The Red Phoenix 12: Strength Comes in Numbers (9 page)

“Zero-two-two-seven-fifty-seven,” Scott answered. “It’s also Siddoway’s date of birth.”

“Got it,” said Chris.

Scott opened the top and took out the chrome gun. It held in his hand like a short-stocked assault rifle but it had a pistol grip, bulky stock, a second grip under the front near the barrel, and bright blue lights around it.

“I like the color,” said Chris.

“The chrome plating gives it a futuristic look, don’t you think?” Scott replied, aiming the weapon towards the other side of the room.

“What do you intend on shooting?” asked Chris.

“Have any change in your pocket?” asked Scott.

“Yeah, I think so,” Chris answered, taking out a quarter, a few nickels and some pennies.”

“Time for them to meet the Ice Age, Christopher,” said Scott.

“You serious?”

“Count to three and let it rip,” Scott responded, holding the weapon up.

“One … two … three,” said Chris, tossing the coins upwards, underhand.

Scott fired, making a brilliant blue beam with white streaks shoot across the room, soaking the coins in the beam while in mid-air. The coins hit the floor encased in solid ice.

“Wow! That was impressive,” said Chris, astounded, crouching down at the coins, picking one up, gazing at it.

“Not bad, huh?” asked Scott. “Imagine a couple armies fighting with these? The world be thrown back to ten-thousand B.C.”

“I’ve never seen a weapon do anything like this,” said Chris, picking up another iced-coin. “Incredible.”

“So, you probably want your money back, right?” asked Scott, putting the ice gun back in its case.

“You mean do I want to put a bunch of ice cubes in my pocket? Not really,” said Chris.

“Never fear, my friend, for Dr. Siddoway has foreseen your challenges and I intend to free you from your burdens,” said Scott theatrically, opening another glass case and taking out a pair of black metallic gloves with something that looked like a hockey puck built onto the palms.

“What did you have in mind? A space age microwave oven to thaw them out?” asked Chris.

“Not exactly, something a little more appropriate,” Scott responded.

“You’re using the
Death Grip
gloves to shock-thaw the ice away?” asked Chris.

“The Death Grips are over there in their own case; these are different,” Scott replied.

Chris stood by, watching.

“The best way to get rid of ice is… Fire!” said Scott, raising his palms, making fire blaze out of both of them, which melted the ice down to a small puddle of water on the floor.

Chris stepped back, astonished.

“What do you think?” asked Scott.

“Whoa!” said Chris. “A flame thrower from the palms?”

“The cool thing about these is the palms only have to be changed about once every three years,” said Scott. “I helped Siddoway with manufacturing the prototypes.”

“Jeez, he’s going to make a fortune on this stuff,” said Chris, picking up his wet coins and drying them off.

“Oh yeah, pretty soon Siddoway will have his own skyscraper somewhere and the world will be coming to him,” Scott responded, putting the gloves back in their case. “Well, let’s head back to the lab. Siddoway should be returning soon.”

***

In Siddoway’s lab, Scott and Chris continued to check the tritium canisters then type in data at the computer terminal.

“Oh good, you’re here already working on the canisters,” said Siddoway, entering the lab, carrying a long, black, rectangular, hardbound case with handles in either hand.

“Need help with those, boss?” asked Scott.

“No, but thank you, Scott,” Siddoway answered, setting the cases on the counter then opening them. “I’m anxious to get these weapons charged up so I can test them.”

“I can charge them for you,” Scott offered.

“Please do and show Chris how it is done,” Siddoway responded. “I have a feeling the three of us will be setting up two-thousand of these manually ourselves before the deadline next month,” he added in a concerned voice.

“Two-thousand?” asked Scott. “What happened to Dr. Drexby’s department on level minus seventy-nine? I thought they were going to help us? We were only supposed to do a hundred each.”

“That, my friend, is the result of poor planning and under budgeting,” Siddoway responded, putting on a full body suit like Scott and Chris wore then taking out a peculiar designed weapon from the case. “It amazes me the numbskulls they have to run this place.”

The weapon was modeled to look like a futuristic Chinese assault rifle without the stock. It had a handle grip, curved magazine, a barrel on the bottom for a photon grenade and the primary barrel on top that extended further than the bottom barrel by a few inches.

Siddoway turned on the gun, causing a thin, bright orange beam to appear across the top above the trigger and mag chamber. A soft revving sound came from the weapon as he held it up, waiting for a charged mag.  Scott took out a charging base and a magazine for the weapon from one of the cases on the counter.

“Chris, take an uncharged magazine and place it into the case like this,” Scott instructed, shoving a curved magazine into the base.

“That magazine looks like an actual banana-style mag I used in the service,” said Chris, complimenting its design.

“I know it’s tight, huh?” Scott stated. “Here’s the cool thing. Notice the flashing red dot at the top of the mag while it’s on the base? That means its still charging.”

“How long until it’s charged?” asked Chris.

“Right now,” Scott answered, smiling. “Notice the red light is now a green light flashing? Cool, huh?”

“That is fast,” stated Chris. “How long is the charge good for?”

“This is going to blow you away,” Chris answered. “About—”

“—All day in the field,” Siddoway interrupted, staring at him like he was dead serious.

“All day?” asked Chris, sounding baffled.

“Equivalent to ten-thousand rounds of ammunition with no need for reloading,” Siddoway added in a serious tone.

“You see what I’m saying, Chris? Siddoway’s stuff is going to revolutionize the weapons industry,” Scott stated.

“What caliber does the weapon fire?” asked Chris.

Siddoway laughed. Scott chuckled.

“What?” asked Chris.

“Did I hear you say the word
caliber
, Mr. Michaels?” asked Siddoway.

“Yes,” Chris answered.

“Caliber refers to the ballistics size of hole in a target, Chris,” stated Siddoway, anxious to show-off. “I say it’s time to change things up a bit. What if a weapon has three settings? Stun. Burn. Vaporize, or kill.”

“Like a laser gun?” asked Chris.

“Scott? Let’s give Chris a little demonstration and show him what this can do,” stated Siddoway.

“Sure, what do you need?” asked Scott.

“Take the three cups there off the counter; stand on the other side of the lab,” Siddoway answered.

“Oh, I get it,” stated Scott, moving to the far side of the lab, balancing one of the cups on top of his head, holding the other two in either hand.

Chris stood back, watching them. He hoped it wasn’t going to end up in a terrible accident.

“Just stand right there, Mr. Scott,” said Siddoway. “Just don’t move a muscle.”

“You sure you know what you’re doing?” asked Chris, feeling a little scared for Scott’s safety.

“Witness the new era of weaponry, Chris,” Siddoway answered, firing three quick blasts from gun.

Three blue lasers flew across the lab, striking each cup one after another, vaporizing them, and causing Scott to flinch a little. Siddoway lowered his weapon with a satisfied smile.

“Whoa!” said Chris, sounding amazed. “Where did the cups go?”

“Gone,” Scott answered.

“What kind of weapon is that?” asked Chris.

“Laser technology fueled by tritium,” Siddoway answered. “I call it the Siddoway XD Three-Thousand—but I prefer
The Vaporizer.
”

“Incredible,” stated Chris, moving towards Siddoway.

“Here, go ahead.” Siddoway handed Chris the weapon. “One of your jobs is to help us prepare the arsenal for delivery next month. You and Scott will have to charge each one then test them.”

“Fascinating weapon,” said Chris, holding up the weapon and aiming it at the wall.

“Scott? Now that I think of it, test the photon grenade launchers as well,” stated Siddoway.

“I’ll take Chris to the usual place in the desert,” stated Scott.

“Excellent,” Siddoway responded.

“The desert?” Chris asked.

“It’s about ten miles from here,” Scott replied, smiling. “It’s going to be awesome. But, boss, aren’t you worried about any competition this year?”

“Not if it’s the usual run-of-the-mill idiots from Mueller Weapons Incorporated,” Siddoway answered.

“Ah, those guys are retards,” stated Scott.

“Exactly. I’ll catch up with you gentlemen later this afternoon then,” stated Siddoway, taking off his head protection. “I better get up to level fifteen.”

“I hate to complain, boss, but how are we supposed to pull off the preparation of two-thousand XDs by next month?” asked Scott. “That’s in two weeks.”

“When these fools built this place, they didn’t take into account the staffing needs at all, especially for the more advanced departments like mine,” said Siddoway, removing the rest of his full-body suit. “Unfortunately, Dr. Drexby’s unit is tied up in the planning for the upcoming space shuttle division.”

“So, it’s just us, huh?” asked Scott.

“Afraid so,” Siddoway answered.

“Fine by me, I can use some overtime,” said Scott.

“I don’t care if you guys have to work time and a half or double-time, it needs to get done,” Siddoway responded, sounding firm. “Does that create any problems for you, Chris?” asked Siddoway in a considerate voice.

“Not at all,” Chris replied. “Sounds like fun.”

“Excellent,” stated Siddoway, putting papers into a briefcase then heading for the door. “I’ll be in a meeting the rest of the afternoon. Ciao, boys.”

“Siddoway is much busier than I remember,” said Chris.

“Tell me about it,” Scott replied. “The guy spends six-months out of the year designing and producing something awesome then spends the other six months going all over the place, selling his inventions for the government and training people how to use them.”

“Sounds lucrative,” stated Chris.