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FELIX FRANKMAN
Sometimes, just sometimes, a House like Freeride ferrets away and creates something of beauty, be it a Programmer's Code, a Chef's Meal, or an Engineer's Machine. In this case it was the latter. When that happens, some Houses will send out Scouts; people with the skill for observing, taking notes and, in some cases, stealing plans or in extreme cases, to steal the Machine itself. That was why the Houses maintained their secrecy, only revealing the Machine when they had to. They would take those Machines to a remote place, far from other Houses and prying eyes, to test its limitations; or so they thought. Chances were, if a Machine was in the open, someone was watching it. Such was the nature of war, that there would be spies on every corner, ears to the walls and eyes on the prize.
The areas they used were called Testing Grounds. They were usually plain and difficult to spot on first inspection. Within the Grounds they had test Machines, basic functioning ones, for the new ones to attack. The test Machines didn't attack back, however - because what would be the point in that?
There was a particular Scout known as Felix Frankman. He was good. He was, in fact, better than good. If he didn't want to be seen, no one would ever know he was there. If he wanted to steal, it would be gone before you realised it. If he wanted to watch, to observe, you would be thoroughly watched without ever knowing it. He was partially covered by brick dust and debris, hunkered down in a natural dip of the ruined area. Some of the ruins in this part of the Droke were pinned slightly higher, creating natural shade for a concreted area that had been meticulously cleared and now contained an Engineer, a Programmer, an Executive and half a dozen well-armed men. And the Machine, of course.
An Engineer was tinkering away at the complicated set of wires in the Machine’s back. He was talking to the Executive, "I'm not sure I can work out what he was doing. This stuff’s quite advanced you know."
The Executive, a man long and thin, with angular joints and a uniform to match, advanced on the Engineer, arms crossed behind his back like he meant it, "Are you saying you can't get it to work?" he asked in a definitely threatening manner.
"Now, I didn't say that. Just, it’s - it's a bit complicated."
"You have thirty minutes, Reystar. Otherwise you know what'll happen, don't you?" Reystar nodded vigorously in assent. Felix Frankman breathed in, cursing himself for the few pieces of dust that rolled from his back. The Executive continued his power trip, "Domera, are you finished with the code?" He had moved on to the Programmer now, tapping away at a solid and cream coloured console.
"Sir, it's nearly done. But like Reystar said, the interface is -"
"Am I surrounded by incompetents!?" shouted the Executive with a shrill voice to match his shrill face.
"I don't think so, Sir?" began the Programmer, not sure if it was a rhetorical question or not. It turned out it was, due to the slap over the head for the comment.
"Insolence!" the Executive shrilled again.
"I think I have it Sir!" called the Engineer, just in the nick to save his colleague, "It should -" the Engineer Reystar strained against a bolt, slipped and dropped the spanner inside the Machine, "Uhm, perhaps not." he said, sheepishly. The Executive scowled at him and Felix advanced. He needed to get a better look at this Machine that was confusing these men. Engineers were rarely confused. Programmers never were - in Felix's experience, at least. He waited until the Guards rotated again before picking a better vantage point. Oh, Felix was good. Very good. Right up to the point that he wasn't.
"Who the Hell are you?" It came from behind him. At first he didn't register it, as it was an impossibility that someone had sneaked up on him, "Hey, you! What the Hell are you doing?"
"I - I think I dropped my glasses down here. I was just looking -" And everything went black.
#
"Who is this?" Felix recognised the voice of the Executive, but he didn't open his eyes. He also knew he was bound by the arms and legs. On top of that he assumed a weapon was pointing at him, but didn't, as said, open his eyes to find out.
"I think it's a Scout, Sir?" This was the voice of the Guard he hadn't spotted. Felix felt a boot prod him.
"So, a spy? Interesting. Did you check his pockets?"
"No, Sir."
"Why not?"
"He doesn't have any, Sir."
"Just - just wake him up, will you?"
The Guard kicked him. When that didn't work, he shook Felix until his teeth rattled.
"Alright! Alright." said Felix Frankman, opening his eyes at last. His first view was of the Executive; he had brown weaselly eyes and bad breath. Just beyond him was the Guard, and beyond the Guard was the Machine. Felix was certainly close enough now. Perhaps a little too close.
"What are you doing here?" asked the Executive.
"What do you think I'm doing here?" The Executive slapped Felix across the face.
"Tell me what your purpose is here?!" spat the Executive. An angry vein popped out on the Executive's forehead, pulsing away.
"Oh, you know. This and that?" another slap, "You know, if that vein pops out anymore, it's gonna jump out and strangle you." another slap, "This is getting us nowhere, don't you think?" The Executive raised his hand for another slap, but changed his mind, perhaps realising its futility. He instead gestured for the Guard to pick Felix up to his feet.
"You realise the penalty for spying on another House is death?" said the Executive, coming nose to nose with Felix.
Felix looked, literally, down his nose, "I had an inkling."
Continually frustrated, the Executive stood aside and gestured to the Guard to take Felix out into the Testing Grounds. But as Felix was being dragged past the Machine, he suddenly called out, "Oh, this Machine? I've seen this one before."
"Halt!" shouted the Executive. Everybody halted. It felt almost as though time halted, for just a fraction, "What do you mean, you've seen it before? Answer me!"
"Just what I said. It's a different body, but I've seen that interior before. What, you can't get it to work? Ha!"
The Executive grabbed Felix by the chin, "Are you lying to me?"
"No. Look, it's easy to fix. You just -" Felix made a sudden movement to the Machine, pushing the Engineer out of the way and falling into the Machine interior; half in, half out, like being hit suddenly in the stomach and doubling over. There were shouts and commotion, but eventually, the Guard pulled Felix back out of the Machine interior, jostling him as he chuckled in amusement.
"Get him out of there! Now! Tie him up to that post out there! We'll see who has the last laugh around here, as this Machine takes you apart, you disrespectful, evil little spy!" growled the Executive, turning his back on him and gaining composure. He wiped the spittle from his mouth and chin, took in a deep cleansing breath, coughed due to the polluted air and finally straightened himself and his uniform, turning to see the Guard testing the straps on the spy, making sure they were secure, before returning to the Executive. The other Guards shifted uneasily, but continued their vigil, staring out into the endless night, glad it wasn't them.
The Executive turned to the Programmer, "Is the code finished?"
"I believe so Sir, or at least a cannibalised version of -" the Programmer could see the look on the Executive's face and decided not to push it. There were plenty more posts out there in the Training Ground, "Yes, Sir. It's ready."
Then the Executive turned to the Engineer, who was looking deeply into the Machine interior, fingers to his lips in anxious deference to the mix-up of wires before his eyes, "Engineer? Are you ready?"
"Well -"
"No well's, no maybe's, no possibly's. Is it or isn't it?"
"I think he broke it, Sir." said the Engineer, suddenly remembering the wink Felix had given him when he pushed him aside.
The Executive spun so sharply on his heels he nearly fell down, only to see the post where Felix Frankman had been tied tightly was now vacant. The interior of the Machine, it seemed, had become a victim to subterfuge and was missing a vital piece of equipment. Both that item and the Scout had completely vanished.
Such was the genius of Felix Frankman, the Scout Supreme.
And all they were left with was the notion - had he been caught on purpose? Just to get close enough to the Machine? They would never know, not for certain.
Good old Felix. He really was a git.
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