This Pace Cannot Continue (Inconsistencies Continued, Part 3)

The Robot was noisy, and after all the aftermarket work the Driver and Doctor had done on the Chevy it didn’t exactly run quiet, but the lot of them could still sneak around when they had to. Chicago had burned, was still burning if you listened to the Doctor, but the Krauts were making their presence known in the lifeless shell nonetheless and it would serve no purpose if they threw caution to the wind and stormed around the city like they owned it. The Four were tooling around the empty streets keeping the speedometer below forty, once it hit forty-five you could hear the Chevy coming from a mile away. They hadn’t seen any soldiers in this area in months, but it never hurt to play it safe, though they played that game poorly.

The Doctor had a torn and coffee stained map out on the dash of the Chevy and was tracing a metal-clad finger through a collection of markings that vaguely resembled the city around them.

“Left up here,” he said to the Driver, his voice was raspy and thick as if he was unaccustomed to speaking, which was true. The Doctor was the quiet type, their nominal leader but not the kind to shout out orders or bully people into listening.

The Robot and the Gangster were in the back seat with the top down on the Chevy. The Robot stood immobile like a dull grey statue of alien metal, his humanoid hand gripping the armored canopy that was resting above the trunk of the Chevy, it wasn’t as tough as the side and bottom armor of the car but it sure beat the canvas top the ride had come with. The Robot’s head and upper torso panned back and forth as he scanned the surroundings. He didn’t actually see like the humans did, but he had antennae inside him that served the same purpose and then some.

The Driver took the left as he’d been asked and they slowed to a halt before the power station the Doctor had sent them out to investigate.

The Gangster leapt out of the back, cigarette lit and half smoked by the time his feet hit the pavement, “What’s the order of business then doc?”

“Fuel from the pipes goes into the power station generator, we leave and hope it runs long enough to power up the UPS equipment in the lab and give us a steady supply of juice for the next few months,” he said as he clambered out of the Chevy.

The Gangster nodded and checked the action on his Tommy gun before moving towards the power station. The Driver played around beneath the steering wheel, let out a yelp of pain and sucked on his fingers before getting out of the idling Chevy. When he’d pieced the Chevy together back in Baltimore he hadn’t been able to find keys so he’d had to wire the thing himself and had a few creative methods for turning it on and off and ensuring no one ran off with it without his consent.

The power station was a small one that powered a small section of Chicago, including their lab. This was a project that had been in the works for roughly a month. Between raids on Wehrmacht supply depots they’d been scrounging for gasoline in the ruins and had been attempting to collect it in the lab and route it through the sewer systems back to this power station. It had been a coal power station, but firing it up would have drawn Krauts like…Krauts to sauerkraut, the Doctor been able to cobble together a decent reciprocating engine and jury- rig it into place.

The long term goal was to get a network of power stations running quietly under the nose of the Krauts so that more rebels could take up residence in Chicago and perhaps make a bigger nuisance of themselves than the Five were alone. For now though, they were just trying to keep their base of operations running. The intent was to pump fuel stored in the lab here to generate electricity that would shoot back across the wires into the lab and be stored in the battery room of the lab. The general assumption of everyone involved was that it would all go to shit and they’d be up to their necks in Germans the second any switches, figurative or literal, were flipped.

The service entrance to the power station had been barricaded and reinforced the last time they were here and the Robot was the only one strong enough to open it up, the Vampire might be able to do it if he was pissed enough, but he’d probably just tear it off its hinges and then try and eat them all. It wouldn’t have been the first time. The Robot managed to swing the door open and it and the rest of them entered the dim interior of the power station, the Robot shouldered the door shut after everyone made it inside.

The light from the Robot’s “eyes” brightened suddenly and panned across the interior of the power station, enabling his allies to get a feel for their surroundings. The interior was just as they’d left it weeks ago when they’d last been here. Like many buildings in the city much of the top had been caved in or just completely missing when they’d found the place. They’d done their best to repair the roof and patch the walls without making the building look too fixed up and in one piece and for the most part they’d succeeded.

“Approximately how long before you’ll be able to integrate parabolic sound pickup and X-ray imagery into your sensor makeup?” asked the Doctor as he followed the beams of light emanating from the Robot.

“Working uninterrupted and with unrestricted access to our cache of equipment, approximately one week.”

“Work faster.”

“Your request has been noted.”

Still talking to the Robot the Doctor said, “Take up position by the pipes we installed last time.” To the Driver he said, “Keep an eye on the car,” and to the Gangster he said, “Bring your lighter over here with me to the engine, I’ll need the light.”

“Why not use your fancy gloves?” asked the Gangster with a smile, though he followed the Doctor and readied the lighter.

The Doctor sighed and said, “Because my gauntlet fires a coherent beam if high intensity solid light and it will cut the engine in half if I so much as point it in the general direction of what I need to see.”

The Gangster cleared his throat and spoke in a deep monotone, “Your reasoning has been noted, proceed.”

The Driver smirked as he looked out the peephole and the Doctor glared and waited for the Gangster to fire up his lighter.

The Robot spoke from across the room, his voice filling the station with its static laden drone, “Your mockery has been noted. You will find my metal girth uncomfortably distant when we next engage in combat and you are in need of cover. Hopefully you will find your flesh as durable as I find my tungsten, titanium, and steel layered exterior.”

The Gangster snickered and flipped off the Robot’s turned back and then brought his lighter in close to the control panel of the engine. The Doctor was busily tightening hoses and crews, crossing his eyes and dotting his tees to ensure that something stupid didn’t ruin this excursion. He nodded absently to himself and gestured to the Robot. The Robot had been waiting patiently for the gesture, which he “saw” even though his back was turned. With the irresistible strength of his humanoid arm the Robot pulled on a metal lever and allowed gasoline to flow into the power station.

Once gas was reaching the engine the Doctor hit the ignition switch and it roared into life and began chugging away and generating electricity. The Doctor and Gangster smiled at each other and turned towards the door where the Driver was still stationed, the Robot turned and began cycling ammunition into his weapon limb, his sensors had picked up the same things the Driver’s widening eyes had.