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Three-Legged Race [IC]


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Oh, frabjous day, Jubatus thought. This Vimes yutz is yet another datapoint in support of the proposition that INT and WIS should be separate stats. Definitely don't want to experience that 'extraction' process up, close, and personal. The question was, how to get free of the straps? The obvious lines of attack had all failed…

Jubatus upshifted to buy himself some extra time to ponder his options. The straps are tough S-O-Bs, no question. But they've got some flexibility, so maybe I can stretch 'em until they're loose enough for me to slip my paws out? The feline levered an arm up as best he could—yes, there was a non-zero amount of slack—but the moment he let up the pressure, the strap returned to its former degree of tightness. Oh, well. Didn't really expect it'd work, but it was worth trying. Hmmm… He wracked his brains for any scrap of data he could think of that might be relevant to escaping from leather straps—and found something from a biography of the great escapologist Harry Houdini. One of Houdini's tricks was tensing his muscles while being bound or chained or whatever, so that when his muscles relaxed, he created an exploitable degree of slack in the bonds! Too bad I was out cold while they trussed me up. But maybe I can pull off a variation on Houdini's trick now..?

Downshift—put tension on one arm's straps—upshift and pull the arm out. Jubatus spent several of his seconds judging whether or not this procedure has done any good whatsoever… and decided it had. That arm was now a fraction of a centimeter closer to freedom! He smiled. In this situation, a fraction of a centimeter was as good as a kilometer, because he could keep on doing it, over and over again, gaining a small amount of ground each time, until that arm was free of its straps.

Downshift-pull-upshift… downshift-pull-upshift… By no means was the process comfortable. That was alright, because it worked. Even better, the amount of physical motion involved was sufficiently small that Vimes' goons managed to completely overlook it! And with one arm free, it took a fraction of a clock-second for the fastest cat alive to finish releasing himself from the straps. Still upshifted, Jubatus gave the room a super-fast search, looking for his Vest Of Many Things. Assuming he found it, his next move would be to check the gas mask and rebreather unit, just in case Vimes might have messed with Jube's gimmicks while the cheetah was unconscious…

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GM

The two men with him had only turned there back for a fraction of a second, but that was enough. They just saw a blur when Jubatus was already halfway out of the restraints, and were too slow to react before he had completely slipped out of the bonds and was roaming the room.

Both pulled out coshes, intent on subduing the cat...

"Get him! or the boss will skin us alive!" said one as they impotently reached out to restrain the blur.

As for Jubatus, the equipment was nowhere to be found in the extraction room...only the horrible medical equipment of Vimes. Presumably the Ape had secreted it elsewhere, or was in fact studying it himself!

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Annnnd… no joy, Jubatus thought to himself, after failing to find his missing equipment. He'd ignored the guards while he searched the room; unshifted as he was, there really wasn't any significant probability that the two goons could represent a hazard to him, absent an equalizer like the 'nerve agent' he'd succumbed to before.

Still running at his upshifted tempo of 40, Jube gave the nearly mobile speedbumps-in-uniform a visual scan, top to bottom and back again. Gee, their mouths moved—they must be in process of saying words. That's nice. Their toys are nicer; I think I'll commandeer some of 'em until I get my own stuff back. One [bg=green]Stunning Attack[/bg] carefully calibrated skull-against-skull KRAK later, the two 'guards' were unconscious; their 'captive' stripped them down to their underwear and sorted through everything they'd been wearing. Reinforced kevlar straps with industrial-grade velcro closures? Must be their answer to duct tape. Each thug's wrists and ankles were quickly fastened together behind their backs. And I got plenty to spare for later, oboy! Nice military-style web harness they got here… don't like the weapons, so I'll just dismantle those with extreme prejudice… the harness itself, hmmm, looks like I can adjust its straps to the point where it's wearable…

The cheetah's recent room-search had revealed a number of interesting tools and instruments; he stowed them in his new harness, at least what he could manage to fit in the harness' pouches, anyway. Not as versatile a collection as I got in my vest, but it's better than nothing. Was there anything else to do here? Don't want to mess with the 'extraction equipment'—don't know anything about it, let alone enough to merit my poking an iron crowbar into the junction box. Keys, got the ones carried by both thugs, so they won't be escaping on their own. Commlinks, got what they had on them. Thugs hogtied on floor, the uniforms and e-t-c I took off of them are safely located out of their reach. And… yeah, that's it.

The fastest cat alive exited the extraction chamber and used the guards' own keys to lock them inside it. Then he began looking for that big ape, Vimes…

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GM

Which of course did not take long for the super-speeding hero!

They appeared to be in Vimes HQ...quite where it was a little hard to tell. It was windowless, and the only exit barred and bolted, apparently remotely operated, or at least remotely sealed. Nobody got in...or out...for now.

Vimes himself was sitting in his office, in what was surely the hub of his operation. Computer screens, and computers, where everywhere, with leads flowing organically like a web throughout the room - enough to get tangled up in, especially in Jubatus' four legged state.

Vimes himself was tapping away at several keyboards and having several conversations over his headphones.

"Yes yes, Doctor Moritz, it's all above board. I'm wiring you the cash now..."

"Professor Hudson, I'm sending you the spec's now...."

"Mr. Tribbs, if you could hurry up on the delivery...."

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The floor of Vimes' sanctum was a virtual thicket of cables, cords, and wires, all of them bound by gravity. Jubatus was not—or at least he had special dispensation while upshifted, such that gravity kind of looked the other way—and so he sped along walls and ceilings as he scoured the rooms in search of his 'utility vest'. He found the architect of his recent captivity first: Big damn gorilla—hand-to-hand is probably a mistake. Sure, I'm faster, but if he tags me at all, I'm toast. Now, how can I load the dice..?

Leaving the (literal) big ape to his phone calls, Jube explored the relatively few rooms and corridors, seeking vulnerabilities in the structure—and finding them! Behind an an unlocked door was the place's electrical nerve center, complete with fuses and circuit breakers and comically misnamed (as the fastest cat alive would demonstrate) Uninterruptible Power Supplies. In a fraction of a clock-second, every UPS in the room was disconnected and then some, as Jube's claws slashed through the lines which connected them to the building's internal power grid. Next, the feline spent a few precious clock-seconds wrestling with power-line conduits and the paraphernalia he'd commandeered from the so-called 'extraction chamber'; what he ended up with was a crude-but-functional 'kill switch', in the form of an outsized, spring-loaded dagger that was sharp enough to cut deep into feeder cables, plus a remote-controlled solenoid to make the dagger move when it received a particular signal. All Jube had to do was hit a switch on the harness he now wore, and the dagger would bite, shorting out the entire building!

Thus prepared, the cheetah rocketed back to Vimes, stopped at a doorway, downshifted to the normal tempo of 1, and shouted, "Hey, Vimes! Do your clients know you're into kidnapping and illicit genetic modifications?" Considering what Jube's voice sounded like, there was a decent chance that anyone talking to Vimes who heard and understood what the cheetah had just said, would think those words had been uttered by a victim of Vimesian gene-splicing… with amusing, and immediately relevant, consequences for their business relationship with the primate.

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GM

"Hey, Vimes! Do your clients know you're into kidnapping and illicit genetic modifications?"

"Ah the feline!" said Vimes, turning to face Juabtus. He did so slowly, carefully, and confidently....

Vimes was a Gorilla, no question about it. Over eight feet of primate power. Only his enlarged cranium gave any indication that something more than ape was in front of the cat.

He was dressed in a white costume, all armour plated but sparkling clean, complete with straps and helmet in one.

And in his hand, a white pistol that looked like it had come out of a 1960's show, pulsing with a faint green light.

"Welcome, welcome..." sniggered Vimes, as his computer screens beeped and whirred.

"I misjudged the restraints, that I will concede" he said "but I still have you in my grasp. For all your speed, which I fully intend to harness for myself, I was able to respond just as quickly once the alarm went up. Yes, indeed, my friend. There is no escape..."

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"I misjudged the restraints, that I will concede" he said "but I still have you in my grasp. For all your speed, which I fully intend to harness for myself, I was able to respond just as quickly once the alarm went up. Yes, indeed, my friend. There is no escape..."

Jubatus didn't buy Vimes' confident assertions. The feline had already gotten free of one set of restraints, after all. So why shouldn't he doubt the big ape's claim that there was no escape? It was just a matter of keeping his eyes and ears and nose open, and being ready to exploit any opportunities that might arise. Of course, that depended on his noticing those opportunities…

"Yeah, yeah, 'resistance is futile'. Since I'm stuck here, how about you talk to me, Vimes? What's your story—you're looking for revenge on the scum who turned you into an ape, or your change was a voluntary D-I-Y job and you're trying to boost yourself further, or what?"

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"I misjudged the restraints, that I will concede" he said "but I still have you in my grasp. For all your speed, which I fully intend to harness for myself, I was able to respond just as quickly once the alarm went up. Yes, indeed, my friend. There is no escape..."

Jubatus didn't buy Vimes' confident assertions. The feline had already gotten free of one set of restraints, after all. So why shouldn't he doubt the big ape's claim that there was no escape? It was just a matter of keeping his eyes and ears and nose open, and being ready to exploit any opportunities that might arise. Of course, that depended on his noticing those opportunities…

"Yeah, yeah, 'resistance is futile'. Since I'm stuck here, how about you talk to me, Vimes? What's your story—you're looking for revenge on the scum who turned you into an ape, or your change was a voluntary D-I-Y job and you're trying to boost yourself further, or what?"

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GM

"I'll spare you my life story" replied Vimes, studying Jubatus.

"Suffice to say my old life is over. Now, I have enough power in my hands to crush anyone I want. Even you. Yes, now it is I/b] who have the power...hahahaha!"

"You see, I was fed up of being a scrawny weakling. Fortunately, my prestigious intellect soon discovered a way to rectify that. Oh, genetics is not my main field. But I was able to set up an elaborate web of experts through my unparalleled computer expertise. A scientist in Geneva does this, and a geneticist in Hanover does that. Nobody is any the wiser, but the net result is I have an army of scientists and materials at my fingertips. I have even infiltrated the cybernetic vaults of the Labyrinth!"

"So now, I am a collector. My unknowing army has perfected a way of inserting animal DNA into human. Of course, the secret is only mine, and mine alone. Whilst this simian enhancement is perfectly adequate, I desire more. And so it occurred to me that your own DNA would be perfect! perfect!!! muahaha!"

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Jubatus paid close attention to the big ape's oration…

"You see, I was fed up with being a scrawny weakling. Fortunately, my prestigious intellect soon discovered a way to rectify that. … I was able to set up an elaborate web of experts through my unparalleled computer expertise. A scientist in Geneva does this, and a geneticist in Hanover does that. Nobody is any the wiser, but the net result is I have an army of scientists and materials at my fingertips. … So now, I am a collector. My unknowing army has perfected a way of inserting animal DNA into human. Of course, the secret is only mine, and mine alone. Whilst this simian enhancement is perfectly adequate, I desire more. And so it occurred to me that your own DNA would be perfect! perfect!!! muahaha!"

Upshift: Jubatus spent less than a clock-second thinking it over for a minute or so. Wonder-frigging-ful. I've got half a mind to let the schmuck splice my genes (Grue-made 'landmines' included!) into his DNA, and see how bad he gets screwed over. No point in warning Vimes, though; he'll just assume I'm making [bg=black]xxix[/bg] up to discourage him. Well, let's see if the V-man is willing to listen to reason…

"Okay, you've been abused by idiots; I know the feeling. What I don't know, is why a guy who's been screwed-over, would be eager to screw others over himself. What, you liked being bullied so much you just had to emulate the bullies' behavior? I got a better idea, which I can sum up in six words: The best revenge is living well. By your own admission, you've worked up a real effective administrative infrastructure for distributed scientific research, and using this, you've discovered how to splice foreign DNA into an adult life-form and have the foreign traits express themselves without any untidy side-effects like body-wide cancer or catastrophic cellular collapse. Either of those items, by itself, would be enough to let you write your own ticket! And once you're filthy rich, you can buy the bullies from out of petty cash—not to mention offer respectable sums for legitimate, voluntary access to any DNA structure you're interested in. So how about you lose the supervillain stuff and make yourself ridiculously wealthy by honest means, hrrm?"

As he spoke, the feline upshifted periodically, making himself plenty of seconds of time during which he memorized the sizes, positions, and so on, of every object in the room. The feline hoped he could persuade Vimes to give up on illegal activities; however, he was not sufficiently optimistic to think the gorilla would be willing to go along with such a program. So if the big ape thought Vengeance was more important than Obscene Wealth, Jube had to be prepped and ready for a fight…

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GM

"You mistake my desire with recklessness!" replied Vimes, actually laughing in a most peculiar, simian way, at Jubatus own monologue.

"Genetic manipulation is dangerous, and I have no intention of modifying my own without the data being passed through my network of scientists, probably several times. And please..." he said, leaning closer and snivelling his nose.

"I have equally no intention of taking all of your characteristics. The repulsive, degrading ones, such as your base need to crawl on all fours, would be a disgrace that no amount of positive genetic virtue could pay for".

"No no!" he continued, twirling his gun. "I intend to cherry pick...a chromosome here, a telome there. I did not get where I am today without months, years, of planning. Do not take me for some ill tempered, impulsive, megalomaniac. I play the slow game. Except, with you, the slow game need not even been slow! muahahaha!"

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  • 2 weeks later...

Looks like money is not on this clown's radar as a motivation, Jubatus thought to himself as Vimes monologued. Fine, but what is? Don't really want to go up against a gorilla with human intellect…

"I have equally no intention of taking all of your characteristics. The repulsive, degrading ones, such as your base need to crawl on all fours, would be a disgrace that no amount of positive genetic virtue could pay for".
Right: [bg=black]Xxxx[/bg] that noise. New plan: Rip this schmuck several new orifices, thought the (greatly annoyed) fastest cat alive.

"Except, with you, the slow game need not even been slow! muahahaha!"

As Vimes cackled a textbook example of a mad scientist's insane laugh, Jubatus upshifted and sent the signal to kill the power in this building. Gorilla-boy wasn't expecting the lights to die; Jubatus, however, was. He moved up onto the ceiling, positioning himself so that Vimes' torso was directly behind his toy gun… extracted a small, unimportant object from the web-harness he was currently wearing… and threw it at the raygun at a velocity somewhere over Mach 1.

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