeth. “What have you done with my friends, beast?”

The bounty hunter shrugged. “Dumped ’em whenever we picked you up. I don’t need them; there was no bounty on ’em.”

Abe spat distastefully. “I’ll escape, Wolvark. And when I do, I’m going to blow your brains out…and laugh about it.”

“I don’t think so.” The Wolvark shook his head, and curled one hand into a fist. Before Abe could even say Uh-oh, that fist had smacked him in the face and sent him back into the realm of unconsciousness.

* * *

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

Cloud would have raised both his eyebrows, if he’d only had eyebrows. As it was, he had to settle for a disbelieving gape. “You…you think I’m a rogue?” he spluttered.

The Slig chuckled darkly. “What else would you be – you’re dusty, dirty, and you have a hard time rememberin’ where yer boss is. That means you gotta be a rogue.”

He clicked back the cock on his pistol. “Now put yer hands on top of yer head.”

Cloud sighed, but he complied. He could see other Sligs drawing similar pistols from holsters all over their bodies, and he instinctively knew getting out of this one would not be easy. Why did they all have to ignore him, when he was in a hurry to get to the capital? If King Glok was killed because he took to long with the warning…

“Hey, look,” he protested, as a Slig came forward with a pair of handcuffs. “I may not be the fastest thinker on Oddworld –”

“If you was a faster thinker,” one fellow growled, “you would’ve stayed outta our town.”

“Yeah,” Cloud growled. “I would have.”

The one with the cuffs clicked them around his wrists. The deserter flinched at the cold feel of the restraining metal; he’d never been convicted of a crime before, except for the occasional “stupidity badge.” Why did his luck have to go against him now?

“You can look at my Info Pad,” he sighed. “I’m Cloud, Designation Worker-Class-Slig-No. 3221.”

The first Slig he had spoken to tipped his head sideways. “Really?”

“Yeah, look me over.”

The one Slig – who seemed to be someone of importance in Bodhran – gave a little wave to the one who had just cuffed Cloud. “Hey, Frizzl, check him over.”

“Right away, Crak.”

Cloud stayed still and patient as Frizzl ran his hands around his body. The search turned up Cloud’s extra pocket comlink, his Info Pad, area scanner, and a fragmentation grenade he had been saving just in case they got into a tight situation.

Crak came walking over, his beady eyes narrowed. “Whatcha find, Frizzl?”

The one who had inspected Cloud was too busy punching commands into the Info Pad to reply, but a moment later he grunted. “Huh…this pad says he really is a soldier.”

“Here, gimme that.” Without waiting for Frizzl to comply, Crak snatched the Info Pad and glared down at the screen. Cloud watched patiently, waiting for the rough Slig leader to finish his examination.

After a minute, Crak powered down the Info Pad and passed it back to Frizzl. “Hmm. Looks as if we have a deserter on our hands.”

Cloud suddenly felt a whole lot worse. “Deserter?” he gasped, pretending to be surprised. He’d forgotten all about the implications of being a deserter in the Slig Army. “Why do you think that?”

Crak indicated the Info Pad. “If you really are a soldier, you’re out here without yer boss, Lord Fragg, an’ there’s no assignments written down in yer pad. A good soldier always writes down his assignments for the record.”

The gruff Slig suddenly brought his pistol back up from wherever he’d been hiding it. “An’, as you know, we don’t like deserters. We shoot ’em.”

Crak smiled. “Frizzl, get together the firin’ squad. Time to teach some o’ the boys a lesson about loyalty to one’s cause.”

Cloud found he couldn’t even swallow, and his throat was too dry to say “Oops…” Instead, he just bowed his head. At least it really wasn’t his fault he had failed King Glok.

* * *

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

Humphrey III watched King Glok through shaded eyes. The Glukkon King had begun to act strangely of late, ever since that strange creature had come to Mantin City with his warning of Abe’s imminent attack. The king was in a state that could only be labeled “paranoid,” and it didn’t help Humphrey’s trust for the non-smoking Glukkon.

Why should they trust that strange thing that called himself the Bringer of Pain? Who would find the need to trust him – even if he could fire lightning bolts that would turn Snoozers to scrap? After the Bringer of Pain left, they could just go about their normal business, and trust to the rest of their Snoozers to handle Abe!

But that wasn’t enough for Glok, not now that he was paranoid. Humphrey sighed. The Glukkon was bringing back all the BigBros he had sent away to the barracks, returning them to the city to patrol the streets. Glok was always ordering more and more Snoozers off the assembly lines to be posted in his palace, at every corner.

The Vykker shook his head. “Bringing the BigBros back won’t raise his popularity any…and the Snoozers are a bad idea for his health.”

Humphrey smiled, a sight that revolted most of the people around him. In themselves, the Snoozers were a massive addition to the firepower in and around Glok’s palace, because, unlike Sligs, they could not be distracted and had a much longer attention span, and had extra sensors. Their guns were not as powerful, but they tended to be more accurate due to computer tracking.

But with one untrustworthy Vykker – himself – in the mixture, Snoozers weren’t the best thing Glok could have brought into the palace.

Humphrey barely kept himself from sniggering, as he moved toward the throne room doors. They swung open as he neared them, and he boldly moved his way into Glok’s throne room.

Instead of just the three Snoozers, Glok now had ten Snoozers – three in each corner and one patrolling the floor. The Glukkon himself was about on the floor, pacing about with a nervous look on his face.

At Humphrey’s approach, the king turned. “Have the sensors picked up anything resembling Abe?”

The Vykker shook his head. “No, sire…and have you considered taking a stress pill?”

“I’ve taken three in the last twenty minutes,” Glok growled. “And so far, they haven’t helped.”

“Give them time –”

The Glukkon cut him off angrily. “We don’t have any time, Humphrey! If Abe decides to attack –”

Humphrey raised all four of his arms in a placating gesture. “Your majesty, you have more than enough Snoozers to take down any Mudokon that gets past your hundreds of BigBros outside. You’re the best-defended Glukkon on Oddworld right now.”

Glok’s brow tightened. “What do you mean, right now? I’ll always be the best-defended Glukkon on Oddworld!”

“Perhaps…” The Vykker scratched his chin. “But I think I have better defenses than you.”

Glok shook his head slowly. “Explain.”

Humphrey shook his head. “Do I even have to?”

He suddenly spun around. “Snoozers! Take out the cameras!”

Before the Glukkon had time to shout a countercommand, the robots spun their guns around and fired, taking out all the security cameras in the room. Humphrey pointed at Glok. “Neutrali –”

The Glukkon gasped with horror. “But I thought they were my servants!”

Humphrey chuckled darkly. “You should have known better than to let me build the originals.”

He turned away, calmly ordering, “Neutralize him.”

Three Snoozer shots burned through the air, and through Glok’s brain. The Vykker didn’t even turn to watch the ruler of Glukksonia’s body hit the ground; the thud was enough confirmation for him.

He smiled brightly. “Long live the king.”

* * *

Lesson: Never Trust a Vykker

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

When Alf opened his eyes, he knew something was wrong. Something had to be – the last thing he remembered of the world was getting hit in the head by something hard and electric, and that was after they had been ambushed out of nowhere by a Steef!

His uncomfortable feeling didn’t get any better when he realized he was lying on top of Lowrn, Grunn, and Ferg, all three of which were still out.

Seconds later, Alf’s pain sense returned to him, and he could feel the lump on the side of his head where one of the Steef’s animal shots had knocked him out a couple hours ago. A glance at the pale sun’s position in the sky confirmed that he had been unconscious for at least one whole night.

Forcing his sore muscles to move, Alf rolled off his three companions and stood up. He dusted off his shorts, popped the cricks out of his back with one enormous stretch, then he reached out with a foot and kicked Grunn.

“C’mon!” he grunted. “No time to lay around!”

Grunn just yawned and returned to his slumber. Lowrn and Ferg, at the bottom of the stack, both came awake together and roughly tossed Grunn off; when he hit the ground, he came awake.

“Hey!” the Mudokon shouted. “What was that for?”

“Get up,” Alf snapped. “That Steef that attacked us – he took Abe with him when he ran.”

Ferg laughed. “That’s ridiculous. Nobody can capture Abe.”

Lowrn said quietly, “Well, apparently that Steef did. What are we going to do about it?”

Ferg grimaced. “I dunno, uh, panic?”

Alf smacked him roughly upside the head. “No, you idiot! We’re going to go after him!”

“How do you think we can follow him?” Grunn demanded, pushing himself up to his feet.

Alf bit his mouth. “I…uh…don’t know…”

Lowrn raised a hand. “Idea, here.”

Alf nodded. “Any idea would be good about now.”

The Mudokon pointed to the clear set of imprinted bootprints leading across the cracked ground of Glukksonia. “How about we follow those?”

Alf laughed. “Lowrn, that’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.”

* * *

[Lord Stanley]

Attention: I would like comments. Is there anything anyone would like to suggest? I come up with these ideas whenever I feel like writing, so if you want something new to happen, I will gladly take your idea into consideration. I sorta feel like I'm writing for my own benefit here.

[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER SIXTY

Cloud’s hand automatically went down for his gun – and that was when he realized it was missing. He glanced around, and noticed a relatively shiny Barrage 32-A laser carbine that was in one Slig’s hands, most likely Cloud’s.

He went into a duck-and-roll, which was awkward due to the handcuffs still around his wrists. “All I want to do is tell King Glok that Lord Fragg intends to betray him!”

Crak frowned. “What?”

“My boss, Lord Fragg – he wants to invade Mantin City and kill Glok!”

Crak lowered his gun. “I don’t know about that…” He gestured at Cloud. “Frizzl, cover him. I’ll go comm. Mantin City.”

Cloud swallowed hard. He hoped Abe was far enough away that the signal-jamming wouldn’t affect the Bodhran communicators, and he also hoped that these Sligs would listen to him, and that they wouldn’t execute him on false charges.

As Frizzl moved over beside him, holding an old-model Blitz Packer gun, the soldier listened intently to the sounds coming out of the nearby comm. center.

“Yeah, this is Crak in Bodhran,” Crak was saying. “What? Yeah, o’ course it’s important.”

A pause.

Crak went on, “Uh, we got a Slig in town…says he’s from Lord Fragg’s army, but we don’t know any Lord Fragg and we don’t know any army –”

Another pause.

“You don’t say…well, I’ll put him on the line. He says he’s got a message for King Glok, top-importance.”

Cloud breathed out a sigh. At least, if he died, he would still have been able to send his message to Mantin City. Then it would be up to Crak to decide what happened to him.

Crak leaned his head out of the communications building. “Hey, soldier, get in here.”

Cloud took a deep breath, and moved forward into the building. He tried to glance around, but before he could even tell whether the ceiling lights were round or rectangular, Crak grabbed him by the pack of the neck and pointed to the comm. device.

“Talk into that,” Crak ordered roughly. “I’ve got Mantin City online.”

Cloud gulped once, and leaned in close to the speaker. “Uh, hey, this is Cloud…”

“Cloud who?”

The soldier frowned. “Worker-Class Slig Designation Number 3221.”

“Lemme see…ah…hold on for a second…”

Cloud fiddled with his hands, wishing he weren’t standing in the middle of nowhere with his hands cuffed.

“Okay, I gotcha. Whatcha callin’ for?”

“I have an urgent message for King Glok –”

“Sorry, but he was assassinated a few minutes ago. If you have anything else to say, call back later. ‘Bye.”

There was a sharp CLICK from the speaker, and Cloud just stood there, staring in disbelief at the machine.

“King Glok,” he whispered. “Dead?”

“This is a dark day for the empire,” Crak growled roughly.

* * *

“I have no idea how the king died,” Humphrey said, toning his high-pitched voice to sound horrified at the death of the Glukkon leader. “I came into the throne room…and he was dead!”

“You’ve said that several times,” the Glukkon advisor grunted.

Humphrey folded all four arms across his chest. “Well, you obviously don’t believe me.”

The Glukkon shrugged. “I believe you…but who’s going to be king now?” A smile appeared on his face. “Me?”

Humphrey shook his head. “No, I have a better idea.”

“You aren’t in charge here!” the advisor snapped. “I am!”

“We wait for Lord Fragg to get here,” the Vykker said. “And when he does arrive…we make him our king.”

* * *

[Lord Stanley]

How come everyone replies to Slig75 (of "Slig Chronicles" fame) but never me? Am I a lesser writer (if so, please tell me)? Is my story not as good (if so, please tell me)?