The elevator slid open to reveal Angus, bracing the door with a foot, ready for a quick escape. He had arrived in the fifth-floor boardroom, where six imposing characters consulted at a long conference table.
A four-fingered man with bluish skin sat beside an appallingly hairy fellow who could almost be described as having white fur. A tall figure in a hooded robe and dark, round sunglasses sat sideways to stretch their long legs across the floor. At the same time, a woman dressed in flowing orange silk sipped from a smoking bowl. A second woman wearing a motorcycle jacket and a thick brass-studded collar picked her teeth with a long nail. Lucas reclined with his feet on the table, no longer in his Mendax Persona, all traces of his recent battle gone.
"Ugh, another kid. The place is infested," Lucas waved his hand at the elevator dismissively. "Wait a second, don’t I know you from somewhere?"
"Unfortunately, I’m related to you," the elevator door bumped Angus’s foot, attempting to close.
This took Lucas a little off guard. He lowered his feet and produced a fake, greasy smile. "Angus, it's been so long! You didn’t meet me under Benthos. I was so worried about you!"
"I wasn’t dumb enough to walk into that trap," said Angus, "What you’re doing here is wrong. You can’t own music or the right to compose!"
"Angus," Lucas coaxed, "Please try to see it my way. I want you here with me, as my son. There is another side to this story that promises a bright future for all things musical. The power of melody must be controlled by those who have proven skills as rulers. My esteemed guests will become the most powerful leaders on the globe. You are witness to a grand shift in the world order, and there is a place here for you."
Lucas stood and paced the marble floor.
"This is a historical event, Angus." said Lucas, "You might not understand now, but when you're older, you'll appreciate what I’m doing. Music creation will be available to everyone, and everyone can use Thrum as they wish." Lucas spun at the sound of the stairwell door slamming open and the blast of discordant noise that followed.
Trevor charged through first, waving Gronk like a baseball bat to squirt oil over every surface. He immediately slipped on the greasy floor he’d created and slid on his bottom right under the table, where Gronk continued to spout prodigiously. Adora followed, carefully keeping her feet on the dry spots. Her face squinched as she buzzed into Boomer’s mouthpiece, producing loud, deep sounds at random. The boardroom table wobbled and began to turn, rapidly picking up speed on the slick of valve oil. Trevor clung to the rotating table’s base, ejecting greasy spray from beneath the table like a lawn sprinkler.
The meeting’s attendees shouted angrily, having been knocked off their chairs by the spinning table. Hamish produced a thick rainbow cloud of particles that flooded the room, causing great confusion. Veronica stomped into the fray, shouting epithets, and furiously sawing on Anastasia, who sent forth crackling spheres of energy. The forcefield bubbles bounced through the space, knocking over everyone and everything they encountered.
Trevor released the spinning table and woozily dragged himself to his feet, only to be immediately flattened by one of the ricocheting spheres. Adora shrieked as the blue man grabbed a handful of her hair. Hamish looked slack-jawed as Veronica laughed maniacally and continued to produce her projectiles. The fight was not going well.
Angus waved madly from the elevator, calling, “Veronica, everyone, stop this!”
Seeing that his words did not affect the mayhem, Angus calmed his mind and gathered himself for a shout that would be heard above the fray. The result was unexpected.
Everyone in the room froze and turned to Angus. He had unthinkingly stepped forward from the elevator, withdrawn his baton, and given it three sharp raps. Raising his hands above his head, he shouted in a resonant, commanding voice like none he’d ever used, “Walkürenritt; Ride of the Valkyries!”
Angus glared at the adults in the room, who surprisingly remained obediently silent. He then surveyed his musicians, making brief eye contact with each, nodded once sharply, and brought his arms down with a flourish.
In the blink of an eye, the five companions found themselves dressed in full persona gear. They began to play.
Angus wore flexible leather armor, cut for ease of movement. His arms and calves were bound with deep purple strapping to match the trim on his gear. His hair, however, stayed just as messy as usual but with purple highlights.
Adora shimmered warmly as if lit from within, her skin and robes gleaming brass. Grinning, she realized that Boomer loved the old, familiar piece, and all she had to do was provide breath and go along for the ride.
Hamish was a figure of energy wrapped in glowing blue patterns that continually morphed and slid over his body. His glassy and almost transparent cowboy hat was of the same material as the modified gun holsters on his hips, where his spoons Click & Clack resided when not in play. The spoons had transformed into mallets that guided Hamish’s hands over an array of ghostly percussion instruments. Hamish’s expression was gob smacked.
Trevor’s futuristic black plate armor was trimmed with accents of silver that looked part robotic and part jewelry. His eyes blazed an alien green with new contacts. Gronk managed to play a simple melody that worked well with the overall piece.
In all her glory, Veronica wore dark-lensed welder’s goggles with a high-necked scarlet jacket. A thick spray of black crinolines fell to her knees, revealing plaid leggings and heavy, buckled boots. She played confidently, Anastasia supporting and weaving the sound to create an effective defense.
The sweet strains of Anastasia conjured a tinkling shield of chain-link to protect the group as a sonic wave from Boomer rolled forth to slam every adult against the walls.
The short piece concluded, and the group eyed one another, unsure how to proceed now that they were momentarily protected, and the adults couldn’t reach them.
"Get them, kill them,” screamed Lucas, gesturing at the meeting’s attendees, who were angrily brushing themselves off, having been so abruptly flung against the walls. “But do not touch a hair on my son's head. He is far too valuable!"
The five leaders scowled in annoyance.
“This is ridiculous. I was here to make a deal, not fight your battles,” said the figure in the hooded robe, “Fix your family troubles before you approach the Lotus tribe again.” They produced an old mizmar, played a few notes, and a stone arch appeared. The figure bowed slightly and stepped through the portal.
A look of panic appeared on Lucas’s face as he saw the other leaders bring out their instruments.
The mouth of an ice cave appeared, and the man in white grunted as he gave a dismissive wave and walked through. The woman in orange silk disappeared into a ball of flame.
“Calub, Queen B, please wait,” pleaded Lucas to the last two remaining faction leaders,” I’ll have my security remove them, and we’ll get back to negotiations.”
“Yar Lucas,” said Calub, “you have been using me men, Knucks and Scribbs as swabbies, and we have not received nothing in return but trouble. I’m outta here.” Calub produced a bosun whistle, played two notes, and a ship's hatch appeared. He walked through and disappeared in a flash.
“Queen B?” pleaded Mendax, “We can still make this deal without the others. You and the Wolfgangs are loyal, are you not?”
“Absolutely,” snarled Queen B, baring her teeth, “to our own blood. Apparently, you are not.” She then produced a goat's horn, blew into it, and stepped through a mossy wooden opening.
The stairwell door flew open, and a dozen security guards crowded in.
“Where have you been?” Lucas yelled at the guards.
“Sorry, sir,” said the one in front, “the stairs and halls are covered in some kind of oil, which slowed us down.”
Trevor grinned ear to giant ear.
“Get them out of here!” Lucas bellowed, gesturing wildly at the kids.
Most of the guards scrambled to surround the children.
Veronica lifted Anastasia to her chin to reinforce the dissipated shield, but before she could play a note, a guard yanked her to the floor by an ankle, and the Viola dematerialized with a pop. Winded, Veronica struggled as two guards held her by the arms. Hamish wildly kicked at the guards before him. At the same time, Adora blatted notes from Boomer, slamming a trio of furious guards against the ceiling with each blast.
Trevor used Gronk as a club, connecting soundly with the head of the guard in front of him.
Angus leaped, rolled, and dodged, struggling to evade capture.
Lucas, who had donned his Persona, slipped around to lay a long, sharp Mendax claw on Veronica's throat. She snarled and struggled vainly in the iron grip of the guards.
“Enough! Stop this right now!” Mendax roared.
"Please don't!" said Angus, "We'll stop. I give up."
"I don't want to harm your friends, but I will unless you cooperate." Mendax kicked a clipboard across the floor.
Angus looked at his friends individually and picked up the pen.
"Don't sign it!" screamed Veronica, "He'll own you!"
Mendax tightened his hold on Veronica, and a bead of blood welled then dribbled down her neck.
Angus moved the pen close to the paper and then looked at Trevor.
"Don't sign it," Trevor sucked in a prodigious breath with a weird smile, then raised Gronk to his lips and blew. The sound produced was the worst the friends had heard yet, and they winced, but having listened to Trevor and Gronk’s ‘music’ for weeks, they were used to it. Mendax and the guards, however, had developed no such immunity. There was a pause, and then the retching started. Every adult in the room began to vomit explosively. Wet stains spread across the front of a few guard’s pants, and a sudden odor signaled that other bodily functions had also let loose.
"We need to be coordinated," called Veronica, wrinkling her nose while wrenching her arms from the grips of the preoccupied guards, “This won’t last.”
Angus, unsure but desperate, again pulled out his Baton. He cleared his mind and thought with all his might, save us. At first, he stood there, stick in hand, helpless to know how to proceed. “I need time to think!”
Veronica locked eyes with him, nodded tightly, and bowed Anastasia. Time stopped, and everything else in the room froze.
Angus surveyed the turmoil. He envisioned the scene like a ballet, every step and note choreographed with precision and grace. He raised the baton, and time resumed.
The guards recovered quickly and renewed their assault, but the band played fiercely, tightly in sync, and the tides began to turn. Hamish roped a group of guards with a crackling lasso of particles, long enough for Adora to stun them with a blast from Boomer.
Angus waved his baton with his right hand and gestured with his left. Trevor and Gronk honked out a barrage of discordant sounds, forcing the aggressors to plug their ears or experience another round of devastating sickness, rendering them uncoordinated and defenseless. One group of guards retreated miserably into the elevator, then were gone. Veronica conjured an energy field with Anastasia to corral the remaining guards into a small office off the boardroom. Hamish silently sang out a supersonic riff to shut the lock securely.
Angus began to understand his value as a conductor; they had played together, invincible. The battle was over.
Angus found himself face to face with the father he’d never known. Mendax shriveled out of his Persona.
"Now, what's the combination?" Angus leveled Beethoven's baton, which was now glowing red hot, at Lucas's nose.
"I cannot tell you," Lucas whispered, visibly afraid. "I cannot tell you."
"For the last time!" demanded Angus. "What is…"
"Maybe he really can't tell you,” cut in Trevor, "maybe he is under contract himself."
Lucas responded with a vigorous nod.
"You’re pretty much no use to us then," said Angus as he drew Beethoven's baton back like a dagger, ready to strike.
"WAIT!" pleaded Lucas, "I cannot tell you the combination, but I can tell you the date you were born." Lucas fell to his knees, looking utterly defeated.
"Um, Angus," said Veronica. "If you missed the subtleties, the combination is your birthday."