Gerald followed Dasher to his study. The two took a seat after Gerald opened a drawer and threw a recruitment patch to Dasher.
[Activate]
Gerald opened his eyes and found himself in the familiar white space.
[Class S operative register]
[Welcome operative Acers]
"Retrieve."
Dasher appeared next to Gerald.
[Class D operative detected]
[Welcome operative Dasher]
"Briefing."
[A Doppelganger has inhabited Earth2913]
[Mission has been determined to be Class-C]
[Operative Dasher has the opportunity for promotion if the mission is completed with an S- or higher completion rate]
"Continue."
[The doppelganger has appeared in Brokenfall town. Due to its nature, its existence remains unknown to others.]
[Class S operative has 15 points to gear up]
[Items, skills, and talents are restricted to Class C and below]
Since Dasher was a class-D operative, he was able to spend nine points.
"A doppelganger?" Dasher asked.
"A shapeshifter. It kills its victims and literally becomes them. They are an identical copy of their victim. It is a perfect match from the way they look, to the way they walk or talk. The doppelganger even inherits all their memories. Combat wise, they aren't a threat, but finding them can be a challenge. Doppelgangers also have a love of manipulating people. They get a thrill from deceiving others."
"So our mission is sort of like a manhunt? Do you know anything about this world? Have you been there before?"
"No, I haven't visited this earth. Give me a moment to purchase an information pack."
Dasher waited for Gerald to consume the information and then asked. "What was the major change in this world?"
"The divergent point was in 1851 London. At the World's Fair. In our time, an blacksmith named Thomas Davenport died on July 6th when he was fell overboard during a storm at sea. Not only was Thomas Davenport a blacksmith, but he was an electrical engineer who is credited with inventing the electrical motor. In this world, he completed his journey and arrived at the World's Fair. On September 23rd. he unveiled something to the public that spurned a great change in the world."
"And what might that be?" Dasher asked.
"Man's first attempt at a robot. After he unveiled his creation which by no means was a self-operating robot, but a prototype that was able to be controlled. He made his research available to the public and after they saw his mechanical arm chop a piece of wood, the era of robotics was born. This boom in robotic research came a hundred years earlier than it did in our world. The people were obsessed and whole countries devoted themselves to the subject. But what good is a robot without a proper computer to run and control it. They wanted to give the machines life. Along with advancements in robotics, computer sciences also advanced at a rapid pace."
"At the World's fair in 1951, on the hundredth-year anniversary of the birth of what was know as the first robot. A new achievement was shown to the public. A robot that was controlled by a fully autonomous artificial intelligence."
"Oh boy." Dasher mumbled.
"Indeed, three years later, the war between mankind and the machines began. The war lasted almost a decade. The machines were outnumbered but were controlled by a single entity. They found it hard to defeat the humans who were armed with weapons and were shutting down the factories one by one. In a long and drawn out battle, the robots turned to their natural advantage. The began to destroy the environment. The A.I. that fought against them reasoned that the people couldn't fight back if they couldn't eat or bear the conditions. Environmental warfare was waged. Mankind eventually was able to track down the brain of the A.I. that was always on the move and destroyed the remaining robots in one swift strike."
"Sounds like they had a rough go it." Dasher said.
"Every world has their problems. The people survived and rebuilt but they are still dealing with the aftereffects. Half of the planets land mass has been turned into a desert. Any form of 'Smart' technology has been rejected. The technology has regressed. Any form of computer is seen as evil. The smaller cities are lucky to have electricity and most people travel by horse or steam train. Big cities have automobiles, but gas supplies are limited. The robots had destroyed almost all refineries and only those near large hubs have been rebuilt. Since the war only ended fifty years ago, the older generation personally experienced the horrors while the younger grew up listening to the tales of their elders. In fifty years their has been almost no improvement in computer science or technology. No one dares."
"Alright, I get the gist of it. I will prepare for a search mission and if I buy any tech, I will make sure it is hidden."
Gerald nodded and started to determine what he should purchase for himself.
The pair spent the next hour discussing their purchases. Gerald was fine with anything. To him it was only a Class-C mission. Dasher was more interested in his possible promotion. He knew that Gerald wasn't keen on him tagging along all the time, but that didn't mean he was going to waste this chance.
"Mission accepted. Launch."
***
*Woo* *Woo*
The trains whistle sounded out as it pulled into the station. The passengers took their belongings and eagerly embarked. A pair of men were the last to step off and into the dusty town of BrokenFall. Gerald stepped off first.
His leather boots stepped onto the wooden boardwalk that ran beside the train. A pair of revolvers hung from his hips and were concealed by a worn-out and long brown leather coat. In his left hand he held a long bag and his right gently placed a wide brim hat upon his head.
Dasher stepped off of the train behind him.
A young boy ran up to the both. "Sirs, do you need help with your bags?" Asked the dirty child.
"Were fine kid, but I got a quarter for ya if you can't point me to the Sheriff."
The kid's eyes lit up. "Sure, take main street to the south and you will find it across from the bank. It is only three blocks. If you see a bar next to a pool hall, you have gone too far."
"Thanks." Gerald said as he flipped the quarter to the kid.
The boy grabbed it and quickly disappeared as if he was worried that Gerald would change his mind.
"Little stingy, aren't you?" Dasher asked.
"Nah, with the collapse of computers and disgust of technology, long distance communication isn't easily achieved."
"Meaning?"
"No super billionaires and mega corporations. Among other things, inflation of money is less rampant. A quarter here is worth close to five dollars."
Dasher nodded as they stepped out onto the street. The buildings were semi modern, but the people seemed to be from the past. Most clothes were handmade. Goods weren't being mass produced in factories. People walked to their destinations in the town. The wealthy could hire a horse-drawn carriage to transport them. Farmers and businessmen used wagons. Some people could afford horse and rode on horseback while the middle-class families preferred bicycles.
The pair walked down the street. Gerald remained focused and blended in while Dasher looked with curiosity towards the surrounding environment.
"I was only able to get fifty dollars of local currency after spending a point. We will need to look for additional funds." Gerald said while handing a ten, five, a few singles and some change to Dasher. "Let's head to the Sheriff's office and let him know that we are here. Then we will have to find accommodations."
"Sounds good."
"But first…" Gerald turned and walked into a corner store. And bought himself a pouch of tobacco and some rolling papers and filters.
"I noticed that you never smoke at home."
"Of course. Don't you know that smoking kills?" Gerald answered while looking at Dasher like he was the stupidest man alive.
"But can't you… you know… regenerate? Avoid any disease and always stay in perfect health."
"What does that have to do with anything?" Gerald asked. "Smoking is a disgusting habit."
Dasher shook his head and stopped asking. Up ahead, they could see the Sheriff's office. Outside the building, several horses were tied above a water troth. Next to them there were a handful of bicycles that were locked up. In a secure cage next to the building was the first vehicle they saw with a combustion engine. A dirt bike was stored in the secure cage.
Dasher pushed open the door to the building while Gerald took off his hat and entered behind him.
"Hello, is there something I can do for you?" Asked a man in uniform who was seated at the desk beside the door.
"We're looking for the Sheriff. Is he available?" Gerald asked.
The man rose from his desk. "Who might you to be?"
"We are from the Marshall department." He answered.
"Wait here. I will go find out."
"Thank you, deputy." Gerald said while taking a seat on the bench next to the door.
He looked around and saw a few drunks sleeping it off behind the bars on the left side of the room.
The deputy excused himself into a room at the back of the building while they waited.
A minute later, two people stepped out. The deputy and a weathered man. He looked over the pair that were seated at the bench while he approached.
"I am Sheriff Daniel's. What can I do for you?"
Gerald pulled out a folded wallet, as did Dasher. They revealed metal stars inside circles that were next to picture identifications. They passed them to the Sheriff.
Sheriff Daniels took the badges and closely inspected the faint etchings on them while listening to Gerald continue.
"We are from the Marshall Investigation Bureau. We-."
"You boys with the presidential detail? There have already been a number of Marshals that have come by and checked the tracks leading into the city."
"No, we are here for something else. We believe that the person we are pursuing has come to your town. We are here to inform you that we will be operating in your town for the foreseeable future."
The Sheriff passed the badges back. "Why are you here telling me this? You MIB boys don't owe me anything."
"Sheriff Daniels. I have been doing this long enough to know that if I come into your town and step on your toes, it will be almost impossible for me to complete my objective. Any Marshall worth a damn knows that a Sheriff is a better friend rather than an enemy. Besides, the person we are chasing is a nasty piece of work. In the coming days there is a good chance people will start to go missing."
The Sheriff frowned. "You keep saying person. Do you not know who you are looking for?"
"To be honest, we don't. I don't even know if it is a man or a woman. We only have a string of bodies."
"Hmm, how sure are you that they were killed by the same person?"
"Well… the bodies, are no longer bodies. We have found large globs of a gooey substance, about the size of a body. Reeks of blood but none was found. We believe that this pile of sticky substance used to be a person. We have followed fourteen bodies across three towns. Two weeks ago, the trail went cold so we started to look at the next city in line. That would be Brokenfall."
The deputies face paled. "Sheriff." The deputy said while turning to Daniels. "Behind the Wet Goose."
"I know." The Sheriff said with a frown while turning to the deputy. "Lock their bags in my office. And try to raise Sam on the radio. You two need to come with me quickly. I just hope that son-in-law of mine is as lazy as he normally is. I just sent him to clean up something like you described fifteen minutes before you arrived."
The Sheriff stepped out of the building with a quick pace and mounted a horse after untying it. "Take the two horses on the end." He said to the pair.
Gerald was already an experience rider and Dasher had bought the talent.
They got into the saddles, dug their heels in and chased after the trail of dust left behind by the Sheriff.