Hop To It - Eclipse 7

[Iota]

Meanwhile

Iota was pleased to discover something else he enjoyed: the open road and breakneck speeds.

Nature was full of quick and speedy things. The cheetah, capable of sprinting faster than any other land animal. The peregrine falcon, capable of diving at blinding speeds. The sailfish, faster than some torpedoes. And, of course, Mobians like the ones he called his friends were able to reach staggering speeds as well.

While he had no hair or fur for the wind to blow through, nor a gut to feel the acceleration in, his wheels felt good against the pavement and the blur of his surroundings was fascinating to watch.

He also, by virtue of not being a vehicle, didn’t have to obey traffic laws and could go as fast as he wanted.

Analytics: Faulty logic. Definition of ‘vehicle’ broad.

Well, as long as Mister Heyu never asked how fast he was going, he would never have to tell him. It wasn’t as if Iota was endangering anyone. His brakes were fully functional, and if they somehow failed, he could easily jump over an obstacle by unfolding his legs quickly. In the meantime, Iota pushed himself and explored how fast he could go.

Miss Humi and Mister Prower were quite talented; Iota had been built with no particular function in mind, and so they’d given him a little bit of everything, it seemed. Iota suspected that his cruising speed of 150 mph was a gift from Tails, who was constantly improving his technology to push it faster and faster, likely to keep up with Sonic.

Iota had had limited interaction with Sonic the Hedgehog--something still buzzed in his programming when he thought about him, but it was growing easier to ignore over time--but Tails spoke of him often, and he painted a picture of someone who embodied the winds themselves. Sonic lived for speed.

Iota greatly enjoyed taking slow nature walks and enjoying the peace of nature, but he could appreciate speed as well. And the landscapes as he drove were gorgeous.

He left Central City over an hour ago. He encountered few other vehicles out here, mostly long-haul trucks, and so there was very little keeping him from metaphorically laying on the accelerator.

Central City was built in the lowlands, but this current highway wove through mountain passes. Animals did not venture near to the road very often, sadly, but Iota still saw the occasional deer. His motor was quiet enough that they did not run when he approached, allowing him to get a few pictures.

This was nice. It really was.

The time was 13:46 when the vegetation began to grow sparse as the terrain turned rocky. Iota checked his map and slowed down, looking for exits to Pumpkin Hill.

There were not many exits to Pumpkin Hill. There was one, coming up, but it was warned to be unpaved and led to a cordoned-off camping area, which while interesting and noted as a possibility to suggest to Heyu and Humi in the future, was not what he wanted. He wanted to see the real Pumpkin Hill, the one that was allegedly some sort of entire unique biome poorly understood by science. Iota wasn’t sure how accurate that truly was, but it would undoubtedly be a sight to see.

This way to the Great Pumpkin Spires!

Iota scanned the sign as he passed it, slowing down further as he considered his options. He came to a complete stop at the indicated exit. This road was paved, two-laned, and judging by his estimates led directly into the center of the Hills. It was also not present on his map.

…Well, he’d assumed that it was a recent printing, but perhaps not. Although the road itself didn’t look new either. It was cracked and bleached nearly white by the sun.

Curious.

Iota consulted his map again, before shrugging. It went where he wanted, and that was enough for him.

The time was 13:58.

----------------------------------

[Tails]

Oh yeah, now this was a good time. Taking the Tornado apart and putting her back together, better than before. It was nostalgic and relaxing, and just the right amount of challenging.

Gamma’s recompiling--because copying still didn’t sit right--was proceeding as expected, and was on track to finish in… four weeks. It was very dense code, but what did he expect from a sapient mind? A better computer would be able to do it faster, with better cooling--maybe water-cooled--but it would also require more power than his lab was able to provide. If Humi were here he could probably get a chaos drive off her and rig it up to give his PC a boost, but she wasn’t.

They were probably in Central City right now, if Tails remembered correctly. Maybe once he’d finished the upgrades he’d take it for a spin and show off a little. He’d started with the walker configuration first, but he also planned to add a racecar function. Tails had designed the current iteration of the Tornado to be able to hover well enough to land without the need of wheels, but he could probably squeeze them in somewhere. Humi had a knack for packing as much stuff into a space as possible, maybe she’d be able to help…

Tails chuckled to himself. He just knew that once Humi saw the Tornado Walker she’d want to make one of her own, which would be a sight to see.

“Hm,” he said to himself, thinking out loud. “The Tornado’s frame is a little fragile… it was built for speed more than anything, maybe… Maybe it would be better if I started from scratch with a new vehicle.”

It would probably be for the best. The Tornado was very specialized; trying to retrofit it like this, it would always be worse than a vehicle designed to transform from the word go. He could make one all-rounder vehicle that transformed, and then restore the Tornado 2 to its original state… he would call it… the Cyclone. “That’s a cool name!”

Yeah… the Tornado was always Sonic’s plane, anyway. Tails loved it to death, but… maybe it was time to have a plane all his own. One where he didn’t need to ask Sonic’s permission before making major alterations--

“Oh.” Tails looked over the mess of parts around him sheepishly. “Oops. Guess I got ahead of myself.”

He knew Sonic wouldn’t mind… but it still felt wrong, now that he’d remembered himself.

…Tails shook his head and started drawing up plans for the Cyclone. Thankfully he had a second computer to make use of, even if the one Gamma was on was more powerful.

More computer work. Yaayyy…

Ugh. Tails shook his head. Building was the most fun, but this was a necessary part of it. He already knew what he wanted, so he could just get through the planning phase quickly and he’d be able to start on the Cyclone’s frame by this evening… Maybe sooner if he fudged the details… he’d need to make a prototype anyway before doing the real thing, so he could afford to be a little messy.

Oh, he was getting excited now!

Tails idly flipped on the TV, just for the sake of some light background noise, and got to work.

Thirty minutes later, Tails was in the middle of designing a variable-calibre cannon that would be the walker-mode’s primary weapon when his ears flicked towards the TV.

“...Sonic…”

“Hm? What?” Tails pulled his eyes away from the screen, blinking. Sonic was on the TV. He smiled, wondering what he’d gotten into this time… but the smile slipped when the camera switched to a picture of G.U.N. soldiers… and that was not a very flattering picture of Sonic.

He turned up the volume.

“...nted for the robbery of an item from the Federal Reserve Bank, which the Guardian Units of Nations have now revealed to us was a Chaos Emerald,” the anchorwoman explained. “G.U.N. Major Roark Citadel had this to say after Sonic’s escape from custody this morning:”

The feed switched to a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair in a tight buzz cut and a thick mustache. He wore a uniform that hung loosely on his thin frame, with a medal in place of prominence on his chest. He had no beard to match his mustache, letting an angular chin jut out.

“That hedgehog has been a thorn in G.U.N.’s side for years, but until recently he was tolerated, as his battles with Dr. Robotnik typically took place in the wilderness. The Chaos Incident proved that their conflicts were a clear and present danger to the United Federation, and now he’s showing his true colors,” the Major spat. “Rest assured, we have our best after him. The Federation doesn’t need vigilantes to make a mess of things. G.U.N. has it handled.”

Tails stared as the anchorwoman took back over, the words turning garbled somewhere between his ears and his brain.

Sonic… was wanted by the military? How? Why? He robbed a bank? No, he would never! To steal an Emerald? …Well, maybe if they needed it to go Super, but Tails hadn’t heard of anything big enough happening to warrant that. And Sonic was smart enough to ask first, he wouldn’t steal unless he had no choice.

And now G.U.N. was after him… Sonic was amazing, but he was only one hedgehog. The entire country’s military might be more than he could handle.

Tails slowly went back to work. They hadn’t caught him yet… but he kept an eye on the TV, just in case.

And he worked a little faster on the Cyclone. Just in case. He really hoped it was ready in time.

---------------------------------

[Iota]

The time was… hm. The time was 14:52. Iota had been driving this road for nearly an hour, and in that time he had seen not a single other vehicle. It was also, inexplicably, dusk.

Twilight. Sunset. The sky was orange. It was only 14:53. At this time, it was still appropriate to say ‘good afternoon’ instead of ‘good evening.’

Alarming. There were a limited number of solutions to this. The first and simplest was that his chronometer was broken. However, Diagnostics had returned no error reports. He was fully functional; unless Diagnostics was also broken, but if that were the case he’d have noticed a whole host of other problems before now.

The lack of other vehicles was grating. Was this road meant to be closed? Surely it would have been blocked off if that were the case?

Something touched Iota’s back.

His wheels stuttered, and he swivelled his head around to look behind him. Nothing. There was nothing but the road behind him, and ahead of him. Nothing but the road. No other drivers.

…Why was the sky orange?

Iota sped up. He wanted to get there soon, because something was sending error reports to Adaptive Processing. It consisted of emotion packets he hadn’t yet encountered. Going over them right now would constitute distracted driving, though, so it would have to wait.

He passed a cactus on the side of the road, the first non-grass plant life he’d seen since turning onto this route. A cow skull was hanging from each of its arms.

“Ominous.”

Sensors picked up the sound of engines from behind, which was almost a relief… though then again, Iota was currently moving at nearly 200 mph. This road was very long and straight; illegal drag racing?

There was nothing behind him. Iota checked, cameras at maximum zoom.

Something touched him. It felt like it grabbed his front left wheel, and nearly sent him spinning out. There was nothing there.

“Alarm: What is happening?” Analytics returned nothing. Diagnostics returned nothing. Tactical returned: Swerve right now!

Iota swerved to the right, nearly running up against the guard rails. He could hear something surge past him, but he could see nothing!

“Error! Error!”

This made no sense. What was happening? Iota just wanted to take a day trip to Pumpkin Hill, and take in the alleged--

--Haunted biome. Illogical. It was called that because it was home to bats and vultures and other spooky animals. It had a spooky church. But ghosts weren’t real.

Iota heard heavy breathing, and he nearly wrecked right there. He swivelled his head around to find the source, and found nothing.

Wait. There. In the far distance, behind him. A vehicle. It was indistinct, but he zoomed in.

“Optics at maximum gloom--zoom.” He misspoke. Why?

More unidentified emotive packets arrived and were put aside. He focused on the vehicle. It was… black. A car, of a model popular 70 years ago, as determined by the general style of the vehicle. Exact model unknown. Current speed: 210 mph. Steadily gaining.

The mountains cast it in shadow briefly, allowing Iota to see through the windshield. 

There was no one in the driver’s seat.

“Error. Error!”

The car began speeding up.

“TERROR! TERROR!”

Iota faced forward once more and began to pour on the speed. His artificial Emerald battery spun in its chamber, and Iota’s speedometer ticked up.

He had to get out of this place.

Tactical: Swerve left!

Another invisible force tried to ram him from behind, and Iota barely dodged. “Terror: Begone spectre! I have done no harm!” His speaker crackled, stressed.

His audio intake picked up sinister laughter, and he drove even faster.

The clouds moved to reveal the moon. It was 15:05, and the sky was still orange. One of the Pumpkin Spires was silhouetted by the moon, but Iota was not currently able to enjoy it.

Faster. 300mph. 350. 400. Warning: Further speed will cause undue stress to wheel axles. Overridden. The car was still gaining. 500--

Iota’s optics dissolved into static, and loud, raucous laughter consumed his audio. His speaker cut out with a hiss, and he realized that he’d been vocalizing.

No. He’d been screaming.

Systems errors filled his HUD--Tactical not responding--Warning! Warning! Error!--New emotion packet ready for review--CRASH IMMINENT--Terror!--

Iota’s optics cleared and all of a sudden the malfunctions began clearing up. False flags were discarded by his internal antivirus and control returned to his servos.

Did I get away?

Full vision returned, and Iota felt relief. Then he saw a wall coming up. Rough stone, perfectly vertical cliff face.

The goodnik braked, cutting all power to his motors, and swerved as hard as he could. “Too fast! Too fast!” He grabbed at the soil--soil, not concrete--and dug in, metal fingers carving trenches even as Diagnostics warned that his shoulders were trying to come out of their sockets. He bled speed, as much as he could, but--

CRASH

Impact. If Iota had been organic, the result would have been an unfortunate splat. The actual result, by all rights, should have instead been a crunch. But he managed to slow down just enough.

Iota’s systems force-rebooted on impact. When he came to, he looked up at a darkened sky.

Battery at 62%, recharging slowly. The time was 19:50.

“...Expletive: WHAT THE FU--khsss”

“Buddy?”

Iota jumped to his feet and whirled on the speaker, taking stock of the situation as he did. He was atop a cliff of brown stone, and had just been leaning against a wall. Pumpkin Spires surrounded him on all sides of the horizon. The stone wall was lined with doors, all gray-painted wood. One of them, with a skull motif, was pushed open, and out leaned--

“Surprise: Big?!” Iota lowered his arm, halfway through unfolding into his grenade launcher. It was just as well--he didn’t have ammo anymore. “What are you doing here?”

Big stood there, looking just as perplexed as Iota felt. The cat looked at the ground, then the sky, then back to Iota. “I don’t… I don’t know?” he said, mystified.

Something rattled in the distance. Tactical returned a file consisting entirely of punctuation, and Iota decided that Big’s presence here deserved no scrutiny. “Whatever the case, I’m glad to see you.” His battery needed to charge. “May I hunker down in your shelter here for a while?”

------------------------------------

[Mecha]

Later

It was waiting for hours before the Doctor returned.

As a robot, Mecha Sonic did not get… bored, per se. It anticipated things, and expected, but when it was not currently engaged in carrying out orders, it could simply… step away from the world, in a way. It entered a partially-aware state that it surmised to be analogous to sleep, or perhaps meditation, where it did not think and simply waited for an outside stimulus before returning to full cognizance.

The fact that this state allowed it to pass the time without thinking about how the Doctor would react to its exploits was immaterial. It was simply more efficient not to run at full power when it had nothing to do.

It also didn’t think about the small girl it left alone in the desert. It had no reason to think about that. Adaptive processing kept bringing that information up for analysis, but it was dismissed as irrelevant every time. It wasn’t important.

The hidden base intranet had pinged it because the Doctor had entered the base, so Mecha moved to take position alongside the central console, the center of both the pyramid and the base’s operations.

The Doctor entered the room looking disgruntled. He did not even spare Mecha a glance as he moved immediately to the console and brought up a holographic display. “...Hm? An alert?”

Doctor Eggman had multiple subsystems monitoring various news networks, to save and catalogue any mention of himself, Sonic, and other relevant topics.

“...Sonic? Arrested?! For stealing a…” The Doctor mumbled to himself. Mecha waited patiently. “...No. No, I think not. Well done, Shadow.”

Mecha’s fingers creaked.

“Shadow is making a fool of G.U.N. and Sonic all at once… I am impressed.” Eggman sat back, steepling his fingers. “...What is on the ARK that requires the Chaos Emeralds? It must be incredible… something my grandfather worked on, perhaps?” He hummed thoughtfully. “But how to acquire the Emeralds? I found one…”

Mecha found one.

“...And Shadow stole another,” Eggman continued. “Two more are under G.U.N. custody. Hrmf, how am I going to get those? Not to mention three still unaccounted for.”

“Two.”

“Two, hm…” The Doctor blinked behind his goggles and turned to Mecha. “What?”

Mecha held out the white Emerald.

Eggman gaped, shocked. Internally, Mecha felt something ease. Then he snatched the gem out of its hands.

“Give me that! You’ll scratch it!”

Mecha… did not visually respond. It simply lowered its arm.

The Doctor held the white Emerald up before the light, turning it this way and that. “...It seems to be the real thing… What military force did you agitate this time, Mecha?”

It did not respond.

The Doctor tucked it away in his coat. “Well, that simplifies things,” he said, paying Mecha no further attention. The robot’s head lowered a fraction. The Doctor turned back to the console and minimized the news feed. “Before anything else, I need to access the ARK… oho?” He typed quickly. “It seems Shadow has already arrived. I’ve been sent a signal from the ARK, containing… blueprints for an experimental teleportation device?! Oh, no, I see, it’s of the sort that requires you to have a receiving device at the location. Less useful… but it will provide a means to enter.”

The Doctor stepped away from the computer and popped his knuckles. “For anyone else, building a teleporter would take weeks even with the proper plans. For me? Eh, I’ll give an hour. Hohoho…”

Mecha waited for further orders. When none were forthcoming, it turned to find something else to do. The Doctor seemed to have forgotten it was here.

It began to leave, when its audial sensors picked up a minute sound.

…and again. Mecha pivoted, pointing its weapons at the source of the noise: a vent up near the ceiling, meant for cooling the computer systems in this room. The noise happened again, and it began charging a shot.

Eggman turned at the whine. “Mecha! What in blazes do you think you’re doing?!”

“Intruder--”

The vent groaned.

“That’s not an intruder, you idiot! The vents are just settling! It’s much colder in the desert at night, and that vent draws in air from outside. It’s normal!”

But…

“Get out of here before you break something!”

Mecha stood motionless for several long, long seconds. Then it folded its gun away and left, not looking back.