Grimmlord 2.7 (Patreon)

We cut now back in space and time to the Justice Collective Satellite, where Simulata and Spellbinder had just managed to survive an attack from one of the robots that had been sent against Grimmlord (last ish!).

Simulata, who’d gathered the shattered remains of the bot in a steel mesh bag, hurled the wiggling, writhing mass into the incinerator, the robot making a horrible shrieking noise as it was utterly destroyed.

“It looks like the robots are going to be a dead end,” Spellbinder said.

Simulata did not believe the statement necessarily derived logically from what they had experienced, but having committed numerous faux pas and determined to be more “social” she demurred. Nodding.

“So, what next?”

“Perhaps you should select one of the numerous other leads?” Simulata said.

“Smart ass,” Spellbinder said.

“I do not believe my ass capable of sentience.”

“Okay. Agreed. I know Grimm scouted his mansion, but the security was too tight. Maybe if we can get in there you can do some hacking. They have taken over all his systems with some kind of software, so there has to be a trail, right?”

“It is likely that they penetrated his software systems externally and if so I could seek to trace their location.”

“Can you try now?”

“I can,” Simulata said. She connected to the satellite systems and then to the WWW. Searching, locating nodes, she found the security protecting Grimmlord’s network — “exquisite.”

“What?”

“Any attempt to tamper from the outside runs the risk of a total system wipe.”

“From the outside?”

“Yes, but getting inside would require—“

“Magic?” Spellbinder said, tossing a ball of eldritch energy from hand to hand.

“There is no such thing.”

“Right. Let’s go.”

While the Grimmlord’s systems were secure, scans of the mansion showed grocery deliveries being made from the nearest Whole Foods. Simulata easily penetrated the network, and they found out when the next delivery was to be made.

Soon, Simulata and Spellbinder were making their way through the warehouse, dressed in Whole Foods uniforms, nodding as they passed workers. Spellbinder had cast a spell on Simulata to make her look like a crunchy hippie chick, with dreads and tattoos. “Have you located the driver’s phone?”

“Got it,” Simulata said.

The van was at the door, and the workers had just finished loading it. The driver was heading toward the door, when his phone rang. He heard his boss telling him to come by the office before leaving. Grumbling, he headed back into the warehouse, while Spellbinder and Simulata casually climbed into the van and drove away.

“Stealing is fun,” Simulata said, barking out an electronic laugh. “Ah. Ah. Ah.”

“We should have been villains!” Spellbinder said, pulling her hat down lower on her head. Spellbinder then conjured up a joint, lit it and took a toke.

“As a hippie chick, should I not also partake?” Simulata asked.

“Dude!” Spellbinder said, handing Simulata the joint.

Simulata took a toke, then scanned the web for an appropriate response. “That is what might be called good shit.”

Spellbinder laughed.

“Did I express the right sentiment?”

“Oh, yeah, you did.”

They both laughed.

When they arrived at the gate to Grimmlord’s mansion, they got serious and tried to act natural. Both tensed, ready to attack if there was a problem, but much to their surprise the gates swung open and bored looking guards waved them into the grounds. It seemed that the security looked much more fierce than it functioned.

They pulled around to a back entrance, where a couple guards leaned against the wall, smoking. Spellbinder and Simulata climbed out of the van and went to the backdoors, swinging them open. “Hey!” Spelllbinder called. “Can you help us? There’s a really heavy pallet.”

The guards looked at each other, uncertain. Simulata decided to help out. “You males are most masculine looking, and your muscular frames arouse me.”

The guys laughed.

Simulata felt very proud of herself. “I am feeling a growing sense of warmth!”

The guys started to walk over, much to the amazement of Spellbinder, who didn’t think she’d ever heard worse flirting in her life. As soon as the guys came over, Spellbinder tossed a sleep spell on them. They guards were loaded in the van, and a new illusion was cast to make Spellbinder and Simulata look like the men.

“My arm is so hairy!” Simulata said.

“Shhhsss. We need to be unnoticed until we get to a computer.”

“Indeed.”

They made their way through the mansion. Simulata had pulled up plans for the mansion from old building permits, and though they both knew the Grimm Cave and other modifications had not been on these plans, they were betting the rest was at least close. The mansion was fairly crowded with personnel, and Spellbinder wondered what they were all doing there. It was clear they were not only trying to keep Grimmlord out— in fact, they seemed to be remodeling.

There was a small office of a guest room they hoped would be empty, and they had made it all the way to the guest room in a wing that seemed unused, when a soldier happened to come around a corner. “You,” he called. “What are you doing in this wing?”

“Just a routine check,” Spellbinder said, a little surprised at how deep her voice sounded.

The man reached for his walkie talkie. “What’s your service number?”

“Um, 3478-12?” Spellbinder said.

The man frowned. “Just hold on,” he said, slipping the walkie talkie from his belt, trying to pretend he didn’t realize what they all knew he realized: that these two were not guards at all. He brought the walkie talkie to his mouth and recoiled as he felt dusty feathers against his lips and tongue. Surprised, he looked to see he was holding a father duster. “Vat is these?” He said, eyes going wide at the sound of his piping soprano voice. He looked down to see breasts swelling from the top of his French Maid uniform, wobbled on his stiletto heels, and fainted into Simulata’s arms.

“Quick,” Spellbinder said, opening the guest room door.

Simulata carried the transformed guard into the room and lay him gently on the bed. “Why did you turn him into a French Maid?” Simulata asked, smoothing his skirt.

“I guess I was thinking about Grimmlord,” Spellbinder said. “Let’s go.”

They went into the office, and Simulata sat down, plugging into the UBS port.