Ba Blackschmaa was a chimpanzee. He had been bred, born and lived, his entire existence within the walls of the great metropolis. The Protectorate had raised him.. They fed him. Housed him. Clothed him. Instructed him and indoctrinated him.
        He had learned the use of a 200 word iconic vocabulary which allowed him to communicate efficiently with most humans. The symbology of his language was tapped out on a green fluorescent band which circled his left wrist. Minute movements to the left or right caused the device to rotate the hieroglyphs at a pace which pushed the envelope of human visual comprehension. The selected glyphs were then passed through a tiny voice synthesizer which projected his thoughts as digital words which emanated from a small speaker located at his neck.
        For all of the technological efforts made in these areas, cost effectiveness left him with a system that made him sound like a cross between a three year old and an electronic hiccup. This did not bother him, however. To Ba, Human speech was annoying.. To his ears it was nothing more than a endless soliloquy of elongated, moaning babble. At least, that's what he had told me He tuned it out as best as he could. And as much as his job would allow him. Ba Blackschmaa was an Officer of the Metropolitan Protectorate.
        A Cop.
        Even though we had been a team for over three years, the inhuman nature of his voice still sent shivers up and down my spine.
        "Big Drink" he said
        "We just started B." I was annoyed. Ba would immediately know this as well. He didn't even have to read the tone of my voice or decipher my body language. He would simply feel that I was annoyed. He was a psychic. As a detective, this made him an excellent partner but it also made him annoying as hell.
        "Big Drink.. Now.." .He reached a large hand upwards to my face and squeezed my cheeks so that my mouth curled up into a raspberry like grimace. The touch was firm, but gentle. Ba weighed over 280 pounds. He could have crushed my skull. I'd seen what the Chimps were capable of at the academy. The practice dummies had perhaps three times the general structural integrity of a human skeletal system. I had seem them broken and twisted apart like so much dried chicken bone. I could still remember the brittle snapping sounds.
        "O.K....OK Ba. There's a pavilion just around the next bend." I said.
Satisfied, Ba continued to paddle down the canal. We were headed southbound, just half a click from station 12. A lot of the teams preferred horseback, but Ba had a strange affinity for the water. He also flatly refused to mount a horse. Usually, this would have meant his expulsion from the academy and his banishment from the City. Being a Psychic had its advantages.
        "You know Ba...There are much faster ways of getting around."
He turned and looked at me, his big brown eyes wide and the furl of his lips curled back over his enormous, flat teeth. Like a human, most of his teeth were grinders, but he still had two prominent canines. Rumour had it that outside the walls, retired Chimps hunted in small groups with a cunning military precision and a keen disposition towards the taste of deer. Looking at his smile I could believe it. But then, I had never been outside the Metro.
        "Faster better Query? ...Water Nice. Water calm. Ba see better Ba Calm."
        "We could have been there ten minutes ago "
        "People no change. Scene no Change. Feelings same. Ba see good. Feel good...Calm.."
        He stretched his long muscular arm outward and shook it at the banks of the canal. Trees and long soft grass pushed right down to the water. There was no concrete. No asphalt. No automobiles. Flowers and water and crisp clean air. Urban design had come a long way since the Greenpeace dictatorship of 38. As a child reading the histories, I had often wondered what the Metro would have devolved into had General Motors won the war.
        "Metro Calm...First law Protectorate Query? . Speed kill. End."
        "Touché" It was hard to argue with him. Not only was he prescient, but I had also come to learn that he had a keen grasp for abstract philosophy. Because of the limitations on his vocabulary, his sentences often seemed simplistic. Often, days later I would realize that he had been speaking metaphorically on two or three different levels. In his brevity he often showed true genius. I tended to run off at the mouth and ended up saying perhaps half of what Ba could fit into a single sentence.
        We rounded a gentle bend in the canal and brought the boat to rest quietly upon a section of delicate white sand. There were a few patrons sitting out under a series of interwoven fern like canopies which provided ample shade. The traded small talk and sipped quietly a various concoctions. A few looked up as we approached but none took specific notice. The Chimps had been around for enough generations so that there presence was hardly noticed. I had also found that the Chimps...Ba in particular...had a natural gift for only being noticed when it was in their best interests. And when it was...watch out.
        Ba walked to the counter and dropped his fist upon the wood of the bar with a dull slap. The owner, a brutish looking Asian man in his late 50's turned and pulled at a thin, yellowing goatee. Ba punched his wristband
        "Big Coffee Please...Coffee" He said.
        The Asian nodded and looked in my direction.
        "Two" I answered.
        With practice skill he selected a large, turquoise gourd and cleaved it in two with knife that appeared magically from his side. The gourd was hollow and he poured coffee into each half and handed them over the counter. Ba took his eagerly and sipped it as he made his way back to boat.
        We owed nothing in trade. On duty, our crisp green uniforms were all the payment that was required, at least when it came to food and drink. Ba sat down in the boat and sipped his drink. Gazing down at the easy current he looked every inch the serene, philosopher poet.
        "We should get going. It's not often we have a Missing Person"
        Ba ignored me and continued gazing at the water. A large blue fish passed under the boat and attached itself to a rock where it commenced feeding. I guessed its weight at 200 kilos. It was a Silt Grouper. The canals were filled with them. They kept things clean, and as an added benefit, were quite tasty. Most families were permitted to cull 2-3 in a given year depending upon their need. Ba didn't eat fish, though many of the Chimps did. H was strictly a steak and salad man...so to speak.
Ba watched the grouper and, finishing his coffee, tossed the empty gourd in its direction. The splash caught its attention and it detached itself from the rock and whirled to investigate. It inhaled the treat with one great intake of water and then returned to suckling at the algae laden rock. Ba clapped his hands in obvious approval.
        "Energy" he said
        "Energy?" Sometimes I really felt stupid.
        "Energy equals energy. Stasis Stasis Stasis." Ba clapped his hands and smiled. He picked up the paddle and soon we were moving downstream again.
        "OK...Ba....I know...No energy leaves the system."
        "Stasis" Ba said and eased the boat round another gentle bend.
        As usual his simple comments got me to thinking. Perhaps we had achieved stasis. At least inside the Metros. Population was steady. No pollution. No technology. No growth. The dictatorship had managed to turn the collective against its own self destructive individual impulses. It controlled everything, guiding it towards the betterment of the maximization of quality of life for the species. The technology required and the corresponding industrial infrastructure were based outside the living environs, far away and removed from the Metros.
        Over the years I had heard of a place called Africa. That's where they built the voice synthesizers -- where they were still allowed to pursue the dangers of scientific experimentation. But all of that was far and away from life in the City. That country was for madmen, or so I had been told.
        "Sad Woman. Sad, Sad Woman here" Ba said interrupting my canal of thought. He paddled quickly, staining his impressive musculature. The boat lurched forward and soon I could see two Officers standing by the shore. They were talking with a middle aged woman. Behind them, perhaps twenty yards or so, two children, a girl and boy, played a game of tag amidst a well manicured lawn which surrounded a quiet, standard bungalow of red brick. The woman, perhaps 40, had lovely long black hair which immediately caught my attention. She was stroking it nervously and from the swollen red flesh around her eyes it was obvious she had been crying. I could still figure some things out for myself. Psychic Chimp or not.
        Ba guided the boat to the sand of the homestead's landing. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. The two Officers, both human, watched with interest. Ba was well know throughout the ranks.
        "BA. Blackschmaa." One of the Officers said, turning his attention back to the distraught Citizen.
        "BA. is somewhat of a legend Mrs. Krepps -- a real prodigy. If anyone can sort this out quickly, its him.
        Mrs. Krepps moved forward and looked at Ba in quiet wonder. Ba's eyes remained closed and he had commenced to slowly rocking himself, as if seeking comfort. She reached a hand tentatively forward. After a pausing out of instinctual fear, her curiosity, or perhaps her pain, won over and she cupped the side of Ba.'s face. Ba. trembled
        I climbed quietly onto the shore and moved close to the second officer. He was intent upon observing Ba and the woman. I had to physically nudge him to get his attention. He leaned over and whispered in my ear, perhaps thinking that noise would interfere with the natural Course of Ba's paranormal investigation.
        "Central sent the call first thing this morning" He reached into his pocket and removed a small leather cylinder. He untied a tiny drawstring and pulled a small piece of rice paper from within. He studied it momentarily.
        "Mr. Antolf Krepps, 43 years old, full Metro privileges, 42 West Bank, Canal S132. Breeding Spouse Elaine, Wilma K, 37, two of three procreative options exercised, offspring , Reginal, (M), 6, Mollinar, F(5)...
        "Three options...?" I asked. Most couples were lucky of they qualified for two.
        "Mr. Krepps classified as a B1. Abstract Philosophy rating of 197 dated 02/15/72/5.
        "A genius?"
        The Officer scratched his head and continued to study the tiny notes. Central had yet to approve an upgrade on the homing pigeons. Until they decided it was worth the genetic risk in size enhancement, the working man would have to squint at the minuscule messages.
        "It would seem so. He had... sorry.. has a Metropolitan classification as a first tier botanist/philanthropist. Current contract through Cobal/Purrina for investigation of hybrid data inseminated gourds."
        I looked at the Mrs. Krepp, who was still engaged with Ba.. Ba. was rocking form side to side with his eyes closed.
        "Great...A Vine- Head"
        "Yeah...You'd think that if the guy was so smart he wouldn't have misplaced himself."
        "When did he go missing."
        "Yesterday, just past mid sun. Mrs. Krepps said he had been out back or most of the morning working in the garden."
        "They have a garden" Again , I was surprised.
        "Yeah...I guess as far as Vine-Heads go Mr. Krepps was...is… The real deal. Two full acres, Private Botany.
        "You checked the grounds..petitioned the neighbors?..."
        The officer nodded. His eyes moved from me and back to Ba.. Ba. had commenced a low groaning sound. Mrs. Krepps stood, eyes glazed and zombie like, staring straight forward and into infinity.
        "Zero on both counts. You should check the vines though. I'm no expert but I'd say Mr. Krepps was working on some advance stuff...What the hell is he doing.?..."
        Mrs. Krepps remained strangely catatonic. I had witnessed this reaction in humans several times before. When Ba. put the ol' minds eye on you things got a little weird. He had read me several times and each time I had lost a few seconds of conscious time and had come round as it were feeling like I had just had a huge hit off a smoke lily. What I had not seen before was Ba's reaction. Mrs. Krepps may have remained aloofly stoned, but Ba was clearly upset, Usually he was quite calm. Now, he was shaking and a fine white frothy spittle was slowly foaming outward from between his clenched lips.
        "Ba.?" I yelled. I moved quickly over to his position. I sat the stupefied Mrs. Krepps down. She took no notice. I grabbed Ba. firmly by his shoulders and shook. The two Officers watched in quiet amazement. For a moment Ba. seemed not to notice me or my actions. He shook, as with a great and secret fever. He coughed a great gout of phlegm and then, suddenly, as if nothing untoward had transpired, snapped his eyes wide open and looked straight at me.
        "Ghosts" He said. He pushed me aside and ran quickly back to the boat. In all our time together I had never seen him act so strangely. Also, I could not remember him ever using the word Ghost? To tell the truth, the mere utterance of it sent an immediate shiver up my spine. I had watched him tap out the communication on his wristband, but something didn't seem right. To my knowledge, the word was not, and had never been, part of the lexicon. Perhaps there had been an upgrade that I wasn't aware of . Regardless...it gave me the creeps.
        Ba perched himself in the stern of the boat, as far away as he could get from the shore. . He had curled his fist and was lightly thumping it repeatedly against his temple. He was distressed. And confused. I instructed the Officer's to take Mrs. Krepp back inside. They escorted her back towards the bungalow, gathering the two children along the way. The Boy, Reginal, stopped just at the threshold of the doorstep and looked back in our direction.
        "Monkey Monster Monkey Monster" His voice was shrill and filled with a sudden panic that contrasted sharply with the playful state of mind I had observed upon our arrival. One of the Officers turned and touched him gently on the shoulder, attempting to coax him inside. In an explosion of youthful energy, the boy ducked and dashed away, running quickly in my direction. Before I could fathom the nature of his distress, he was circling me wildly, like some crazed dog contemplating an injured bear. As this image ran across my stream of consciousness, he made a quick move inward and kicked me resoundingly on the left shin. His voice penetrated the manufactured quiet of the neighborhood.
        "Monkey Monster Monkey Monster"
        "Son..." My voice was a calm.
        "Monster Monster..." He screamed. Before I could move to subdue and reassure him, he had picked up a fist sized rock and propelled it with surprising force at Ba. Ba had remained with his back turned to the scene, rocking and tapping at his head. As if to accent his own rhythmic gestures, the rock struck him squarely in the occipital and he fell into the water with a surprisingly quiet splash.
The child suddenly calmed and look up at me with a returned air of youthful innocence.
        "Dad said the Monkey's were monsters." His lower lip commenced to quivering and as I dove frantically into the gently moving water in search of Ba., I could hear he had started to cry. Not the high piercing wail of moments earlier. Now he cried like a six year old who had lost his Father.
The water was surprisingly deep. It's clarity would enabled one to see every detail of the bottom from the boat. Once you started swimming downward it was actually perhaps up to 10 metres in places. Two silt groupers moved quickly away from where I had entered, but aside from their massive forms, I could not immediately make anything else out. Ba. could swim, it was required training for Cops working the canal districts. But he could only swim if he were conscious . I twisted in frantic circles looking for him but could see nothing and soon, my lungs forced me to start kicking for the surface. I could hear my heart pounding in my chest. It reverberated strangely inside my head, a reminder perhaps, of the precariousness of mortality.
        My head broke the surface and I gulped for air. One of the Officers stood at the bank holding the boy, who was quietly whimpering.
        "Did he surface?" My words were erratic as I gasped to catch my breath.
        The Officer nodded in the negative. I quickly noted a few white feathers drifting slowly down to the grass by his position...he had already sent for back up. I dove back under and continued my search. As in all of the canals, there was an easy current. They ran north and south throughout the Metro, each approximately 500 metres from the other. The southern and northern currents were placed beside each other so that no mater where you were, you were always within quick walking distance of one running in the direction you needed. But the currents weren't violent. Ba, even unconscious., should not have been able to drift very far downstream in the time it took me to get into the water. While all of this quickly raced through my mind I realized he was gone. I surfaced and climbed up the bank and joined the Officer and the child. Shivering, I knelt down and looked the boy in his watering eyes...
        "What did your Father tell you about the Monkeys?"
        The boy looked at his feet and started kicking one foot into the other. I lifted his chin, light, but firm, and repeated my question. My voice was all authority now. I needed answers.
        "He said I shouldn't tell"
        "I'm a Protectorate Officer" I said
        "He said I ‘specially shouldn't tell Cops. Monkey or Man."
        "Do you know where your Father is" I asked. It was obvious from his tone that he wasn't going to budge on the Monkey Monster issue. He looked back up at me, tears freshly welling in his big brown eyes.
        "No...he's disappeared ...he.."
        "He what?" There was something there..
        "He...?" The boy started to convulse towards another explosion of tears. I slapped him hard across the cheek and yelled. Sometimes you had to go with the shock factor.
        "He went away..."
        "Went away" I backed my tone off just a little.
        He looked into the river where Ba had fallen.
        "He went away with the Ghosts."
        "The Ghosts?" My voice was all calm and reassuring now. The more he said the kinder my manner became.
        "He looked at me, obviously confused.
        "That's what he called them...The Ghosts from the Machine...."
        Before I could get any further there was a thundering sound of hooves and several Officers broke through the foliage along one of the east/west paths. Their horses sent powerful jets of steam into the air . They quickly surrounded myself and the child. From my crouched position they seemed to towering, muscular monsters driven by muscled intellect. There were six of them. Five chimps and one man. I was more than a little surprised to identify the man as Chief Protectorate Davies. I had never actually met him but his picture was everywhere at the Precincts. The Chimps all wore surreal red eye visors which identified them as private guards. It was all happening a little too fast.
        Neither Davies or the Chimps dismounted. Davies voice was strangely soft and whispery. I had expected something much more stern from someone in his position of command.
        "Report..." He said quietly.
        "Report Report.. Report…." His entourage echoed, punching their wrist bands excitedly...demandingly.
        "Missing Person's Call...Ba Blackschmaa and I..."
        "Ba Blackschmaa!!!"
        "Yes..Sir.. Ba Blackschmaa and I were…"
        Davies went ape.. if you'll pardon the expression.
        "I want this lot sectioned off. Canal to canal if you have to. No citizens." His entourage tapped at their bands excitedly.
        "No Citizens.. No Citizens" The echoed in an surreal electronic symphony. They rode off in every direction, leaving Davies to stare down at me.
        "Did Ba Blackschmaa speak with Mr. Krepps?"
        "No Sir.. Mr., Krepps was the MP. He interrogated Mrs. Krepps however…just before he disappeared into the canal.
        "Dammit"
        "Sir …If you'll pardon me.. Ba Blackschmaa took a hit on the head."
        I could tell from his expression that Davies wasn't concerned for Ba's welfare.
        "I'm sure he'll turn up" His words were ice.
        "I really think we should start a search ..from here to the southern"
        "We'll handle it from here detective. I suggest you get back to the precinct and into some dry clothes. "
        I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My partner had disappeared, possibly drowned and he was asking me to stand down. It just wasn't logical.
        "With all due respect Sir I would request…"
        "That was not a suggestion Detective. It was an order." He was staring me down something fierce. He whistled and one of the Special detail chimps came storming up to his side. His hasty approach almost dislodged him from his mount. The chimp was huge, perhaps half again the size of Ba. His one piece red visor gave him the appearance of a devolutionary demon.
        "The detective needs some dry clothes…Take him back to 12." Instructed Davies
        The chimp reached down and lifted me up like a sack.
        "And Grobold.." Davies said. Grobold turned and held his steady gaze.
        "Make sure he goes home after. He's tired and he needs a rest. Have him check in with the precinct physician. We wouldn't want him getting ill" Having given his orders, Davies whirled his mount and headed quickly off back towards the bungalow, which was now surrounded by a growing entourage of special detail types. As we rode off at breakneck speed, I saw Davies dismount and enter the bungalow. I hoped that he was planning on activating his people skills at some point, if only for the benefit of Mrs. Krepps.
        Back at the station, Grobold was all business. He had yet to say a word to me. All of my queries had gone unanswered .We dismounted and he placed a large hand firmly on my shoulder. Apparently he took his charge seriously. We passed through the administrative lobby and none of the Officers present looked twice. It was more than a little bizarre. I was still soaking wet from head to toe and, given his stance, it was obvious to even the most casual observer that I was under escort. Grobold marched me right into the Precinct sick room, a place, which, knock on wood, I had never been inside until today. It was small and unassuming. Oak flooring and panel which matched the rest of the building. There was a small cot, made of leather bundled hay, which I was firmly seated myself down upon. On the wall opposite the cot was a small mirror positioned at roughly shoulder height. Having seated me Grobold turned and tapped a five digit code on a standard wall pad. There was a hiss which I didn't immediately recognise and then a quiet, but firm, click…Hydraulics, I realised…
Satisfied that the door was locked, Grobold turned and faced me. He removed his visor. He had three eyes. This in itself was disturbing, but the fact that they were bright red with green pupils made it even more so. He reached out and grabbed me by the jaw. This time there was no pretense of gentleness. His grip was a vice. He turned my head slowly, first to the right and then to the left. He leaned close and sniffed loudly in both my ears. His enormous fingers played at the base of my occipital bone, just above the first cervical vertebrae. He seemed intent on finding something. To my surprise, he did.
        There was an invasive feeling, as an unexpected needle being thrust into tight thigh muscle, which filled me with an immediate nausea and a profound sense of general physical unease. Under the not so delicate pressure of his probing digits, I felt a section of skull give way. I heard a definite crack. I felt a strange and off balance pressure against the back of my brain for about a second. Grobold stared down at me unblinking. I noticed he had no eyebrows and that there was little, or perhaps no, hair inside his large protruding nostrils. Odd.
        He removed his finger and there was another sharp little click, He covered the entirety of my face with the palm of one hand and pushed me back into the cot so that I was prostrate. He walked to the bare wall opposite the door and knocked three times. There were more hidden sounds of mechanical motion and another hydraulic wheezing. Grobold pushed on the wall and a door made itself visible and opened inward.
        A man appeared. He was tall, perhaps seven feet, totally bald and dressed completely what looked to be white plastic. From his complexion, and the red glasses, I took him for an albino. I had seen an albino before at the Greenpeace display just south of Central. I think it had been called a Jaguar...A toothy white lanky monster that had paced intently back and forth within a small section of his elaborate environment. I remembered thinking that the creature was most certainly, highly stressed and perhaps, not entirely content with its incarceration. Red eyes in a cage. They had taken note of me and I had thought. "I am food"
        The man was reading from a small box he carried easily in his left hand. This I had never seen before, but again I made an assumption based on the histories. Words rang through my memories...Silicon...Computer...Biological interfacing. All illegal. Plastic Man seemed non too concerned about the situation. Surprisingly, either was I. I was just curious, to tell the plain truth.
Plastic Man spoke quietly into his little box (voice interface?...The local Priest would have thrown an exorcism.) and then looked up, perhaps taking note of Grobold, the guardian triclops, for the first time. Grobold hung his head low, a sign of deference, and pawed meekly at him. He raised one hand upward towards Plastic Man's face and slowly opened his palm.
        Plastic Man removed a small greenish yellow crystal and held it to the light for examination. After a moment, he removed a small red creature from his pocket. The creature, the size of a coffee gourd, was basically just an eyeball with fur covering its back and perhaps a thousand minute insectoid legs slithering in waves at its underside. The eye looked back and forth frenetically but, upon sizing up the crystal, focused with a keen intensity. Plastic Man moved the gem back and forth with the light as a backdrop and the eye followed its every move. Then, suddenly and without warning, it ejaculated a long red tongue from just beneath its lower lid, snatched the crystal, retracted and swallowed. The creature convulse violently for perhaps three full seconds, emitted a brilliant orange radiation and then, quite serenely, looked up at Plastic Man and moved its pupils from left to right.
        "No? I thought as much" Plastic Man said. He turned to Grobold.
        "Find Ba Blackschmaa. Immediately. Bring him here...and be quiet about it..."
        Instead of tapping on his wristband, Grobold pounded the floor with his fist and made a series of unintelligible, but rather impressive, screeching noises...
        "I don't care what Davies said. He can't have gone far. I said right from the start that Ba was a scenario liability. Find him. Bring him here. Call in a ghost if you have to. Davies be damned. He can disappear just as easily as Mr. Krepps. So can you...Understood?."
Grobold, head low, made a move towards the secret door.
        The little box in Plastic Man's hand beeped several times, casting a flickering orange light that reflected gently off his white features..
        "Hold" he said. He studied the box for a moment as Grobold slumped in since at the door...
        "Well...at least something is working today...Grobold..."
        "Harruuunk" Said Grobold
        "Don't take that tone with me!!" Grobold slouched even further
        "Have the special detachment recall SG143- W211-south124. Ba Blackschmaa resides inside. Bring him here.."
        Grobold disappeared with a fleshen slapping of pads down the secret corridor. Plastic Man seemed even more please with himself.
        "There...You see...Everything is fine. "
        "Ba Blackschmaa...He's alive?"
        Plastic man laughed. He seemed quite pleased with himself.
        "Alive...well depending on your philosophical definition of that...perhaps. But I know where he is and that, my friend, is far more important. Now then, You've had a tasking day and I wouldn't want to cause any further derivative effects on your product."
        He held the little crystal to the light once more. He studied it with an obvious reverence...
        "You've never really cared about anything have you detective?"
        "Pardon me?"
        "Cared passionately...hated, loved...emotive response in extremis. Quite the cool customer I can see. No a bit of red or black in the mix. Well, you're still three years off. Either Engine has further, shall we say, more intense acts in store for you, or perhaps he's cultivating another stabilization monk...."
        "Engine?"
        Plastic Man laughed again...he folded his palm over the crystal and raised his opposite hand in the air. He opened the fist which should have contained the item but it was empty. Before I could look to the outstretched palm, he had smacked me right into next Thursday. Apparently there were a lot of little stars in next Thursday.
        I awoke, naked and secured tightly to a vertical steel board. Large metallic housing held my arms tightly to my torso and similarly bound my legs. I found that I could not move my head and, perhaps more disturbingly, that my eyes were held open with some sort of cold clamps that , for obvious reason given their positioning, I could not see.
        I was breathing through a black tube which apparently had been shoved down my throat and into my lungs and to top it all off I had been catheterized. From what I could see this tube was hooked into a large circular aquarium located at my left which was filled with fluorescent green frogs and an intricate series of pistons which were thrumming up and down at quite a rapid rate. The frogs jumped frantically from one to the other, trying to keep pace. I didn't immediately fathom the situation as being particularly peachy.
        Directly across from me, and in a most similar state was a man...I took a shot in the dark
"Krepps" It tried to say... It came out more like "KRRRPSS"...He seemed to get it though, as his restrained body shook excitedly. At least I hadn't lost all of my faculties. Krepps had an extra interfacing cable which looked to be stuck right in between the suture line of his parietal plates. A clear tube ran from his head into what looked to be a series of metallic blocks and oiled pistons that hung suspended from chains some three feet above him. This contraption was connected via a long translucent cable was pumping a bubbling red liquid upwards and back towards my direction where it disappeared behind me. I mentally upgraded the situation to most probably completely screwed. Odd...I wasn't all that worried...Just interested...
        There was a hydraulic whine to my left and a whoosh of depraved, fume rich air. A series of squeaking wheels made their way slowly into my line of site. Two more Plastic Men pushed a barren steel gurney into the space between me and the obviously terrified Mr. Krepps. Upon the Gurney lay Ba Blackschmaa. Or at least, what was left of him. In a profound moment of surreal realization I fathomed that not only was one of his arms off, but, perhaps more importantly, that his head was missing entirely. What remained of his form was sticky wet and covered lightly in a strangely undulating fluorescent white goo. A few large scales reflected the ambient light. Still not having lost my faculties I recognized these as most likely having come from a large fish -- a silt Grouper to be more precise. It was all coming together in my mind now, although what that actually was remained completely beyond me. The riginal Mr. White Plastic bastard type guy walked to the table. He, certainly not surprisingly at this point, carried under his left arm the severed head of Ba Blackschmaa. Ba's eyes were open and moving from side to side. His mouth opened.
        "Screeeeeeeeeeeck" He said. So much for the Philosopher poet.
        Plastic Man was the very picture of aloof amusement. I had a feeling then, perhaps the first in my entire lifetime. Suddenly, for no other logical reason that it would make me feel good, I wanted to Pummel Mr. Plastic Man and see if he could make the same sound with his head similarly detached. Odd...
        Plastic man nodded to both Mr. Krepps and myself in turn.
        "Gentleman" He said and smiled
        "Craaaaaaaaaacrackkkk" responded Ba's head
        Krepps shivered and commenced to a profuse sweating. It looked as though he wished, quite passionately it seemed, to respond, but the only thing he managed to do was to speed up the flow of liquid steadily being transferred from his head. I thought perhaps his skull had shrunk somewhat. Easy Mr. Krepps I thought...
        "Mr. Krepps" said Plastic Man.... "Please understand...We would erase this unfortunate little incident, but, ironically. Your Pumpkins were too much a success...Engine cannot allow any psychic interfacing between man and gourd to occur...to tell the truth...we had little faith in your project but you had such confidence that we allowed it to continue as the effect on your product was most profound."
        At this point there was a great sucking whoosh from behind me and I was able to note the passing of a crystal within the flow of fluids in the Krepps skull tube. The tube bulged and Mr. Krepps head shrunk alarmingly to perhaps one third its original size. There was a sharp cracking of bone and his skin now looked like a overlarge discarded mask placed atop a big apple with shoulders. Mr. Krepps had gone Bye Bye's . Plastic Man turned his attention to me...
        "As I said detective...erasure on your part is no problem. You have no particular drive in this area so, to Engine, it is of little concern.
        "Shrieeekik" Said Ba's head.
        "Oh, what is it .." Plastic Man said turning Ba's head upwards and towards his own. Ba managed to spit...He landed good one right on Plastic Man's left cheek.
        "Interesting"
        He mumbled something to the attendant and soon they were crowded around the Gurney. There were mechanical cranking sounds, some sawing I believe, and a quick burning smell as someone soldering cheap metal on a fur coat. A few moments later the technicians parted and there was Ba. He was sitting looking at me. His head and arm were back on, albeit still smoldering. He was smoking, something I had never seen before, and he was idly rocking his legs back and forth in what might have passed for amusement.
        "I don't know doc..." Ba Blackschmaa said between drags. "We could erase him...but to tell you the truth, I think there's more to this one than meets the eye. What's he reading?"
        Plastic Man handed over what I guessed to be my Crystal. Ba placed it in his mouth and swished it around. He spit it back out and handed it to the Plastic Man.
        "See...I hardly think its worth the risk. I've had a bad feeling about this one form the word go...Always asking the damnedest questions...never cared for a damn thing in the entire three years you stuck me with him. I remember once we received a call to a well orchestrated scene were an entire boat of preschoolers had been sucked into a malfunctioning canal propeller. In a master stroke of intentional bureaucratic bumbling, Engine arranged for all of the parents to be notified before we had even started investigating, yet alone cleaning up." He took a huge hit on the cigarette and washed it down with what looked and smelled to be a single malt scotch.
        "I mean there were kids everywhere, parts of ‘em anyway, and mothers screaming and fathers trying to console the mothers but losing it themselves...It was beautiful...and this guy...this guy walks right through it all and ask a maintenance guy who's soiled himself, when the last work order was placed for the killer component. I mean.. he didn't even miss a beat, just a few steps to miss an arm or a leg here or there.
        "Fascinating," said Plastic Man. "So ...even within Engine's system, the humans are becoming less..."
        "Don't even say it" Ba interjected. He snubbed his cigarette in the last of his scotch and set it aside.
        "You have the same problem as Engine. They have interesting characteristics, but labeling certain psychological elements as "human" is most species- centric. Engine is a farmer. No more. No less. This is crop.
        Ba pulled close and grabbed my face. He leaned close until all I could see were his wild green eyes. I'd never looked this close...they seemed comprised of minute little cubes which themselves were comprised of even more minute little cubes. They were still beautiful though.
        "They still think Greenpeace won the war." Said Ba with obvious cynicism.
        "And so they should. This makes them happier. And the happier they are the better the product.
        "Touché," Said Ba Blackschmaa, "touché..." He pulled the large tube from my throat and wiped dry spittle from my lips as I quickly managed to suppress my gagging...
        "Your no Psychic Ba" I said.
        "Nope...I just had the scripts before we started acting. In fact...about seventeen generations ago, I was an Mclarren F1. I could really smoke...let me tell you..."
        "You were a car?"
        Ba slapped me
        "I was a precision machine, even back then." Ba continued staring at me.
        "You know Doc. He's not a bad guy. Just simple. His product isn't impressive, but its product all the same. Let him go to Engine. Maybe he'll learn to feel."
        "Always the sentimentalist " Plastic Man said.
        "No...No.... not really. I just like a good ride. He might too. That's all. And...I hate to see anything go to waste.. especially fuel."
        A clear tub smashed into the top of my skull. Ba fitted the crystal back inside me and for a second, I seemed whole. He turned my chair and for another second I had a glimpse of what I assumed was Engine. Its space filled a incredible metallic warehouse and everywhere there were great rolling, flagellating explosions of gaseous fire. Here and there, built into his mechanical framework, were monkeys, each having a steering wheel upon which they were working feverishly.
Co-axles ran from their skulls into the living mountain of tempered steel and carbon. At the apex of the conglomerate was a vast silver manifold and a pumping mound of cerebral flesh interwoven with wiring and plugs and various other bits of technology I couldn't even begin to fathom.
        There was a sucking, and I left myself and soon was lost inside the living mountain. I was suffused with a thousand memories of a thousand roads, I could feel the love of the hot asphalt beneath my tires and the need for a burning fire in my stomach. Once I had been a Mclarren F1 and man ..Could I burn...

Copyright 1999 John Tannock