Dane Monday Saves Christmas (With Help) Read online

  He was so concentrated on keeping his temper and not turning around to attack the Santa that he was caught completely unaware when someone grabbed him and pulled him into an alley. As he was pushed against the wall, he decided now he could finally let loose. He raised his fists, then frowned. He recognized his attacker.

  "It's you!" said Szandor in confusion.

  "Shhh," said the other man, peering toward the alley entrance.

  "You're that Day of the Week guy, uh, Dave Tuesday!" said Szandor. He relaxed, as he had met this man before. He was weird, but at least Szandor knew he could easily take him in a fight.

  "That's Dane Monday," said Dane. "But yes, it's me! I didn't know you would be here! Did you get a good look at that Santa? Did he attack you?"

  "The charity Santa?" said Szandor. "No. He's just a volunteer charity worker. He doesn't attack people. He could be drunk, I guess, but otherwise they're not violent. It was more a concern of whether I was going to attack him."

  "Oh, so you know already!" said Dane with relief.

  "Know what?"

  "That he's not Santa!" said Dane.

  "Uh, yeah, I know he's not the real Santa Claus," said Szandor. "I know there's no real Santa Claus..."

  "Well, maybe there is," said Dane, thinking back to the conversation earlier in the night, "but that's not important right now! I'm saying he's not a real... what was it you said? He's not a charity Santa!"

  Szandor stepped toward the alley entrance and carefully looked toward the Santa. The charity worker was still standing in the same spot, endlessly ringing the bell and repeating, "Ho ho ho!" even though there was no one near him. Szandor admitted that was sort of weird. "So what are you thinking," said Szandor. "Mugger? Gangster? I think I could be down with hitting a mugger in the face on Christmas Eve. That might even make my holiday."

  "That Santa is no mugger," said Dane with surprising gravity.

  "Then what?" said Szandor in exasperation. "Do I have to guess what he is?"

  "He's a robot!" said Dane.

  Szandor stared at Dane in disbelief for a moment. "I think I liked it better when I was guessing."

  "He is! Look at the very exact and perfect repetition of his ringing! Like clockwork! And listen to his voice! The same audio each time!"

  "That dude could just be really into being exact," said Szandor. "Like some obsessive compulsive thing. Or he's... I don't know, some mental illness. That doesn't make him a robot. That's actually kind of insulting to him."

  "Those are just the more obvious signs," said Dane. "Under that cheap suit and beard, he's just a mechanical automaton. I'm sure of it."

  "Look, I know you got your own thing going on and stuff, and that's cool," said Szandor, "but I just really don't see the robot thing."

  "I'll just say that I have experience with this. Tell you what, if I can reveal that it is a robot, can you take it down? I know you can handle yourself in aggressive situations. I normally am not big on violence, but since it's just a robot..."

  "Whoa, we're going straight to robot killing?" said Szandor. "That's an abrupt change. And I'm not really equipped for fighting, I just came from my brother's apartment..."

  "Oh, so you're not armed," said Dane disappointedly. "I guess I might have something in my bag..."

  "Oh, I'm armed alright," said Szandor. He had a lead pipe down the back of his jacket in a makeshift sheath stitched into the lining. It was a shorter and thinner lead pipe, but it was far more damaging than his fists. "Too many damn monsters in this town. And maybe I'm worried I've pissed off the wrong people."

  "I know the feeling!" said Dane, but Szandor guessed their experiences were far different.

  "But I'm not carrying anything big or very lethal," said Szandor. "I mean, robots are steel and sturdy, right?"

  "You'd be surprised how prone to injury the average robot is! They're rarely built for endurance! You'll do fine!" said Dane, patting Szandor on the back. "Right, so when you see it's a robot, come out swinging... or hitting.. or whatever's appropriate!"

  Dane then launched himself out of the alley toward the robot before Szandor had a chance to say anything. It's a really vague plan, thought Szandor, but I guess I've worked with worse. He pulled the lead pipe out and crouched at the alley entrance.

  Walking quickly toward the Santa, Dane had the luck of coming at him from the side. The Santa was still endlessly ringing his bell and chanting "Ho ho ho!" but there was no one near him, so he stared out into the emptiness of the street, almost looking sad and depressed. But Dane knew better.

  The Santa began to turn as Dane trotted toward him. Brushing by him, Dane yanked at the beard and hat, pulling them off as he ran a few paces away from the red-clad form. The removal of these items revealed a smooth head and a blank face. The Santa had a blank metal head not unlike a department store mannequin. Someone had given it real-looking eyes and painted the top of its face flesh colored, but had been lazy and did not paint the top of its head once hidden by the hat nor the mouth section hidden by the beard.

  "Look, it's a robot! Clearly a robot!" shouted Dane as he stood away from it, still holding the fake beard and hat.

  The robot not-Santa turned to look at Dane. Something clicked behind its eyes, those pupils now looking very inhuman.

  "DANE MONDAY IDENTIFIED," said the robot.

  "Oh, do we... uh, know each other?" said Dane.

  The robot raised both its arms. This meant that one arm looked threatening while the other was simply ringing the bell at a higher height.

  Then there was the sound of footsteps running across pavement in the night, the sound becoming louder. The robot paused for a second and looked as if it was going to turn. Then there was a loud clang as Szandor's pipe struck its head. The metal robot head went flying, finally coming down loudly somewhere across the street. At the robot Santa's neck were a collection of sparking wires. The bell stopped ringing.

  "Did I kill it? Is it dead?" shouted Szandor, hopped up on adrenaline. "Do I need to hit it again?"

  Dane squinted his eyes at the body of the robot. Aside from the sparking wires, there was no activity. The arms were frozen in a raised position. Without the head, Dane had no way of knowing if it was shouting death threats at him. He slowly stepped closer, ready to jump if it made any movement. Finally he reached out with his hand and pushed. The robot body fell to the ground with a noise muffled by the felt of the cheap Santa suit.

  "Yeah, we're safe," said Dane, bending down to examine the robot.

  "I didn't mean to behead it," said Szandor, still hyped on adrenaline and looking down at his lead pipe. "I thought maybe I'd just dent the head or bash in its skull... robot skull, I guess. But man, did you see how much air time I got on that head?"

  Dane nodded absentmindedly as he unbuckled the robot's suit and opened up the access panel. "So what do we have in here? Motor systems, processor. No notable armaments. This all looks very familiar but it's still not my area of expertise. I could call Jaya, but it's Christmas Eve, she needs a night off. Maybe if I could... hmmm..."

  "Did you need me to actually answer any of that mumbling?" said Szandor. He was looking in the charity cauldron. He found it surprisingly devoid of money other than a few coins. He found that the red Santa sack contained a few wrapped presents. There were no recipient written on the tags. "Looks like Christmas came early for me!" said Szandor with a smile as he started tearing the wrapping of one.

  Dane rubbed his chin. "Robot Santa, just what were you for? What was the plan? I don't think the charities simply decided to automate the donation process for the holiday. What were you supposed to do?"

  "Blow stuff up," said Szandor.

  "What?" said Dane, looking up from the robot.

  Szandor was holding a half ripped present, revealing a strange device. It had buttons and wires, but also a display where it could show a digital time. There were different colored wires, including the dreaded red wire. "I'm not tech geek like you, but I'm pretty sure I know an explosive devi
ce when I see one. There are half a dozen other presents in here. I'm pretty sure Robot Santa was going to blow stuff up. A lot of stuff."

  "But why?" said Dane. "There's nothing around here!"

  "My brother lives around here, there's not nothing around here."

  "A good friend of mine lives around here too," said Dane. "I meant there are no worthwhile targets for a..."

  "Robot Santa?" suggested Szandor.

  "I was thinking Mad Bomber," said Dane. "Someone was controlling the robot. But why?"

  "What if it's not the only robot?" said Szandor. "This time of year, charity Santas are on every damn street corner. A few more robot ones and nobody would notice... well, except the real charity Santas, and they might be too nice to complain about losing territory."

  "Street corners all over the city..." said Dane, realization dawning on him. "It's a massive attack on Christmas Eve while everyone is enjoying the holiday! Someone's trying to destroy the city!"

  "Really?" said Szandor. "People try to do that?"

  "They have in my experience," said Dane.

  "But this wouldn't destroy the city," said Szandor. "Bombs might hurt some people and collapse a few buildings, but most of the city would survive. You'd need so many of these Santas that they'd be pretty obvious. We'd notice an excess of charity Santas."

  "It's worse than I thought!" said Dane. "They're trying to hurt Christmas!"

  "That's worse than the city being destroyed?" said Szandor, but he felt like Dane wasn't seriously listening to him.

  "Explosions all over the city, chaos for the holidays! Someone wants to attack the spirit of Christmas itself!"

  "I... guess? Are we really doing this?" said Szandor.

  "We have to find them and stop them!" said Dane. "Are you with me, Szandor?"

  "Sure...? I guess I don't have anything else going on tonight."

  "Then we need to find the villain's lair and stop them!" said Dane. Then he looked down into the guts of the Santa Robot. He pulled out one piece of machinery. "This is the transponder! It's what sends and receives the signal from its home base. We can use this to find its headquarters!"

  "Does it have a map or GPS we can use?" said Szandor, looking at the device in Dane's hands. It looked like someone's wifi router with some of the wires torn out.

  "No, but I have a signal tracker I can connect to it which will lead us back to its source!" said Dane, rifling around in his bag.

  "And you just happen to be carrying a signal tracker with you?" said Szandor.

  "Yes! Why, don't you carry stuff like that?" said Dane, trying to figure out which wire to connect to the transponder, finally deciding to connect all the wires and hope for the best.

  "I feel like I'm in some outlandish dream," said Szandor.

  "Yes, an outlandish dream where we save Christmas!" said Dane.

  "I may strangle you by the end of the night," said Szandor.

  "It looks like the signal is coming from someplace up in Asher!" said Dane. He picked up the sack full of bombs. "Let's get a cab!"

  "We're taking bombs with us? Why are we taking bombs with us?"

  "So no one else can use them of course!" said Dane.

  "I don't trust you with bombs," said Szandor, grabbing the sack from Dane and throwing it over his shoulder. "I don't think we should be carrying explosive devices, but if one of us is carrying them, I think it should be me. I might be reckless, but I think you're crazy."

  "Ah, a common opinion," said Dane.

  4

  The cab let them off in Asher at some time after two in the morning. It had taken longer than usual, the cab moving slowly through the snow covered streets. During this time the cab driver explained his own Hindu beliefs under the waxing holiday of another religious system, something Dane listened to with interest and Szandor ignored. The driver didn't question the giant sack of presents and Szandor made damn sure he didn't suspect there was actually a large amount of bombs riding around in his cab. Szandor also hoped there wasn't a remote activation for the bombs, or else all three of them and the cab would be vaporized.

  Dane paused to pay the cab driver, so Szandor was the first to step out of cab, lugging the sack full of bombs. Dane found Szandor staring up at the building, a confused look on his face.

  "Are you sure this is the place?" said Szandor.

  Dane pulled out his signal tracker. He punched a button, heard a strange electronic sound, nodded, then put it away. "Yup, this is the place!"

  "It's a cat food warehouse," said Szandor.

  A giant neon sign over the building said Meow Brand Cat Food in dull red letters. White flashing letters lit up the brand slogan nom Nom NOM! periodically. Other than the sign, it looked like a quiet building, marred by the years, graffiti on some of the walls. However, there were trucks at the loading docks and it looked like some of the docks were open, a strange sight for late at night on Christmas Eve. They did not see any workers, however.

  "Yes, warehouses are a popular haunt for villains!" said Dane. "Usually more for mad scientists and master criminals, but the odd demon or diabolist will use an old warehouse too! Though I guess it's a popular lair type in general - kind of the all purpose default. But if we're here, then odds are it's a mad scientist or master criminal! I guess either of them could have a grudge against Christmas! We'll find out soon!"

  "I can't tell which bothers me more, that everything with you has some strong internal logic, like it's all a well constructed game - like, 'of course mad scientists are popular renters of warehouses'," said Szandor, "or the fact that you are like totally getting off on all this. The next time someone accuses me of having a danger fetish, I'm going to give them your number and tell them to hang out with you for a while before judging me."

  "I think you've just lost your zest for life," said Dane. "You have your own dangerous situations. You can either enter them in fear or you enter them in wonder. But either way, we both know we're going to be involved, right?"

  Szandor scowled, but there was some sense to what he said. "So how are we going to be involved in this one?"

  Dane pointed to one of the open loading docks, the entrance unguarded. "I find that when I see an open door, I use it."

  "And into certain doom we go," said Szandor. He threw the sack of bomb-presents over his other shoulder and pulled out his lead pipe.

  Dane climbed up onto the loading dock, looking into the building. Though there was no snow inside the warehouse, it was no warmer than the outside. Dane wondered how any of the late night workers or henchmen of the mystery mad scientist or master criminal would be comfortable. Then he realized that wasn't a concern.

  "Robots!" said Szandor. Dane immediately clapped his hand over Szandor's mouth and pulled the younger man to the side behind some crates. A pair of robots stomped past them, heading to the loading dock. They grabbed a crate and walked it back into the warehouse.

  The two heroes looked over the crates at the rest of the warehouse. From here they could see the whole setup. Robots walked to and fro, performing various tasks, usually lifting and moving, but a few were interfacing with consoles. None were dressed to look like Santa Claus. While a few had green elf hats over their siren-like heads, they were generally unadorned. Their gray metal forms only had a single designation: R-39.

  In the center of the warehouse was the main staging area. One half of it was devoted to a large red sleigh. It was much like the traditional Santa's sleigh, but modified with technology and violent intent. There were exhausts and engines that were more similar to hover jets or rockets, as well as a swivel gun turret on the back. Missiles were attached to its underside. The reindeer in front of it were clearly mechanical, showing off their own jet engines. The robots were loading a large bag of gifts into the sleigh.

  The other half of the warehouse's staging area was a gigantic bank of monitors and consoles. As Dane and Szandor watched, they saw maps of the city showing about two dozen locations. Dane guessed these were the other Robot Santas. This was
clearly where they were controlled from. And in front of the consoles was a high backed chair - Dane was unsurprised, villains always loved high backed chairs. When the chair spun around so that the villain could survey the work on the sleigh, Dane knew him in an instant. He was wearing a heavy Santa suit without the hat or fake white beard, but Dane still knew that dark beard and stern expression.

  "Professor Honnenheim," said Dane icily.

  "Professor?" said Szandor. "You know this guy from college?"

  Dane shook his head. "We have tangled before. He wants to take over the city. He's attempted it a few times but failed. Don't you remember the North Egan destruction? He's partly responsible."

  "That was him?" said Szandor in sudden anger. "Alright, this guy is going down!" Szandor began standing up, his grip tight on the lead pipe.

  Dane grabbed Szandor. "Hold on, there are R-39s everywhere! We need a plan! Or some semblance of one!"

  "I've got a sack full of bombs," suggested Szandor.

  "That's good, that will help," said Dane, rubbing his chin. "But how to stop him without the robots destroying us?"

  "Get real lucky?" said Szandor.

  "Wait, I've got it," said Dane. "How much do you trust me?"

  5

  Professor Honnenheim watched the displays. His Robot Santas were all in place. The sleigh was nearly loaded. Soon he would be able to start his assault. He knew it would go down in history as the Avalon Christmas Assault or the New Avalon Holiday Tragedy. It wouldn't get him any farther on his plan to take over the city, but it would put a big dent in this infernal holiday. Goodwill toward men indeed, he scoffed.

  Suddenly all the screens popped up with the same message. It was echoed by the voices of the R-39 units all around him. "DANE MONDAY IDENTIFIED."

  Honnenheim swung around in his chair to see the familiar form of Dane Monday in front of him - smug face, satchel, and today wearing an ugly Christmas Sweater under his coat. Dane stood only a few paces from the chair, the robots knowing Dane was a special case and waiting for Honnenheim's orders to fire. Dane held in his hands one of the Christmas present bombs.