Andrew Mackay - Infinity Claws

God bless Large Pharma.

And God bless Individimedia .

Jamie and Emily sat in the back of another limousine making its way to the arena.

The back passenger window displayed a news reporter, the smartly dressed man with a powerful voice named Santiago Sibald, in the middle of an Individimedia newscast.

‘Tensions between the United States and Russia escalated earlier today when foreign diplomat minister, Viktor Rabinovich, was rushed to hospital after taking ill in a restaurant in Minneapolis Two.”

Shaky camera footage showed medicians operating a stretcher drone into the back of an air ambulance. Viktor lay unconscious on the stretcher with breathing apparatus over his face. The medicians slid their patient into the helicopter and flew away from the concerned onlookers.

“Unconfirmed reports speculate that Rabinovich had been poisoned with a toxic nerve agent,” Santiago continued as the footage wiped away to reveal his face. “If these assertions prove to be true, it could spell disaster for diplomacy between the United States and Russia, and unravel all attempts at peace. For more on this story, make sure you link up to my Individimedia channel. This is Santiago Sibald.”

“Poppet,’ Emily said, swiping the screen shut with her hand. “Pay attention. We’re nearly here.”

Jelly sat in her cage, toying with the bars.

“Mom, look,” Jamie said, pointing at the windshield. The arena, and surrounding fuss, crept into view. “There it is.”

“Oh, wow,” Emily leaned forward and suddenly felt the enormity of the ordeal thunder through her body. “There are thousands of them.”

Remy and his mother reached the doors to the arena and turned around for a final wave.

“Bisoubisou, Bisoubisou,” the crowd chanted the clear favorite contender of the day.

Remy held up the cage for the crowd. Most couldn’t see what lay behind the bars. Only those in the first few rows caught a glimpse of the gray, petrified cat wanting to be whisked away from the commotion.

“Hey,” a blue-haired man shouted from the railings. “Cease this cruelty right now.”

“Oh my,” Dreenagh said to her camera-drone, “What’s going on here? Looks like someone is making a go for Remy.”

The blue-haired man ushered his gang through the crowd and hopped over the railings, waving his placard at them.

“Is that who I think it is?” Dreenagh commentated, truning to the drone. “It looks like Handax Skill. We’re in trouble, now.”

“Bring that animal back here,” Handax threatened Remy.

“No,” the kid shouted in his thick Russian accent, “Leave us alone.”

The crowd went silent as the man held up his placard. The sign on the front contained a picture of the USARIC logo with a red strike through it. Underneath it in big, bold letters read:

The crowd choked with silence as the man reached into his jacket.

“This is an outrage,” Handax shot Dreenagh a look of evil, and then turned to his gang. “We will not lie down until USARIC reverses its decision to use animals for space exploration.”

“Death to human scum who practice inhumane treatment of animals,” screamed a female PAAC member.

She threw her placard to the ground and removed her denim jacket, revealing a vest stuffed with dynamite and wires tightened around her waist. “Good people, we cannot allow this corporate terriful practice to affect animals. Free the animals.”

The audience froze still, afraid to move. The armed security detail pointed their weapons at them. “Person! Raise your arms in the air and slowly lower yourself to your knees.”

“No,” the girl gripped her utility chain and threatened to yank it. “We demand satisfaction. Remy Gagarin, you have the facility and audience to do the right thing. In front of all Indivimedia, open the cage and let your pet free. Do the right thing.”

Remy, not knowing how to react, turned to his mother for a response. She spat at the floor and lowered her shade-wear down the bridge of her nose.

“Remy, do not listen to them. They are imbeciles.”

Contrary to his mother’s command, Remy set the cage to the floor. He didn’t want to die in a terrorist attack.

“That’s right,” the girl said with a smile, “Now open the cage—”

“—Person,” the main security guard roared, “I repeat, release the chain and put your arms in the air.”

Dreenagh’s drone zoomed over to the commotion several feet in the air, joining several dozens of others.

Jamie slid his thumb across the back passenger window, activating it.

“Individimedia Zero-oh-Five,” Jamie said.

The sheen on the glass sparked and displayed a live feed from the drone. The ticker-tape underneath read “Live From The One Arena, Cape Claudius. Terrorist Siege Underway.”

“Mom, look!” Jamie pointed at the screen, sending her mother into a hissy fit of anxiety. “It’s that man with the blue hair who gave us Jelly.”

“Driver?” Emily asked.

“Yes?”

“Look at your feed.”

“Oh, no. Not them again.” The driver slammed on the brakes and caught the live feed in the corner of his rear view mirror. “They’re always causing trouble.”

“What if they find out we entered Jelly in the Star Cat Trials, mom?”

The driver reversed from the road and threw the stick shift into first gear. “What’s your son talking about?”

“We got Jelly from PAAC,” Emily asked. “I know that man with the blue hair. Does this happen often?”

“Yes, all the time,” he chuckled and floored the gas pedal.

“What are you doing? You’re not taking us closer to them, are you?”

“Nothing to be worried about.”

The female animal rights terrorist realized that Remy would never open his pet’s cage. Handax pulled out a pistol, scaring the crowd back a few feet.

“In the name of science and humanity, if you choose not to let animals live in peace, then we want no part of the planet.”

He placed the barrel of the gun to his head and threatened to shoot himself.

“Person, please,” the security guard said. “We’ll save you the bother. Lower your gun.”

“The statement needs to be made.” The female activist turned to the crowd and then up at the drones. They buzzed around, trying to get a good view of the stand-off. “Do you hear us, USARIC? You’re responsible for this …”

The female protester snarled at the camera and yanked the chain away from her vest.

“Everybody down.”

The security guards hit the deck. The crowd did the same, trampling over one another, causing some serious injuries – which surely wasn’t PAAC’s intention, after all.

KA-SNAP-PAP!

Instead of detonating, several party poppers and harmless incendiaries exploded into the sky, in and out of the hovering drones.

The girl laughed as loud as she could and dropped to her knees.

The fake sticks of dynamite released the pretty array of fireworks into the sky.

The security guards made a beeline for her and scooped her up from the floor. They escorted Handax off the premises to a wave of whoops and hollers of approval from the crowd.

Dreenagh looked at her camera-drone and breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, you saw it here first.”

“You haven’t heard the last from us,’ Handax yelled as the guards marched him away from the crowd. “Freedom for the animals!”

Jamie and Emily’s limousine rolled up to the red carpet at the front of the arena.

The crowd bent over the railings trying to catch a glimpse of the people inside the car.