GO TO THE TABLE OF CONTENTS ============================== SEVERE REPAIR: THE BROKEN TEXT A Science Fiction Story (approx. 1,000 pages) by Frank Edward Nora ============================== "An Interdimensional Universe Of Characters On The Chaotic Edge Of The End Of Everything" This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this work are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Copyright (c) 2008 by Frank Edward Nora Some rights reserved. You may download and share this file with some restrictions: The electronic version of this book is released under a Creative Commons "Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0" license (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/). Here is a summary of the license: You are free to copy, distribute, display, and perform the work, under the following conditions: [1] Attribution. You must give the original author credit. [2] Noncommercial. You may not use this work for commercial purposes. [3] No Derivative Works. You may not alter, transform, or build upon this work. [4] For any reuse or distribution, you must make clear to others the license terms of this work. [5] Any of these conditions can be waived if you get permission from the copyright holder. Published by Frank Edward Nora, frank@theovernightscape.com More info at SevereRepair.com First Edition: April 2008 NOTE: This work supercedes all previous version of Severe Repair, and contains everything that was included in previous versions. NOTE: This work contains some adult language and subject matter and is intended for mature audiences. NOTE: This work contains approximately 1.9 MB of text across 34 sections (not counting the Introduction), and must be kept intact in any reproduction. ============================== INTRODUCTION ============================== Severe Repair is an original work of science fiction that I have been working on for over 22 years. The project started in 1986, though some of the writing is older. I wrote most of it during the 1990s. Though I probably should have, I never treated Severe Repair as an ordinary "book". I like to do things my own way, and over the years this has been somewhat disastrous for Severe Repair. The earliest parts of Severe Repair were published as photocopied "minicomics" called "Bible 2" in the 1980s. I continued on this course, publishing a number of experimental photocopied publications in the early 1990s, in which these stories were featured, at some point being named "Severe Repair". In 1994, I started an "ezine" called OsoaWeek ("The Weekly Ezine of Obliviana Super Occult Amusement"). It started off on AOL and a local BBS--then in 1995 it moved to the Internet on Obliviana.com. It was in OsoaWeek that I published the majority of the Severe Repair stories. In the late 1990s, I was inspired to create a new fiction format for the Internet, the "Cupline" system. In this system, the stories were split up into short segments ("Cups") of a few pages each, and put into a hypertext environment. This was part of my larger hypertext work called "Aerie Obliviana". The "1999 Version" of Severe Repair was a milestone, in that it brought together most of what I had written in this "Cupline" format. Ultimately, the Cupline system didn't catch on--in retrospect, I think it added an unnecessary complication to reading the work. Part of the idea had been to look at Severe Repair as a "pile of comic books" where you could start reading at any point. I finally realized this was confusing and was ultimately not helpful in getting people to experience Severe Repair. Entering the new millennium, Severe Repair was on the back burner. I would write new things now and then, but far less than my peak time in the 90s. Finally, around 2002 I decided the next phase for Severe Repair--to turn it into a series of novels. This turned out to be another big mistake for Severe Repair. My writing is very freeform, stream of consciousness, inconsistent, and undisciplined. Each storyline is fairly self-consistent, but things can change a lot between storylines. What I decided to do with the novel is to weave a number of storylines together in alternating chapters--and the result was, in retrospect, a failure. It hurt the material for it all to be interwoven like that. It really was not meant for this "novel" format. In 2003, OsoaWeek ended and my Internet radio show "The Overnightscape" began... In 2004, I was inspired by other online authors to release the novel version of Severe Repair under a Creative Commons license. I realized it was not perfect, but it was a way to get Severe Repair out there. It was available as a free download (as for a time as a physical book, printed on demand by CafePress--only two were ever made, I think). This online release was not successful--in part, I believe, because the form was so wrong for the material. Last year, 2007, I took another look at the overall project, and gathered everything I had together. The entire work was approximately 1,000 pages, and a total mess. Parts of it had been cleaned up to be a part of the novel. A lot of it was still in the 1999 "Cupline" version. There was new writing, and also much older writing I rediscovered in old documents. All brought together in one mass heap of writing... a broken disaster, full of insanity and inconsistency... And I realized, Severe Repair is unfixable... it is completely broken. A disaster. But it's GOOD. So looking at my "work in progress" folder on my hard drive, I realized I should just release the whole thing, as is. This was last week. In order to make this release, I cleaned things up a little, but what is here is pretty much what I collected together last year. One of the Cuplines, "The Cartersash Story" was unifinished, but had extensive notes on how it was to proceed. So over the past few days I finished writing that section. It was very cool to be writing Severe Repair again--it came right back to me, even though it's been such a long time since I've done it. So this is "Severe Repair: The Broken Text". Finally, the complete work released in a form that does it justice. But it is absolutely "broken"... a messed-up, flawed disaster. But it is, in my opinion, still very good! Just in the past couple days I have been very engaged reading different parts of it... So what is Severe Repair about? It's all about interdimensional travel, time travel, superheroes, gods, alternate realities, and the end of the universe. The central storyline follows a green-haired guy named Daptin Gone as he discovers his godhood and realizes that he has, in some way, prevented the universe from ending when it should have. The matter is not resolved... there are hints of some kind of final battle, but I haven't written that yet... so yes, there is a possibility that I will write more Severe Repair... but for now this is the definitive version of Severe Repair. I hope you enjoy it, in all its imperfection and wonder. Love, Frank Edward Nora April 5, 2008 P.S. Check out my Internet talk show, "The Overnightscape", at TheOvernightscape.com ...also, in "The Overnightscape Underground" Day One (onsug.com) I did an audiobook version of one section ("Beautiful Disaster Area")--but I was not too happy with the results. I would still love to do an audio version but I think it would be a LOT of work to do it right... ============================== CONTENTS ============================== CUPLINE 1: GOODBYE POPCORN (231 K) CUPLINE 2: OFFICE COMPLEX (175 K) CUPLINE 3: PECULIAR LATHER (117 K) CUPLINE 4: WINTER STADIUM THEM (66 K) CUPLINE 5: THE CARBONIZE NEIGHBOR (52 K) CUPLINE 6: YELLOWHAUS (35 K) CUPLINE 7: HONEYSUCKLE ROVER (44 K) CUPLINE 8: IRREGULAR SHIRT (81 K) CUPLINE 9: THE WATERALLIDGE EDGE (21 K) CUPLINE 10: QUARREL ORCHARD (24 K) CUPLINE 11: CARDBOARD RISING (14 K) CUPLINE 12: FOOLWARD OAK (32 K) CUPLINE 13: FRIEND IS TAR MONORAIL (24 K) CUPLINE 14: TO VIXENWAY (30 K) CUPLINE 15: WEAVER (101 K) CUPLINE 16: BILLION'S DRIFTING (61 K) CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER (150 K) CUPLINE 18: A ROAD MAP OF ARCTICA (95 K) CUPLINE 19: THE MILDRED CORK (65 K) CUPLINE 20: CLOWN CENTAUR ARCHITECT (46 K) CUPLINE 21: ORANGE UNIVERSE (66 K) CUPLINE 22: I LOVE BAILEY CONG (16 K) CUPLINE 23: PILN OF SCREW RIDGE (19 K) CUPLINE 24: THE DARK OF COLLEGE (37 K) CUPLINE 25: HADRIAN FOZZCOLT (32 K) CUPLINE 26: CARNE'S MOISTURE DETECTION FRIEND (87 K) CUPLINE 27: BEWTIOLB DAYS (11 K) CUPLINE 28: ACONCK DUST (22 K) CUPLINE 29: CELLAR 77 (11 K) CUPLINE 30: THE CARTERSASH STORY (25 K) CUPLINE 31: BEAUTIFUL DISASTER AREA (15 K) CUPLINE 32: LAZY DAY (5 K) CUPLINE 33: THE NURSHIP STUNS (14 K) CUPLINE 34: DOLTHETHMEN (28 K) ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 1: GOODBYE POPCORN 13 Chapters--SR-001 thru SR-013 ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 1: GOODBYE POPCORN CHAPTER 1 SR-001 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 2 sr02 01.1--Canyon & Phone Call -------------------------- ============================== Sitting in his room at the Supbam Hotel in Agoopish as Bright (the thing that passed for the sun here) was rising, Daptin Gone didn't want to make the phone call. He ran his hand through his long green hair and leaned back in his chair. His mind was wandering, seeking avenues of thought engaging enough to justify delaying the call. He looked out the window at the city below, at the people starting to throng, at the weird hospitals in the distance, at the unpredictable Tuhalont River. He'd been in a hospital once. Cringing, he recalled in vivid horror the terminal illness he had had, and how he somehow beat it, and that Glorious Place, and how things hadn't seemed to be working quite right. He mulled over the matter, as he had done so many times before. This whole superlife of his, which seemed to casually annihilate the infinite suffering of his miserable diseased state. Crushed it like stepping unknowing on a little spider. The miracle cure that people didn't like--they thought he'd been faking it. Escape down to Baskonontana, to college in Gullia Fair. Recruited into a dimension-hopping company of weirdoes, Overwhelm Associates. And then introduced to these cities, these hidden Avert Cities... and Agoopish was the one he called home. It all started in that Glorious Place... Such a wonderful day, such an excellent location. Walking up the grassy hill, perfect sunlight and breezes, Daptin saw the rock and the fox on top of it, jumping off. Near the rock was a blackboard with the words "Here is Canyon" scrawled across it. The little red fox trotted toward Daptin and said, "You're late. Oh so very late." Daptin stopped. Fox approached and sat. "I knew you were still here," Fox said. "Sit, and I'll let you know what you missed." Daptin slowly sat down in the grass, mind racing, all so familiar. It was the beautiful smell in the air more than anything else. "We're so far along," Fox said, shaking his head. "So few left." Daptin took a deep, deep breath and smiled in recognition. He knew Fox, somehow. The furry fellow was familiar. "And I'll be departed myself before the next Time," Fox continued. "So few left." "Who?" Daptin asked, his voice sounding unusually rich. Fox sighed. "Twenty-five, including you and me." Daptin took a moment to think about it. "Twenty-five?" he asked, dumbfounded. "Yes, and all of you were so far scattered that we only found you two Times ago. The absolute bottom of the well. All that's left." Daptin tried to remember more, but couldn't. "All the others have departed, returned to their Lives," Fox continued. Then, looking up at Daptin. "Who will find it?" Daptin met Fox's eyes and was struck with the little fellow's deep aura of being. "It?" Daptin asked. Then something happened. The beautiful environs disappeared, and Daptin was back in his bed at the hospital in his native country of Arctica. He'd been there, asleep, before Fox had somehow called him into that other world. It had just been a few minutes earlier, by his reckoning. Daptin panicked as the pain of his Hizzings Disease returned in a massive wave of horror. There was a game show on the TV as he looked over at his roommate, Tag, who was sleeping. The pain made Daptin angry, and he tried to get out of the bed, but he only managed to nudge himself a little and get light-headed. Half-conscious, Daptin saw a nurse walk into the room and emit a shocked "What?" She ran from the room, but her exclamation woke Tag, who looked over. "Holy crap! How'd you get back, man? We thought you did yourself in. Where've you been?" Daptin struggled to form the words through dry lips. "How long... have I..." "What, three or four days? I dunno. So where you been?" "I don't... know... for sure." "Huh. Well the police will sure want to talk to you. They grilled me for a couple of hours, y'know, man. They thought your family or maybe your girlfriend took you away and helped you commit suicide the easy way, man. Without a judge." "No," Daptin managed. "Well you have a lot of explaining to do, Daptin, my man." Daptin grunted. How frustrating it was, being strong and healthy one minute and so weak and pathetic the next. The nurse returned with a security guard. "Look!" she said, pointing at Daptin. "What the--everything's hooked up. The machines--who set them back up?" the guard said. "Nobody!" the nurse said in her irritating nasal voice. "Nobody here, anyway. Maybe whoever took him away put everything back?" "Well, we can figure all this out later. The police are on their way," the guard said, looking quite glad to have something interesting happen on the job. "Should I call his family?" the nurse asked. Daptin wished she would just shut up. "No--let the police take care of that. We don't know who's involved," the guard said. "Okay," the nurse said, as she approached Daptin's supine form. "Can you hear me?" she asked. "Yes," Daptin managed. "Do you know where you are?" the nurse said. "Hospital." "That's right. But where were you?" Daptin couldn't stand that voice so close to him. "Leave... me alone." "We'll leave you alone once we figure out what in the name of Locket is going on," she said, hovering over him. Then she removed the covers from Daptin and began examining him. Daptin couldn't stand it, the misery of being taken care of by such an idiot. But he knew how to escape. Somehow, he knew. "Here is Canyon," Daptin said with some difficulty. Instantly, the world shifted. and Daptin was standing in a room with a window, looking out onto Canyon. He was back in his regular clothes, and healthy again, as he had been with Fox. He looked around the room, which was carved out of rock, and saw a number of tables and comfortable-looking chairs, along with an opening in one wall leading into another room. From outside, which was sunny and beautiful, he heard a distant "Hahoo!". Daptin moved to the window, looked out, and saw someone approaching from below. Soon, he saw it was a young woman flying up toward the window. He backed away, and a moment later she approached the window and hovered there for a moment. "Yes!" she exclaimed, and did several backflips in midair. Daptin stood still as the pretty girl flew into the room, landed, and stood before him. She was short, with long, full blond hair, and a wonderful, whimsical blue-and-white outfit. "You're the one who didn't make it. Did you see Fox, then?" "I did," Daptin said. "Cool! What do you think about it?" "Um, I think, uh, it's pretty good, I guess," Daptin managed. "Good. Do you remember me?" She did look familiar, but Daptin couldn't place her. "Sort of." "Well, you seem familiar, but likewise, I don't quite remember. My Lifename now is The Tracy Taciturn. What's yours?" "Daptin. Daptin Gone." "Pleased to see you again, Daptin." "Uh, same to you, Tracy." Tracy looked out the window. "I love flying. It feels so good to be doing it again. Can you believe we're all that's left? Well, except for Fox. But he's leaving. That means we have a chance to make up for our rotten lot in Creation." "Is anyone else here?" Tracy turned to face him. "Oh, just one other. The rest are off in search of the it, I suppose. They must know what they're doing, unlike us." "Yeah." "Assuming you came here like me to get a handle on what's going on." "That's a reason." "Cool. So how much do you remember?" "Not much." "Well, that's alright. Deskerhilm seems to know everything. He should be up in a while--doesn't fly you know. Do you?" "I'm not sure." "Wanna try? It's great. Please, you must." "Okay, what do I do?" "Well, I guess, you could just jump out the window, but that wouldn't do if you're not a flyer." "I'd fly, but only in one direction--down." "True. So why don't I carry you along, and you can let go if you feel your Flight." Tracy approached Daptin, and put her arms around his waist. Before he could react, she flew out the window upside down, holding Daptin on top of her. They soared out over Canyon and Daptin took in the majesty of the place for the first time. And he enjoyed the tight embrace. "What do you think, Daptin?" Daptin wasn't at all apprehensive. In fact, he began to feel his own Flight. "I think I can do it," he said. "Shall I let go?" "No, not yet. Let me get a good hold on it." They flew for a few more minutes, swooping and speeding all around Canyon. Then Daptin made fists and felt his Flight fully. Without a word, Tracy let go, and Daptin felt an amazing rush as he took over and was himself flying. He soared all over Canyon and frolicked with Tracy for a long time, laughing and hahooing all the way. Brilliant and vague. Daptin had a sense of memory, an existence before the Daptin Gone incarnation. Growing up in the suburbs of Arctica... then struck with disease just as he should have started sowing his teenage wild oats. And now the mega-glorious flying, and he knew for sure it wasn't just a dream. The frolic was for hours, then they had to head back. Flying next to Tracy toward the Palace in the Wall from far down Canyon where they'd flown, Daptin was struck with the irony of it all. "I tell you, I spent so much time coming to terms with death, from the first diagnosis to my present state. So much denial, so much agony. For everyone, my family, my friends, my girlfriend. And I didn't even know. Well, I hardly knew, about all this. And now, flying... with you and everything... in this Highworld, it seems so..." "Sounds like a pretty nasty disease, that one you have." Daptin laughed. "Hizzings Disease. Yeah. Still don't know how I can cure it." "Deskerhilm will have the answer," The Tracy Taciturn said. "Fox knew Deskerhilm was beyond most of us, that he wouldn't want to get involved in it. Knew he'd help those of us who needed it." "And out of the 24 left, or 23, I guess, we're the only ones who need help? The 21 others know what they're doing?" Tracy shrugged as best one can while flying. "Maybe they don't, but also don't want to seem too anxious for help." "What were they like, the others?" "Oh, a mixed lot. Most were human. Some were--well, some were beyond description. 44 Times is a long time, especially for those prone to mischief and wandering from the Path." "Yeah." Tracy picked up speed and Daptin matched it easily. They were going so fast that they couldn't hear each other when they tried to speak, so they didn't. The Sun was setting as they reached the Palace and flew into the same room Daptin had arrived in. Deskerhilm was waiting for them. He looked up from the book he was reading and greeted them. Daptin was a little shaken at Deskerhilm's appearance. He was a very short, stocky creature, with a barely humanoid shape. He was a brown-gray color, and his skin resembled a cross between rock and reptile. His face had an ancient, calm look to it and vaguely resembled a toad. He had an air of might about him, but also an air of patience and benevolence. Suddenly, the strange little fellow held up his hands and backed away from the two. "No! No! Cannot be!" Deskerhilm said, and like a video camera falling off a table, the world collapsed. And it was back to the hospital, where the scandal began. Daptin yowled in pain, thought he was gonna die any minute. But an hour later he was in a peaceful sleep. A day later he was fully cured. The memory of Canyon was still there, but blurred. And saying "Here is Canyon" from then on gave him a strange buzzing feeling, but didn't transport him. It felt like a signal blocked. A signal blocked... a signal blocked... Back in the present and the hotel room, Daptin was shaken out of his musings by the sound of a massive explosion in the distance. From that weird bomb test place? Maybe. But now, he just had to make the call. Had to make the call... picking up the phone as confused memories danced in his head... home from the hospital and totally healthy... they all thought it was a hoax, that he did it for symapthy and to go on his "end journeys"... he had to leave his homeland of Arctica... he went south, to Baskonontana... to Thatterine College in Gullia Fair... The end journies... a great four months... the grand tour of Arctica, paid for by willing donations from his hometown... folllowed by two years of evil disease. How could they think he had faked it...? Dialing... dialing... He heard the phone ringing on the other end as he twirled the cord around his arm. Out the window of the suite, he saw morning dawning over Agoopish. This had to be the most way-out phone call ever made, being that it crossed the boundaries of no less than five worlds. "Hello?" came the unfamiliar high-pitched female voice on the other end of the line. "Uh, yeah. This is, uh, Daptin. Can I talk to Eb?" "Mr. Traipse is in a meeting at the moment... tee hee," said the voice, giggling. "What? A meeting? What time is it there? Tell him it's Daptin, he'll wanna talk to me." "I'm sorry," said the gleeful, sing-song voice. "Look, this is a very long-distance call, and I have to talk to him. Page him or something, y'know? It's like really important." "Chee hee hee!" "Now wait... who is this? Huh? Let me talk to Diorama or Bliss, or anyone!" Daptin heard more tittering and the phone being dropped. In the background, he heard some people talking loudly, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. "Shoulda known not to call Greatwall at midday," Daptin grumbled to himself as he stood up and walked over to the window. He surveyed Bright continuing to rise up over the diverse buildings of midtown Agoopish. Far below he saw hordes of denizens going about their mucky lives. Soon he'd be out there too. Mucky too? Not very. He knew this would be a fun day. "Damn," Daptin muttered. He walked over to the TV and switched it on, turning the sound all the way down. On the screen was an extreme close-up of a bearded fat guy, making all sorts of goofy faces at the camera. He'd seen the show before--a whole half-hour of this guy's silly expressions, accompanied by cacophonous polka. Another example of Adlai Blankablark's lack of firm footing in reality. Daptin wasn't the only one counting the days till Earth cable TV would be piped into Agoopish. They already had it in the free city of Boltpike, so the only barriers left were political. But he was sure Agoopish would get it before the other god-ruled cities, Ocpadusk, Blamnoom, and Felptash. A commotion like the sound of banging pots and pans came across the phone line, and Daptin was about to hang up and try another Overwhelm Associates number when he heard the phone being picked up. "Yes. Hello. Hello?" came the voice of Eb Traipse. "Hello," Daptin said. "Yes, who is this?" "It's Daptin! Daptin Gone. Remember me?" "Oh, yes. Hold on a second, would you?" Eb said. Then, raising his voice, he said, "We can't have this! Tell them to keep it under control! I'm not kidding! Mr. Fife will not be happy! ...Daptin?" "Yeah." "How kind of you to call. We half thought you were dead or working for Thewsike by now." "No. I'm fine. But, like first, what the hell is happening over there?" "Oh. Well, don't spread it around but we have a faery problem here. A lot of them are running amuck all around here. You know we can't have this." "How the hell'd they get there?" "I'm afraid Ms. Arcomany is to blame. She uncovered a faeryland on Barley Sine Earth and a troop of the buggers stowed away in her cloak." "That was a faery on the phone before?" "My god they're answering the phones now! Letevs will have my head!" "I'm sure Treyess will own up to it." "That's not what I'm worried about. It's been a few hours and none of our anti-faery protocols are succeeding. This breed is respectably robust." "Hmm. Well, I'm glad I'm not there." "Where are you, by the way, my dear boy?" Eb said. "Um. I, uh, I'm around, y'know, around the Alley, the general Red Alley area kind of place, y'know." "You sound like you're calling from right next door." "I, uh, wouldn't go that far, Eb." "Heh heh. So what do you have to say for yourself? You're in violation of about a baker's dozen company policies. You're not working for Thewsike, are you? Please tell me you're not." "No, I'm definitely not like anywhere near working for the Unreal Sixty-Four." "So what are you up to?" "I, uh, I've just been hanging out on the Alley. I've been pretty fed up with Overwhelm lately. I mean, I know scheduling's a thing, but almost twenty months and I still don't have bridging? I mean, huh, I'm convinced you guys just didn't want to see me able to bridge. And I mean, if you don't want to teach me, fine, but just come out and say it. And all the bullshit coming out of Greatwall is just, like, really weird. No one believes you guys anymore. What the hell is Fife's problem? We all know Overwhelm is military, so why's he trying to hide it so much, from his own warriors?" "Daptin, I know where you're coming from, but you know I don't make the decisions around here. You could learn to bridge anytime if you took the initiative. Now, let's cut to the chase, now. Are you coming back or not? And are you working for anyone else? Bestroystraw? Rogues?" "No no no, none of that. I'm just taking a break, whether you guys like it or not." "Will you be back?" "Yes! Yes, I will be back. Just, it won't be for a while. That's why I called. I don't know if I'll be welcome, but I will be back, but not for a while." "Like how long a while?" "Like, I don't know. Like a few more weeks, a month. I don't know." "Okay Daptin. We don't want any trouble. Our main concern is loyalty. We understand if you need a break, but you could have called sooner. But if you have had another offer or any contact from another company, I advise you to tell me now, since I'll find out sooner or later anyway." "No Eb, it's just a break, and I haven't called cuz I've been pretty pissed-off, that's all. I will be back, but I don't know exactly when. But it might be like a month or at most like two. Okay?" "Alright Daptin. You know where I stand. I hope to see you back here soon. You're not the only one feeling the strain around here. And Daptin, do you have a number where I can reach you?" "Um... I'm not sure if I can give you this number--hold on." "Well do you have a number of someone who can then get in touch with you? In case of emergency, you know." "I know, I know. Um, I guess I can give you this number. It's the switchboard at a hotel I'm staying at. I uh..." "Which hotel on the Alley is it?" "Um, it's like not exactly on the Alley, but real near it, um." "Which Earth is it on?" "Look, I better not give the number out. You have the number at my apartment and I have a machine there. Just call there if you have to." "Okay Daptin. I hope to see you soon. You are okay, aren't you?" "Yes! I'm fine. No problem." "Well, take care." "Bye bye," Daptin said as he hung up the phone and looked over the buildingtops at the distant Agoopi hinterland. Eb wasn't such a bad guy, but Overwhelm Associates was a really annoying company to work for. Daptin totally wanted to quit, but he had the legitimate fear of losing contact with all the friends he had in Aconck. Maybe this was why they never taught him bridging--the art of travelling between Earths--to keep up the pressure to remain loyal, to keep him needing the bridging services the company could provide. It made some kind of sense, that the ability to cross over into an alternate Earth was not something they'd be overly eager to share. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 1: GOODBYE POPCORN CHAPTER 2 SR-002 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 8 sr08 01.2--Mortal Supply -------------------------- ============================== "You doin' that mission today, man?" the long-haired Minion Van Hall said as he entered the room. "Hm?" Daptin said. "Weren't you gonna do a mission for Cursive Caxopy? Like a secret assignment?" "Yup. Today's the day. Have to prove our mettle as mortals. You know Fake's coming with me." "Yeah I heard. So how'd you get in with that Caxopy chick so soon? Me 'n' Martin 'n' Tanner've been busting our balls to start this whole mortal thing going. Y'know man?" "Well, you guys haven't stayed in Agoopish the whole time like me and Fake have. You have to make a commitment to get things up and running." "I know. Fake's like totally abandoned her life on Earth." "I sort of have too," Daptin said with a shrug. "Yeah. At least there're phones here. If not, it'd be tough." "Uh-huh." Minion sat down on a low couch and Daptin walked across the room and opened a closet. "So Daptin man, I hear you found it with Spanking New Sarah?" Daptin turned, holding a jacket in his hands. "What, does everyone know about this now?" "No man, just like, y'know, all of us. Hear your friend El was pissed." "She was. Very." "Were you like going out with her?" Minion asked. "I spent like a week-and-a-half hanging out with her," Daptin said, "day-in and day-out. It's like, she's a goddess man. Maybe she's not the most gorgeous goddess, but she's pretty damn nice. I was like in torture in wanting her so bad, y'know man? I tried to, y'know, let her know in little ways and stuff. And she seemed into me and stuff, but I dunno. She was just--like she said after she found out--that she wanted to get to know me before getting physical, but I was like, I didn't think it would ever get that far." "So what happened?" Minion asked, cocking his head and resting his index finger on his temple. "I, y'know, I started to like not spend so much time with El and sort of met a different group of gods, and me and Sarah hit it off right away, y'know, and she was like totally into it and I was in no mood to resist or anything. So, like, we did it." "Man! You're the first to find it with a goddess! Man, I'm like--it's like I'm pissed-off man! I gotta do it. I gotta do it." "It's definitely an experience. Well worth the effort," Daptin said. "So what the fuck's it like? Are they different? Is it like, y'know... what's the basic situation with it?" "Uh... it's like being in another world," Daptin said. "I mean, I know we are in another world already, but it's like, I don't know, total bliss, total astral. Like an energy, total ecstasy. Nothing dirty--totally transcendal. It was like the most amazing thing. It's almost... almost like, I dunno, it's so fantastic, but like, it's so great that it's not like sex at all. I mean, it's too involved. I don't know. I'm not saying it's not the best or anything, just that it's not like totally better than with a normal human, y'know, like a regular girl." "I don't know man. It sounds totally excellent. I don't know. I think I'm getting pretty close with a few of 'em. You know like Holly Scroll Bonnie? She's like so cool." "Yeah." "So what's the deal with you and El Flactor Floor? Are you still, like, seeing her?" Minion asked. "Nah," said Daptin. "When she found out about me and Sarah, she said she didn't want to see me for a while. She said she understood, but that she was still hurt by it. I mean, like, what did she expect?" "And Sarah?" "I'm like, y'know, I'm a little burnt from doing it with her. I mean, like I said, it's totally different. I mean, I feel like I almost need a rest. Y'know?" "Yeah. But like, couldn't it be just her? I mean, couldn't her power mantle have something to do with it? I mean, might it be, y'know, different with different goddesses?" "I guess. I guess that makes sense." "I hope I find out. Like I hope I can do like a research paper on it, and like compare all of them," Minion said, chuckling. "Well there're only a couple of hundred, you know." "Yeah, but there are three more cities with the goddesses, don't forget," Minion said. "I know, but we're definitely Agoopi mortals, and the other pantheons probably wouldn't view us with much favor." "I don't know man. I've heard about mortals who work for gods in all four cities, you know, just to who pays the most." "Yeah, but no one can trust 'em. It's like, I think you totally have to choose a city. Y'know? It makes sense. So that the gods and goddesses trust you. Y'know?" "Yeah," Minion said. Daptin put the blue jacket on and looked at himself in the mirror, running his fingers through his full head of dark green hair. "I look like a total dummy. I have to look cool to be a cool mortal who goes on cool missions. Right?" "You look about as good as an Arctican can, Gone." "Hah hah. Very funny. I thought the Arctican jokes would stop once I gained all this power, but I guess that was too much to hope for." "And c'mon man, we're not all that powerful yet. Let's not get ahead of ourselves, dude. Now we have to know our place in the scheme of things." "Oh shut up." "Just trying to be helpful." "Well, all I'll say is, I'm no stranger to power, that's all." "Okay man. We'll see. We'll see how well you do on this mission." "I'm sure I'll do just fine." "I don't know. What's the mission all about, anyway?" Minion asked. "We don't know yet. But they say it will involve going over to Boltpike." "I was over there before. It's pretty cool." "Yeah I know. I never went there yet. I see it on TV a lot. I guess I'll be there in a few hours." "Yeah." As they said this, Fake Cerquaine walked into the room, a short-haired, keen-looking girl from Spoin 5th, the dorm floor at Thatterine College where Tanner Loblolly, Martin Fovea, and Minion Van Hall also currently lived. Daptin had lived there several years earlier. "Ready ready ready for the mission, Daptin?" she asked. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be," Daptin said, looking back into the mirror and fussing with his hair again. "You look fine. We're supposed to be able to blend in, remember? No notoriety, no outrageous features. That's why we're valuable to the Caxopys." "Uh-huh," Daptin said. "So come on, let's go, it's getting late, and we're supposed to stop by that store on the way there to get some stuff," Fake said. "I know I know," Daptin said. "I guess we may as well go now." "Gonna say bye-bye to Sarah?" Fake asked. "I can't like--this is y'know--I can't believe how everyone is like so into my life. I mean, it is sort of personal, y'know?" "Daptin," Fake said, "you found it with a goddess. And not just any goddess, but Spanking New Sarah. You know how everyone lusts after her? And you, you go right in and score on the first try." "What, you lust after her too?" Minion said. "No stupid, but I know a lot of guys around here who do. And I guess a few women, too." "Well you said everyone." "Don't take everything so literally, Minion. I mean, when I call you a total retard I don't mean it like you're really retarded, just that you act like it a lot. Get it?" "Got it." "Good." "Yeah," Daptin said with a sigh. "You can tell me all about her on the way to The Caxopy Group. Now let us go," Fake said, bouncing up and down a few times and turning toward the door. "Yeah," Daptin said, following Fake to the door. "I just hope the salespeople at the store don't like start asking me about Sarah and stuff." "You knew it would be like this, dude, before you even did it," Minion chided. "You went where no Thatter ever went before." "We don't know that," Daptin said. "Well, we'll just have to ask Cursive Caxopy to check her records and see if any Thatterine College student ever had sex with Spanking New Sarah," Fake said, opening the door and stepping into the hallway, followed by Daptin. "I meant any goddess, not just Sarah the Spanker," Minion yelled after them. "She doesn't spank, Minion. And I should know," Daptin yelled back. "She's just 'spanking new'!" Fake said derisively. "Whatever," Daptin said as he shut the door behind him. The two walked down to the elevator bay and Daptin pressed the down button. "Let's do it," Daptin said, nodding. "This mission is gonna be wild." The elevator came and they took it down to the lobby of the Supbam Hotel. "Oh look, isn't that Well Doctarca over there?" Fake said as they stepped out of the elevator. "Yeah, that's him." The god Well Doctarca approached the two on his way to the elevators. "Hello Daptin," said Well, looking dark and preoccupied in his armor as usual. "Hi Well," Daptin responded. Well turned away from the two and faced closed elevator doors. "What's the matter, Well?" Daptin asked after several moments of silence. "I've no desire to converse with you," Well said. "Huh?" Daptin said, surprised. "What's up? I mean--" "--come on Daptin. We have a mission to go on, remember?" Fake said, pulling Daptin away. "Uh, yeah. Well, bye-bye Well. Yeah. Well well well, let's not be too rude, shall we? Have a nice day, uh, y'know, like being friendly and all," Daptin said in a clumsy manner as Fake dragged him away. Well didn't flinch. Fake and Daptin left the hotel and headed for the store. "What was that all about?" Fake asked. "I don't know," Daptin replied. "I know he got pissed off when I asked him a lot of questions at a party I went to with El the other day, but he was civil after that at the party. I mean--maybe it's this whole Sarah thing. That's probably it." "You think it was wise to tell him off like you just did?" "Frankly, I'm not afraid of these goons. They're not all that powerful, in the scheme of things." "Goons? I think you're getting carried away with yourself. Even the most experienced mortals aren't as powerful as the gods. You know that." "Well, maybe I'm not just a mortal--or something--y'know?" "You're full of it," Fake said. "So what if I am?" "You have the directions to the store or what?" "Yeah," Daptin said, reaching into his pocket. "Right here." After a fifteen-minute walk they arrived at Basement-Wall-Thursday Mortal Supply. Inside the store, Nashin-Yogo said "I wonder when those two Caxopy whelps will show up." "Oh, I think they're here now," his assistant Confetti Plura remarked. And the two walked into the ancient store from the weedy street outside. Nashin-Yogo, the tall, long-haired, mustached owner of the store addressed the two. "Hello. You must be the two come to equip for your first assignment for the Caxopys. I'm Nashin-Yogo and this is Confetti Plura." Confetti, a woman with short, curly dark hair and a large pair of glasses nodded at Daptin and Fake. "Yeah hi," Daptin said. "We're uh, Elaine, uh, Elaine Caxopy told us to come over here to get like the stuff we would need for the mission and stuff, but uh--" "--she said you'd know what we would need and stuff. I mean, we never shopped at a place like this before," Fake said. "Hmm," Nashin-Yogo said. "But we certainly heard about this sort of place," Fake added. "Yeah," Daptin said. "Well, since Elaine didn't tell me anything about the mission, I can't tell you what to get. Just browse around and see what you like," Nashin-Yogo said. "And don't be afraid to ask for help," Confetti added. Daptin and Fake looked around at the huge variety of things and were a little bewildered. "Could you, uh, like show us some good stuff?" Daptin said. "I mean, we're running a little late as it is and there's much too much stuff in here to check out right now." "Yeah," Fake agreed. "Well, that shouldn't be any problem. Let's see what we have around here," Nashin-Yogo said as he began to rummage around behind the counter. "Come on up!" Confetti said, and Daptin and Fake climbed the short flight of stairs to the main counter. As they did, they noticed a weird, cloaked figure at the other end of the counter, who they hadn't been able to see before. The stranger looked over at them for a moment, and then went back to browsing. "Now, I hope you two have some idea of what being a mortal involves. We have to deal with some very, very dangerous things," Nashin-Yogo said dramatically. "We have some idea of it, but we're not totally familiar with it," Fake said. Nashin-Yogo nodded as he continued rummaging behind the counter. "Here's something good!" Confetti said suddenly, holding up a little uninflated green balloon. "Well, you take care of 'em, Plura, I have to go help you-know-who," Nashin-Yogo said as he walked away toward the strange individual at the other end of the counter. "What's so good about that balloon?" Daptin asked. "It's not just any balloon," Confetti said. "It's a slay balloon. Much, much better than an average balloon." "In what way?" Fake asked. "Blow it up and pop it, and everything around you will be annihilated." "Wouldn't that kill you, too?" Fake asked. "Not at all. There's a safe area in the immediate vicinity of the slay balloon. And as an added feature, the destructive wave is proportional to the degree the balloon is inflated." "So does it like kill people?" Daptin asked. "Well, it'll kill killable people, certainly. No problem." "Well Fake, whattaya think? Pretty useful, eh?" Daptin said. "Definitely. How much?" "Oh, you can get whatever you want and put it on the Caxopys' account," Confetti said. "Cool! We'll take a lot of 'em," Daptin said. "One great gross enough?" Confetti asked, holding up a large black box. "How many is that?" Fake asked. "I dunno. A lot," Confetti replied. "Sounds good to me," Fake said. "Sold!" "What else?" Daptin asked. "Let's see... oh, here's something good," Confetti said as she knelt down. Then she lifted a cinder block to the countertop. It was gray, with two large holes in it, looking a little like the Roman number III, viewed from the side. "A brick?" Fake asked. "A cinder block," Confetti replied. "Does it have any special powers or is it just normal?" Daptin asked. "Now come on," Confetti said, "at Basement-Wall-Thursday we don't sell regular cinder blocks. No, it's about as intelligent as a dog, and it can fly. Want one?" "Let me see," Fake said. "Okay--cinder block, fly around the room, knock over the green vase, and return to the counter," Confetti commanded. With this, the cinder block flipped wildly into the air, knocked over a green plastic vase, swung around the interior of the store, and returned deftly to the countertop. "Whew! I'll take it!" Fake said. "Sold!" "I want one too!" Daptin said. "Sorry, last one." "Oh!" Daptin whined. "Don't worry, I have something for you," Confetti said, reaching under the counter and pulling something out to show him. "Swizzle sticks?" Daptin queried. "No! They're fucking morons, silly!" "Fucking what?" Daptin asked. "Fucking morons! When you break one of the sticks, a stupid fucking idiot will soon show up and befriend you for a few days. Very useful." "Huh? What good is a fucking moron? And where do they come from?" Daptin asked. "They can be helpful. They carry things, confuse enemies, test food for poison, y'know. And they're extremely amusing." "Oh man," Daptin said. "But they don't like," Fake interjected, "they don't like fuck--like, they aren't called fucking morons cuz they like, y'know, have sex with people, right?" "Now that's sick. You have a sick mind, girl. Of course not," Confetti said. "Well I had to ask, this stuff is so whacked." "No, they don't fuck but they're quite delightful otherwise. You want 'em?" "Okay what the hell," Daptin said. "Sold to the enthusiastic Arctican," Confetti said, pointing to Daptin with a handful of the colorful plastic sticks. "Thank you," Daptin said. "What else? What else?" Fake said excitedly. "Hmm--oh yes. Yes. How could I forget these... these... these..." Confetti said as she rummaged. "These what?" Daptin asked. "These... socks!" Confetti said, producing two pairs of yellow socks covered with lavender polka dots. "Oh, beautiful," Daptin commented. "Not only beautiful, but distinctive!" Confetti said. "Huh?" Daptin asked. "Distinctive time socks. Very, very useful. You know how a clock goes to 59 and then back to zero? Well--not with these socks on. You get to 99 with these." "What?" Fake asked, examining her cinder block. "You get to 59, just like normal," Confetti explained. "But then, with the socks on, instead of going back to zero, you get to 60. You have a whole 40 minutes to yourself--no one else around. Distinctive time. Get it?" "What do you mean no one else? What happens to 'em?" Daptin asked. "They all go back to zero, while you, if you're wearing the socks, go right on to 60." "But where are the other people, physically?" Daptin said. "Every living thing goes right to zero like I said, but inanimate objects all have that extra 40 minutes. And with these socks on, you can too," Confetti explained. "So it's like time stops?" Daptin asked. "Sort of, in terms of everyone else. But everything is normal, except that nothing living is there, except sock-wearers." "Sounds pretty damn good to me! We'll take 'em," Daptin said. "Cinder block, fly around," Fake said, and with these words the cinder block arose and began to fly haphazardly around the store. "Pretty cool," Daptin said. "I wish I had one." "Well now--uh--what's your name again?" Confetti asked Daptin. "Daptin. Uh, Daptin Gone." "Oh! You're the one who slept with Spanking New Sarah!" Confetti said. "That's him. My name is Fake, by the way," Fake said, jumping down the stairs to chase her cinder block. "This is, like, nuts. How can everyone know about this so soon? If I'd known, I'd have had second thoughts." "Yeah right. Come land gently in my hands, cinder block!" Fake said, and the block swung around and landed gracefully into her outstretched hands. "Whoah! You're pretty heavy!" she said as she took on the weight of the block. "Look Confetti, forget about this Sarah thing. I want something as cool as the cinder block," Daptin said. "The socks are pretty cool," Confetti responded. "Yeah, but there're two pairs. I want something cool and unique, just like the block." "Daptin, cinder blocks are pretty common, it's just that that's our last one for awhile," Confetti said. "Well." "Okay, let me see what I can dig up," Confetti said as she turned around and started looking around on some shelves. After a few moments, she sighed and began to climb up the shelves. "I--uh--don't go out of your way on my account..." Daptin said in a worried tone. "Well, I have to find you something good, don't I?" "Yeah but..." Confetti clung onto the shelves and peered into a dark corner of a high shelf. "Aha! What's this?" She reached out, grabbed something, and then half fell and half jumped back to the ground. "Oonf!" "Are you okay?" Daptin asked. From the other end of the store, Fake said "Do ballet, cinder block!" "Yes Daptin. Just a little shaken. Now let's see what I got." "What is it?" "Oh goodness," Confetti said, looking at what appeared to be a magic marker. "Goodness." "What is it? What is it? Is it good?" Daptin said. "Uh..." Confetti began slowly. "I don't know if..." "What is it? A pen?" "Well I'll tell you," Confetti said with a sigh. "It's a geometric weight marker, but I thought we'd seen the last of these." "Cool!" "But Daptin, these markers are very, very dangerous. Maybe I should ask Nashin-Yogo if--" "--just hold on a second. What does it do, first of all?" "Well the idea is pretty simple. The ink from the marker, once dry, begins to get heavier and heavier at a geometric rate, until it eventually bores into the ground." "That sounds pretty good!" "Yeah, but if you get even a little bit on your skin, it'll rip your skin right off eventually--and there's no way to stop it." "Ouch." Across the store, the cinder block was clumsily spinning and stumbling around. "Ballet! Ballet!" Fake said. "What if you wash it off right away?" "It works if you do it real quick, but you need the right solvent. And we've been out of solvent for decades." "Hmm. I think I can handle it. I'll take it." "Okay Daptin," Confetti said, "but I think you should get some situation grenades with it, just in case you get some on your skin." "Uh--you expect me to know what that is?" "No, so I'll tell you. They're grenades that demolish local situation and force it to reravel. So if you got geometrically marked, you could detonate a situation grenade and totally get out of the situation." "That sounds like the best thing yet! I want a lot of them!" "Sold," Confetti said. "Follow me, cinder block," Fake said as she came back up to the counter. "Now land on the counter." The cinder block landed on the counter, carefully avoiding a cup of soda Confetti had been drinking. "I think that thing's a little more intelligent than a dog," Daptin said. "I think it's even smarter than you, Daptin," Fake said with a grin. "Haha," Daptin said. "What else can we get?" Fake asked. "Well?" Daptin asked of Confetti. "How 'bout the books in that case over there?" Fake asked, pointing. "Oh no," Confetti said. "Skoobs are for very experienced mortals only. Don't even think of getting any." "Why not?" Daptin asked. "Because, they're extremely unstable. Just imagine a book carried between worlds in totally the wrong way. They're backward, inside-out, unreal, destroyed, infinite, brooding, wonderful--and they're totally off limits." "Not even one?" Daptin asked. "Forget it," Confetti said. "Try these." Confetti reached under the counter and produced a canister, opened it, and poured a few dried peas into her hand." "Conductor voice peas," she said. "Come again?" Daptin said. "Eat 'em and you'll sound like a train conductor over a distorted train loudspeaker. Very fun." "What good are they?" Daptin said. "I don't know. Be creative." "Okay! Why not! I'll take 'em." "Heh heh. Won't Cursive and Elaine be surprised when they see their bill." "Well, let's not worry about that now," Daptin said. "We just have to get all the stuff we need and get over there to The Caxopy Group." "Oh Daptin, there's no rush," Fake said. "What else, Confetti?" The three heard a loud moaning from somewhere in the store, but it quickly subsided. "Well Fake," Confetti said, lugging a big cardboard box up to the counter, "how about some huge tin clocks?" The box was neatly packed with little tin cuckoo clocks the size of cigarette packs. "They don't look very huge to me," Daptin said. "Aha, but if you throw one up in the air, it'll become an immense clock in the sky--much to the horror of all who view it." "This stuff is just right over the edge, like, I mean, I don't know. I mean, I'll take it. Whatever," Daptin said, shaking his head. "Great!" Confetti said. "What's that popcorn over there?" Fake asked, pointing. "Goodbye popcorn. Eat it, and you can say goodbye to existence for a few hours." "Is it dangerous?" Fake asked. "Not at all. It just makes you not exist for awhile, that's all." "Wow, I could use some of that!" Fake said. "Sold." "Like, what do you mean out of existence? Where do you go?" Daptin asked. "Nowhere. You wanna try it?" Confetti said, grabbing a bag of goodbye popcorn. "No way!" "Go ahead. If you just eat a tiny bit you'll be gone for less than a minute. Try it. It's fun," Confetti said, opening the bag. "Oh go ahead and do it," Fake said. "I don't know." Confetti took a piece of popcorn out of the bag and carefully broke off a tiny bit, handing it to Daptin. "Don't be afraid of it! It won't do anything if you don't eat it!" Confetti said, smiling. Daptin hesitantly took the small piece of goodbye popcorn and examined it. "Just eat it, Daptin. You'll be back before you know it," Confetti said. Daptin looked back and forth at Confetti and Fake. "Oh come on, don't be a chicken," Fake jeered. "If you can do it with Spanking New Sarah, you can eat a little goodbye popcorn." "That's it--I can't stand talking about that any more. Here goes!" Daptin said as he tossed the piece of popcorn into his mouth. He began to chew it briefly, and then quickly vanished. "Wha!" Fake exclaimed. "He should be back in less than a minute," Confetti said. "How does it work?" Fake asked. "Now that's a question to be answered another day. Not that anyone really knows, but people certainly have their ideas." "But like, where does all this stuff come from? Who makes it?" Fake asked. "I can't get into that with you right now. Sorry," Confetti said. "Whatever." "Well, while we're waiting for Daptin, let's see what else you need. Hmm," Confetti said, looking around. "Ah yes--no mortal is happy without an infinite-ammo submachinegun. Here ya go." Confetti reached under the counter and produced a two different-looking submachineguns. "Like, guns, like, to kill people?" Fake asked. "Yeah. And to destroy stuff, propel boats, signal cohorts, open doors, whatever. If you need metal, you have a never-ending supply in one of these babies. The bullets make good ballast, if you find yourself in need of ballast, that is." "Well yeah, but I'm not sure about the killing people part." "Hey, it's your gun--kill or don't kill as you choose, y'know?" "Yeah." "This is," the two heard Daptin say off to the right. "Oh you're back," Fake said. "This is what," Daptin said, approaching the two. "He'll be dazed for a few seconds. You always are upon hatching back into reality," Confetti said. "This... I am back, I... I, the popcorn, I... oh man." "See Daptin, it works. And here, have a machinegun," Fake said, handing Daptin one of the infinite-ammo submachineguns. "Thanks," Daptin said, taking the gun. "Y'know, I don't remember anything. How long was I gone?" "Only about thirty or forty seconds," Fake said. "Huh. Some trip," Daptin said, examining his machinegun. "What's so good about this?" "Infinite ammo," Confetti said. "Cool," Daptin replied. "Oh--" Confetti said. "While you were gone I found the perfect item for you. You're from Arctica right? Am I right?" "Yes I'm from Arctica. Not like the green hair gives it away or anything," Daptin said. "Well Daptin, just look at this," Confetti said as she produced what appeared to be a brown vest engulfed in a blue-gray fire. "Ah--what the hell is that?" Daptin asked. "It's a frost flame delimiter, silly! Just got it in. I thought it would be perfect for you, like a wintry cold sort of theme, y'know?" "Yeah, well I'm certainly familiar with the cold. But that thing's like on fire--isn't it just the opposite--hot?" "Frost flame, it's frost flame. A fire which burns cold. Nothing like it on Earth. This delimiter preserves it from wherever it came from. But you wear it like a vest, and you can wield the flame to do a lot of useful stuff." "Won't I freeze?" Daptin asked. "No--you'll assimilate to it soon enough. The wearer doesn't get very cold, and you can regulate the flame. The best part is you can shoot it out, extend it, y'know, basically wield it. I figured since Fake got the cinder block I'd give you this. Lucky I found it before someone else bought it." "Well, what the hell. I dislocated myself from the world with popcorn, why not don a cold-burning vest?" Daptin said as he took the frost flame delimiter from Confetti and put it on over his blue jacket. The gray flame danced all about him. "Ooh, cold!" Daptin said. "It'll always feel cold when you first put it on, but you'll feel normal soon enough. Here--do a test," Confetti said, holding out her half-full cup of soda. "Extend the flame to engulf the cup, to chill my soda." Daptin pointed his hand toward the soda and willed the flame to reach outward. Jerkily, the frost flame licked the cup and quickly chilled it. "That's all there is to it. If you can will the flame to do that, you can eventually learn to will it to do anything," Confetti said, taking a sip of her chilled beverage. "Hmm. Now this I like. It's getting comfortable already." "Well now we have a lot of stuff. I wonder if we can even carry it all," Fake said. "Yeah. We have more than enough stuff for the mission. I guess we should get going soon," Daptin said. "Well here, before you go, take some caviar," Confetti said, placing several glass containers of caviar on the countertop. "Okay Confetti, what special properties does the caviar have?" Daptin asked. "Does it turn you into a finch? Teleport barrels? Do sky writing?" "No, it's just ordinary caviar, compliments of the house. We always have lots of it around. Nothing weird," Confetti said. "Hmm. Interesting," Fake commented. "But if you ever do want to turn into a finch, or teleport barrels, or do sky writing, stop by again and I'm sure we'll be able to accommodate you," Confetti said with a smile. "I'll remember that," Daptin said. "But the clocks--they're sort of like sky writing. Y'know?" "A little. I guess you could carve writing into one. I never saw it done before, but it's certainly possible," Confetti said. "Well--so how do we pack all this stuff up?" Fake asked. "Okay, let me add this up," Confetti said. "There's the cinder block, which I can see you're very happy with, Fake. Then there's the socks, and the fucking morons, and the great gross of slay balloons. Okay. And the marker--now Daptin, be extremely careful with that thing--they've been known to topple office buildings, so just be cool with it. Alright? Okay--the situation grenades of course, the huge tin clocks, the free caviar, the frost flame delimiter you're wearing, the submachineguns. Now what am I forgetting? Oh yeah--three bags of goodbye popcorn, and--what else? I know there's one more thing..." "Yeah, the special peas. Right?" Daptin said. "Oh yes--one canister of conductor voice peas. These are great fun." "Life of the party," Daptin said. Confetti looked over the bill she had been writing. "Okay, everything looks to be in order!" Confetti said with an approving expression. "Yeah, but how're we gonna carry the stuff all the way over to the Caxopys?" Daptin asked. "And how much does it all cost?" Fake queried. "Don't worry about it," Came a voice from behind them. They turned to see the leather-clad Cursive Caxopy with a lit cigarette in her hand. "Oh hi Cursive," Confetti said. "Just finished equipping your proteges." "I see. I see," Cursive said. "I'm glad you're here. You can help us carry all this stuff back to your place," Daptin said. "Oh, no need. We can use my disappear simulator to disappear over there," Cursive said. "You can disappear like the gods?" Fake asked. "Of course I can--can't you, Fake?" "No." "Well, gather all your junk up and let's go. I came by because you're late. This mission is time-sensitive, and we have to get it started. Come on you two." "Hey okay," Daptin said. "One pile of junk coming right up," Fake said. Just then, Elaine Caxopy, Cursive's sister and business partner, walked into Basement-Wall-Thursday Mortal Supply. She wore a pretty, light-blue dress--the antithesis of Cursive's hard attire. "Oh, you're here. I was just coming by to see if our two recruits are all set," Elaine said. "They're done," Cursive said, taking a drag on her cigarette. "We were about to disappear over in my simulator." "Well," Elaine said, looking a little hesitant, "okay. But my truck's outside. You'll take care of it, won't you Confetti?" "Of course," Confetti said, and Elaine tossed her the keys to the truck. "No need to gather 'round--I'm good at this," Cursive said. The next moment, Cursive, Elaine, Daptin and Fake were in the offices of The Caxopy Group. "Nice simulation," Elaine said. Cursive didn't reply. "Well you two, come on. We have a cup of coffee to show you," Elaine said urgently. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 1: GOODBYE POPCORN CHAPTER 3 SR-003 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 9 sr09 01.3.1--Caxopy Group -------------------------- ============================== "Notice the strange glyphs on the styrofoam--we haven't been able to match these to any known form of writing," Elaine Caxopy said to Daptin Gone and Fake Cerquaine, gingerly holding a twenty-ounce styrofoam coffee cup with a plastic lid. "Probably just a silly corporate logo," Cursive Caxopy said with a sneer. "So this is our mission?" Daptin asked. "Buying coffee?" "Don't be an idiot," Cursive said tersely. "I just thought--" Daptin started. "Would we need all these supplies just to buy coffee, Daptin?" Fake said. "I mean--maybe there're some weird, super weird coffee shops or delis in Boltpike. I mean I don't know," Daptin said. "You can see the coffee's still hot--you can see the steam. They must've just got it--and without our help," Fake said. "You're both very, very, very mistaken," Elaine said. "Open your minds and listen. This is the Cup of Coffee. And we didn't just get it--in fact, by our estimates it's well over 40,000 years old. Now just wait--there's more. Hold on a second." With this, Elaine placed the cup carefully on her desk. "Tavmatey--are you with us?" Elaine asked, facing the cup. Silence. "Tavmatey Numblem--if you can hear me, please respond. Please. We have two new friends here." "Well I don't--" Daptin began. "Quiet!" Elaine snapped as she held out her arm. Then a small voice emerged from deep within the cup. "Hi Elaine," said the distant yet distinctly husky female voice. "Hi Tav. The two are here, the two we told you about last time we talked. Remember?" Elaine said, staring distantly at the cup. After a pause, Tavmatey said "I remember. The rescue team." "That's right. They're off to Boltpike to retrieve you," Elaine said. "Oh boy, I can't wait to get out of here," Tavmatey said. "Now is she in the cup in some way," Faked asked, "or is it just a means of communicating?" "Good question," Cursive said. "We're not entirely sure, but we know one thing--the sound of the girl's voice gets louder in some places and softer in others. And by mapping our various readings, we've determined that she must be somewhere in Boltpike." "So there it is," Elaine said. "You have to go into Boltpike with the cup and find where the voice is the loudest. Your relative anonymity will be of great help--if one of us were seen wandering about Boltpike listening to a cup of coffee, there'd be trouble for sure." "Yeah, but like--when we get there, to where the voice is loudest, then what?" Daptin asked, staring at the cup. "At that point things will be getting clearer for you," Elaine said. "You should be able to perceive some sort of entryway--a door, a hatch, a curtain, a window--something. This will likely be a one-way portal of some class. So remember--and this is vitally important--do not go all the way through the portal. No. Just go halfway, and you should be able to see Tavmatey. At this point, she can come back to The Avert Cities with you. But be careful--we don't want you getting stuck too." Daptin's stomach growled loudly. "Hungry, Daptin?" Cursive asked. "Um yeah," Daptin replied. "The only thing I ate today was a Twix." "Twix?" Cursive asked. "Isn't that a candy bar from the future?" "Uh, no. As far as I know, Twix has been around for a few years. Maybe you're thinking of a new flavor they're working on?" "No..." Cursive said, looking down. "I guess it was some other candy bar from the future I was thinking of." "Do you time travel?" Fake asked. "Yeah," Cursive said distantly. "Sometimes." "Cool," Daptin said, nodding. "I'd like a Twix," came Tavmatey's little voice from the cup. "I think I remember it. Caramel cookie treats?" "With chocolate," Fake said. Tavmatey didn't reply, so Fake looked around and then moved her face closer to the cup. "With chocolate," she repeated. "Yeah," Tavmatey said. "I'll order out for the briefing," Cursive said. "Any preferences you two, foodwise?" "Pasta beverage and crullers might be good," Fake suggested. "Um--maybe some eight eggs with filberts or something? Or custard grain?" Daptin said. "You can have pizza, pizza, pizza, pizza, pizza, pizza, or pizza," Cursive said. "Some selection," Fake said. "Could you repeat the list, Cursive?" Daptin asked. "Pizza. Wow," came Tavmatey's voice. "Well I'm ordering from Xould Pete's Camera. And they have pizza," Cursive said, almost belligerently. "Fine! Like why'd ya ask then?" Daptin wondered. "To see what foods you like. You can tell a lot about a guy from what he eats," Cursive said. "What about a gal?" Fake asked. "Why, are you a gal, Fake?" Cursive asked, taking her cigarette from her lips. "You could say that," Fake said. "Well," Cursive said, looking from Fake to Daptin, "what will we have to drink?" "Pepsi, Pepsi, Pepsi, Pepsi or Pepsi?" Daptin asked. "What, are you funny? Xould Pete's Camera is a great restaurant. They have every drink ever," Cursive said shaking her head back and forth in a flippant manner. "Well then I suppose I'll have a Mr. Pibb. They do have that, I trust?" Daptin said. "Of fucking course!" Cursive said. "And you, gal?" "Hmm... how about... Diet Cool Ranch Tempura Honeysuckle Nectar Beer Classic?" Fake asked. "You made it up," Cursive said. "I drink that all the time here," came Tavmatey's voice. "Come on, don't make up stories," Elaine said toward the cup. "Just trying to make conversation. So I never drank it. But it sounds good," Tavmatey said. "Now something real," Cursive said. "It is real--from the future," Fake said. "As a mortal, I'll be fabulously wealthy, and I'll eventually bottle my delectable drink. So it exists somewhere in superreality--and if they have everything, they should have the cool ranch honeysuckle whatever I said." "You're a little wise ass, but I like you," Cursive said to Fake. "For you, antimatter iced espresso." "Fine," Fake said, a bit irritated. "And I'll take a camera, too," Daptin said. "Cool your jets, tiger. I can take just so much dead-on sarcastic wit in a day," Cursive said as she got up to walk out of the room. "Food'll be here in fifteen." "Okay," Elaine said. A quarter hour later Cursive arrived back with the food, and the four entered a conference room on the third floor of The Caxopy Group, along with the Cup of Coffee. "So I wanna discuss this whole killing thing," Daptin said. "What do you mean?" Elaine asked. "I mean, a lot of the stuff we got at Basement-Wall-Thursday seems designed with killing people in mind. And I know, I mean, there was a light atmosphere there, but like, are we really gonna be expected to kill people?" Daptin wondered. "Whereas this line of work might seem silly and fun to the uninitiated," Cursive said, "we still speak the universal language--violence. One branching of violence is killing. When one bars your path, he can resist all reasoning, but he cannot resist superior force, by definition. The gentle is myth. While it might seem snuggly to harmlessly tranquilize all opponents, the truth is that when dealing in violence, serious injury and murder is unavoidable." "I have something which might help you with this moral queasiness," Elaine said as she walked over to a desk, opened a drawer, and took out a black metal coin, a little bigger than a silver dollar. "What is it?" Fake asked. "Have a look," Elaine said as she handed the coin to Fake. Fake took the coin and examined it. On the front it had the face of an angry looking fellow wearing circle-framed glasses with wind blowing through his hair. Below the portrait were the words "Him: Scientist". On the back was a rendition of a sort of huge pillar with some people at its base staring up at it. Several eight-digit numbers also adorned the back. "Cool," Fake said. "My Dad would love this. He's big into numismatics." "No one on Earth would recognize it," Cursive said. "Let me see," Daptin said. Fake handed the coin to Daptin across the big table, as Cursive smiled at Elaine. "Pretty neat. What is he, a famous scientist around here?" Daptin said. Elaine smiled but said nothing. "What's wrong?" Daptin said. "Feel any different?" asked Cursive. "No--should I?" Daptin said. "Not too different," Elaine said, smiling. "But you are changed." "Am I changed too?" asked Fake. "Yes," Cursive said. "What is it?" asked Daptin, placing the coin carefully onto the table. "That's a killable coin. By touching it, you're no longer killable. Congratulations," Cursive said. "What?" Daptin asked, contorting his face in confusion. "You can't be killed anymore," Elaine said. "Me too?" Fake asked. "Yup," Cursive replied. "But," Daptin said, "we're like, we're mortals, right? Mortal means we're going to die, right? So what--" "--as mortals we will eventually die, unlike the gods, who live forever," Elaine said. "But with this technique, we can prevent premature death." "So how long do we live?" Fake asked. "Hundreds, thousands, even tens of thousands of years," Cursive said. "A drop in the bucket of a god's lifetime. But enough of this dark talk--let's eat! Lots of pizza for all, and beverages galore." Cursive took a number of cups and cans out of a bag. "Where's my Mr. Pibb?" Daptin asked. "All out. I got you Blueberry Mello Yello instead," Cursive said, handing him a blue and yellow can. "Never heard of blueberry-flavored Mello Yello," Daptin said, examining the can. "Now you have. And here's your antimatter iced espresso, Fake, my dear," Cursive said, handing Fake a black and bright-orange bottle. "There isn't real antimatter in here, is there?" Fake asked, taking the bottle. "A trace amount of antineutrons. Gives it a fruity flavor," Cursive replied. "Well, it says on the bottle that it's completely safe, so I'll take their word for it," Fake said. "What'd you get?" Daptin asked Cursive. "Oh," Cursive said, holding up a colorful can, "I got a can of Diet Cool Ranch Tempura Honeysuckle Nectar Beer Classic. They had it after all." "Hey that's mine!" Fake exclaimed. "Hey babe, you agreed on the espresso. Get your own DCRTHNBC," Cursive replied. "Oooh!" Fake said angrily. "And here's your Cotton Anti, Elaine," Cursive said, handing Elaine a large boxed beverage. "Antimatter cotton drink. Now this is good stuff," Elaine said. "Antimatter drinks are big these days in Agoopish, if you two hadn't noticed," Cursive said. "Hey, why is my Blueberry Mello Yello green?" Daptin asked, pouring his drink into a clear plastic cup. "Blue and yellow is green. Q.E.D.," Cursive said. "Maybe I could have some water? Some distilled, chemically pure water?" Daptin asked. "Come on--drink it. It's good for you!" Cursive said. "Let me see that Cool Ranch Nectar whatever can!" Fake said loudly to Cursive. Just then, a buzzer went off. "Jerald's here," Elaine said. "Jerald will be helping you on your mission," Cursive said with a smile. "Can!" Fake yelled. Cursive placed the can on the table and left the room. Fake reached across the table and grabbed the can. "Wow. It's just what I said. So they did have it," Fake said, bewildered. "So they have an algorithmic beverage generator--so what," Elaine said. "Are you guys gonna retrieve me," Tavmatey said from within the Cup of Coffee, "or are you gonna talk about drinks all day long?" "We'll get to you," Elaine said. "I hope so," said Tavmatey. "Here's Jerald," Cursive said as she entered the room with heavyset fellow with short, straight blond hair. "Jerald Hapal Hatch," Elaine said, "meet Fake Cerquaine and Daptin Gone." "Hullo," Jerald said. "Hi," said Daptin and Fake. "Jerald's from Fiestarkoon. Found Agoopish a few weeks ago just like you guys," Cursive said. "You guys are from Baskonontana, right?" Jerald asked. "Well, I live there now, but I'm originally from Arctica," Daptin said. "I'm a native Powerssippian myself," added Fake. "The best area in Baskonontana, if I do say so myself." "Huh," Jerald said. "Have a seat, Jerald. We have a lot to discuss," Elaine said. "Pizza?" Jerald asked. "All in good time," Cursive responded. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 1: GOODBYE POPCORN CHAPTER 4 SR-004 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 11 sr11 01.3.2--Mission -------------------------- ============================== Several hours after their meeting at The Caxopy Group, Jerald, Fake, and Daptin were on Earth. They stood in a service corridor in the Fozsapple Circle Mall in Plutomiana, Baskonontana. Daptin was wearing his frost flame delimiter, a vest which burned with a cold blue-gray flame. Fake's intelligent cinder block hovered a few feet above her. Jerald wore a cowboy hat. "Why'd we have to come back to Earth and ride in Cursive's dumb station wagon for 45 minutes?" Jerald asked. "Couldn't we get to Boltpike directly from Agoopish?" "Get the shit outta your ears, Hatch," Fake said. "You know this is a much more obscure entrance to Boltpike, and therefore, a safer one." "Yeah," Daptin said, kneeling down, placing the Cup of Coffee on the ground, and adjusting his infinite-ammo submachinegun on its strap around his shoulder. "I just hope we can get over to that record store and over the bridge before mall security begins to hassle us." "Who cares?" Jerald said. "We can smoke 'em no problem with our weapons." "Jerald!" Fake said, turning around and pointing her finger in his face. "We cannot afford any incidents here on Earth! And I for one am not prepared to hurt anybody unless we absolutely have to, whether or not we're invulnerable." "Who says we're invulnerable?" Jerald asked, stroking his infinite-ammo submachinegun. "The coin, dummy," Fake said. "What coin?" Jerald asked. "The black coin, the killable one. Didn't you touch it?" Daptin asked, carefully picking the Cup of Coffee back up and standing. "What are you talking about? I never saw any coin," Jerald said. "Well, just forget it then," Daptin said, opening the door leading into the mall proper a little to peer out. "What do you mean forget it? They gave you a power and forgot to give it to me?" Jerald asked, upset. "I guess they did," Fake said, annoyed. "Maybe they didn't feel you deserved it." "I deserve it! Hey, I deserve it! Let's go back and let me get it!" Jerald moaned. "Listen, you ass-backward Fiestarkoon idiot--this mission will go forward as planned. Get it?" Fake said angrily. "I'm not prepared to go any further with you elitist Baskonontanans. I'm going back to Agoopish and get my coin," Jerald whined. Daptin turned to face Jerald, his hands inches from his gun. "This mission will go forward as we've been instructed," Daptin said. "Don't second guess the Caxopys--they've been doing this since before our parents had sex to conceive us. For whatever reason, they appointed Fake as group leader for this mission--so her word is final." "Don't threaten me," Jerald said. "You're threatening me, just cuz I can be killed and you can't. I won't have it." "Jerald!" Fake yelled. "If you hadn't noticed, we're all on the same team. We're not threatening you. Elaine showed us the coin for a reason--because we were concerned about the possibility of killing. She thought if we were invulnerable, it might desensitize us a little. And reluctant as I am to admit it, I do feel less sensitive on the matter now that my own death is precluded." "And you, Jerald," Daptin said. "You didn't need such a treatment, with your gung ho, 'let's kill some innocent mall security guards' attitude. Get some brains, man. Just because we have the power doesn't mean we have the right to abuse it. I mean, did you ever kill anyone? Do you know what it is to live the rest of your life with that memory?" "No," Jerald said. "But if it's kill or be killed, I know what to do." "Excuse me," came Tavmatey's voice from the Cup, much fainter now than at The Caxopy Group. "Excuse me, Daptin?" "Hold on--yes?" Daptin said, holding the Cup near his ear. "Now that we're away from Elaine and Cursive I can tell you a few things," Tavmatey said. "First of all, as they said, the mission is time-sensitive. But I didn't tell them everything. If I don't get out of here soon, I don't know if I'll last. So please, for goodness sakes, stop bickering and save my sorry ass!" "Jerald?" Daptin said. Jerald paused, and then relaxed. "Okay," Jerald said. "I'll try to handle the unfairness internally. I do want a coin, though, and I hope you two will back me up when we get back." "You only have to touch it," Fake said. "You don't get to keep it." "Oh," Jerald said. "Okay--I think I see the record store," Daptin said. "Now let's walk over there calmly. Chances are, if we act normal, any security folks who see us'll be confused enough that we can get over the bridge before they react. Okay?" "Well I thought I was the leader here, but okay," Fake said. "Sorry--it's just that you heard what Tavmatey said--we're in a hurry," Daptin said. "No harm done. Let's go. Cinder block--follow close behind us," Fake said. Daptin opened the door and the three of them stepped out into the mall. They walked briskly, one after the other. "Break it up!" Daptin said. "Don't walk right behind me--it looks suspicious." "Like your vest isn't the most suspicious thing ever!" Jerald said. "I'm keeping the flames as low as I can," Daptin said through clenched teeth. "The cinder block's not helping either," Jerald said. Fake didn't respond. Then Fake and Jerald came up beside Daptin as they headed for an escalator. Though the mall was crowded, few people noticed the three with their guns and grenades and such. "Daptin," Tavmatey's tiny voice came. "Daptin, we can talk freely now. How've you been?" "Huh?" Daptin said, holding the Cup up to his ear, looking around to make sure this wasn't attracting attention. "You can stop pretending you don't know me," Tavmatey said. "I don't know you. I mean, I just met you today," Daptin said as they started walking up the escalator. "Daptin, are you afraid they're still monitoring you somehow?" Tavmatey asked. "No!" Daptin said. "I just don't know what you're talking about. Did I know you in school or something?" "Daptin! We were going out--don't you remember?" Tavmatey said. "Hold on," Daptin said. They got to the top of the escalator and spotted a few mall security guards nearby, looking in their direction. Though the guards glanced at the three, they didn't react. "Daptin--I'm serious," Tavmatey said. "Remember, when you transferred to Shirt University as a Junior? That's when we met." "Listen--I never went to Shirt University. I went to Thatterine College all four years--Fake will attest to that," Daptin said. "Huh?" Fake said, as they approached the record store, 'Bithopa Rocken'. "Nothing," Daptin replied. "This is it--Bithopa Rocken." "Let's just hope we can find the bridge," Jerald said. "Shut up!" Fake yelled. "Keep it down! Keep it down," Daptin said. They entered the store and looked around. "Where's the balcony?" Jerald said loudly. "Will you keep it down?" Daptin said. "There is no balcony here," Fake said. "I'm gonna ask the cashier what's going on." "Don't--" Daptin said, but Fake was already cutting into the line of customers at the register. "Excuse me!" Fake yelled. "Excuse me!" The cashier, who had been talking with a customer, looked over. "Where is the balcony?" Fake yelled, over the loud music. The cashier, a scrawny little guy, eyed Fake's gun and said "We have one at the other store downstairs. Why do you ask?" Fake didn't answer, but motioned for the other two to follow her out of the store. Once out, she noticed a few guards in the distance pointing toward the three, apparently concerned at the floating cinder block. "Shit! We have to go to the Bithopa Rocken downstairs, wherever the hell it might be," Fake said, jogging back to the escalator. "Wait!" Daptin said. "Not so fast--it looks suspicious!" The three got to the escalator and bounded down it, Daptin matching the pace of the other two. The cinder block zoomed along behind them. "Daptin!" Tavmatey yelled from the Cup. "Not now, Tavmatey. We have some trouble!" said Daptin. "I think I see a map over there," Fake said as she began jogging toward one of the mall's several atriums. "Goddammit slow down!" Daptin yelled, following Fake and Jerald. "Here it is. It's here," Fake said, finding a large map of the mall. "So where's our store?" Daptin asked, looking around for guards. "Hmmm--let's see," Fake said, examining the map. "Women's apparel. Jewelry. Sporting goods. Children's--" Jerald said. "Shut up man!" Daptin said. "Just find the damn store, how hard can it--" "--here it is--Haxelbong's wing on the right--over this way!" Fake said, pointing. "Okay, but slow down!" Daptin said. They walked briskly toward Haxelbong's department store, Daptin looking around nervously the whole way. They passed a little ferris wheel, then spotted the second Bithopa Rocken. "Come on!" Fake exclaimed, breaking into a run. "Shit!" Daptin exclaimed. They entered the store, spotted the balcony, strode up the stairs, and stopped to get their bearings. "Okay," Daptin said, "behind a record rack, right?" "Yeah," Fake said. "Look! Down there!" Jerald said loudly. Down in the store, they saw two security guards talking with a cashier, who then pointed toward the three mortals. "They have guns," the cashier, a heavy-set woman, said. The guards looked up and saw the three. "I don't get it," one of the guards said. "Come on--they're confused. We should be able to cross the bridge before they come up," Fake said, looking behind a record rack. "Here it is!" Jerald yelled, as he slid in between a rack and the back wall. "Okay that must be it," Daptin said, as he and Fake followed Jerald. The security guards were just getting up the stairs. "Okay what's the problem?" one of the guards said lethargically. "Hey you jerks!" Jerald yelled at the guards. "Ha ha! Forget it!" With this, Jerald pointed his submachine upward and began firing, spraying bullets back and forth into the ceiling. "Don't mess with us--it's not worth it!" Jerald yelled. "You fucking little dork!" Daptin yelled, shoving Jerald hard. Jerald and Daptin fell down, followed by Fake. Jerald had stopped firing, but bits of the ceiling could still be heard raining down on the record store. "You're dead, man. That's it," Daptin said as he spied an opening in the floor underneath the record rack. "Come on--into the hole. They shouldn't be able to follow us if this is a bridge," Fake said. "I'm in charge now!" Jerald said. "We have to seal the bridge behind us so they don't follow." Daptin slapped Jerald hard on the back of his head. "Shut up!" Daptin said in a loud whisper. "They won't be able to bring themselves to look back here unless they're mortals--which I highly doubt." "But I just shot--" Jerald said. Daptin put his hand over Jerald's mouth, squeezing hard. "Shut the fuck up! Don't you understand anything? They can't look behind here if it's a bridge--they just fucking can't," Daptin whispered harshly at Jerald. Fake, who had scooted past the sparring two, lowered herself into the square hole in the floor. Her cinder block floated carefully beside her and then descended after her into the space below. "Hand me the Cup of Coffee, Daptin, and then get the hell down here!" Fake said. Daptin handed her the Cup of Coffee and let go of Jerald. "I'll deal with you once we're in Boltpike," Daptin said, as he began to lower himself down into the hole. "Come on," Fake said from below. Daptin arrived at what seemed to be a space above the ceiling of the store below. He had to crouch down as he looked around into the darkness. The frost flame from Daptin's vest faintly lit the area. "Is he coming?" Fake asked from nearby. "No--he's getting up--" Daptin said. "Just grab him and pull him down," Fake said, losing patience. Daptin's hand shot up and grabbed Jerald's ankle. "Hey!" Jerald yelled. Daptin pulled Jerald down into the crawlspace with a loud thud. After he landed, Daptin grabbed Jerald's collar and pulled him up so the two were face to face. "Listen you turd," Daptin said, slapping Jerald across the face. "I'll freeze your ass if you don't shape up!" With this, Daptin willed his frost flame to flare up, sending a chilly blast of cold air through the crawlspace. "Understand?" Daptin demanded. Jerald closed his eyes and coughed hoarsely. "Understand?" Daptin asked again, shaking his fellow mortal. "Yes," Jerald said, coughing. "I understand. Now quit it." Daptin let Jerald go and diminished the intensity of his frost flame. From above, they heard someone say "Well they got away. No use looking for them around here." "See Hatch?" Daptin said. "In their minds, we just got away--even though it makes no sense. Their minds refuse to think about or grasp the back of this record rack in any way. That's the way it works. See, idiot?" "I found the direction," Fake said. "Off this way." "Get up," Daptin said to Jerald, who complied. The two then followed Fake through an air vent into a corridor that was larger than the crawlspace. Daptin's frost flame provided a flickery illumination as the three continued down the hallway that was lined with wooden planks. "I don't think we're in Plutomiana anymore," Fake said distantly. "Are you guys finally in Boltpike?" Tavmatey asked, her voice definitely louder than it had been in the mall. "I guess we're almost there," Daptin said. "I'm through with this mission," Jerald said. "I thought you'd be more professional. I can't work with people like you." Daptin turned to face Jerald. "Do you understand that we can't afford to have an incident on Earth?" Daptin said. "Didn't Elaine make that very, very clear?" "So?" Jerald asked, taking off his cowboy hat. "So--why the hell did you fire your gun back there? I can't fucking believe you did that! Are you totally out of your tiny mind?" Daptin said. "Look Gone, they were about to apprehend us--I had to give them some pause," Jerald said as he turned his hat upside down and reached his hand into it. "There was no reason to do it. You knew it was a bridge, and you knew they wouldn't follow," Daptin said. "We weren't into the bridge at that point," Jerald said, his arm elbow-deep into the hat, defying normal physics. "Behind the rack was the start of the bridge," Daptin said, eyeing the hat. "And you better not try anything with that magic hat of yours." "I'm just getting some licorice," Jerald said, pulling his arm out of the hat with a little package of licorice sticks. "Snack hat." "Gimme a break," Daptin said. "Just remember--if you pull any more shit--you're dead." Fake stopped in her tracks and spun around. The cinder block came to a clumsy halt and then floated to Fake's side. "Okay--time out," Fake said. "Let's get something straight--I'm the leader here, for better or for worse. And I say you two stop fighting right now. We have a mission, and we're on a tight schedule. Jerald, you were wrong to fire back there, but we're all entitled to one mistake, right?" "I didn't hurt anyone," Jerald said, biting into a piece of licorice. "That's beside the point," Fake said. "Just promise me that you'll see this mission through to the end, Jerald." Jerald paused, chewing his licorice. "Okay," he finally said. "But tell Daptin to stop bossing me around." "Look," Daptin said. "We'll be in Boltpike soon, and we won't be walking on eggshells like we were back on Earth. There's a difference, Jerald. A big difference." "I know," Jerald said. "Want some licorice?" "Not from your gross hat," Daptin said. "No thanks," Fake said. "Now come on." "Everything's cool," Daptin said. "Check those swizzle sticks," Fake said under her breath to Daptin, "I think you might have broken one by accident." Daptin glanced at Jerald and snickered softly, but Jerald didn't seem to notice. They continued down the hallway, which soon came to an abrupt halt. A ladder attached to the wall led upward. "I'll go," Daptin said. "Are we there yet?" Tavmatey asked, her voice louder than the last time she spoke. "Not quite," Fake said. "But this might be it." Daptin climbed up the ladder and found the underside of a metal manhole, very heavy. "I got it--a manhole," Daptin said, pushing on it. "Open it," Fake said. "Uhn. Jammed pretty good," Daptin said. "Push harder," Jerald said. "Super!" Daptin yelled. "Hoop!" With this, Daptin pushed the manhole open with a cacophony of crashes. The ladder got bent in the process, but it was still usable. "What the hell..." Fake said. Daptin climbed out of the hole to find himself in what appeared to be an abandoned store, with the wreckage of a huge couch nearby, which had apparently been covering the manhole. Out a large window, he saw a bleak streetlight-lit street. "Come on up, folks. The weather's fine," Daptin said. The other two climbed up the ladder, followed by Fake's cinder block. "My goodness," Fake said, looking at the ruined couch. "How did you do that? That couch looks like it weighed a ton." "It probably did," Daptin said. "Do you have some power I don't know about?" Fake asked. "I didn't know you were that strong." "I'm not," Daptin said. "But--" Fake began. "--just forget it for now, alright? It's too involved to explain." "Okay," Fake said, looking out the window. "This is Boltpike, alright. Hear that Tavmatey? We're here." "Goody," Tavmatey said. "It's always dark here, right?" Daptin asked. "More or less," Fake said. "Sort of reminds me of home," Daptin said. "Daptin," Tavmatey said from within the Cup, "I think we should talk." "Here," Fake said, handing Daptin the Cup. "Well?" Daptin asked. "Well. How about telling the truth?" Tavmatey said. "The truth is, I never met anyone named Tavmatey, and I never went to Shirt University. Ask Fake." "What?" Fake asked. "Tell Tavmatey where I went to college all four years," Daptin said. "Um, you went to Thatterine as far as I know. I mean, I knew you there. I'm pretty sure you never went to Shirt," Fake said. "I'm not crazy," Tavmatey said. "I know you. I've--y'know--been with you, in that way. I know you." "This isn't true," Daptin said, shaking his head. "I'll prove it. Shall I do that? How about your birthmark? You have a birthmark on your scrotum--in the shape of a pine tree. How would I know this?" Tavmatey said. "Come on! That's getting personal," Daptin said. "You really have a birthmark like that?" Fake asked. "If you have to know, yes. Nothing I can help. I mean, I was born with it. It's not a tattoo or anything." "So how does Tavmatey know?" Fake asked. "Who cares?" Jerald said from across the room. "Well?" Fake asked. "I don't know. Maybe someone who knew me told her." "Who would tell me that?" Tavmatey said. "And I can tell you more things. Your personal number, your parents' address in Arctica, both your grandmothers' maiden names, your favorite foods, your deepest secrets." "Okay. Okay, enough. Let's be reasonable here. You're probably from an Earth alternate to ours. Although I've never encountered two Earths with duplicate people living on them, I suppose it's possible. Whatever, I'm not the Daptin you knew." "Fair enough," Tavmatey said. "Earths?" Fake asked. Daptin shook his head and swatted his hand at Fake and said "Forget it. Later. Later." Fake raised her eyebrows. "And uh, Tavmatey," Daptin said, "while we're on the subject of secrets, just how did you go from being a Shirt coed to getting trapped inside a 40,000-year-old cup of coffee?" "It's a long story." "What year do you think it is?" Daptin asked. "1692, as far as I know." "It's 1687 to us," Daptin said, staring at the Cup. "I was a Junior about three years ago, in 1684. Are you saying you met me eight years ago, in your experience?" "Um--yeah, that's about right," Tavmatey said. "It is 1687," Fake said. "There's no denying that." "Is she from the future?" Jerald asked. "I guess she is," Daptin responded. "An alternate future, if anything." "Anyway," Tavmatey said, "I'm sorry. I guess you're not my Daptin. But you're similar enough to have the same pine tree birthmark." "It doesn't look all that much like a pine tree." "Oh yes it does. I've seen it close up. Closer than you could ever have seen it." "Okay, fine. Very cute. That's great." "It's true." "Great." "So are you gonna get me outta here soon? I think I like you a lot better now, knowing that you're not the same Daptin I knew." "Why? What did he do wrong?" "Plenty. But you're not him." "Well, you can tell me all about it when we finally meet." Jerald walked over to Daptin and talked into the Cup. "Watch out Miss Tavmatey--Daptin's girlfriend is a goddess named Spanking New Sarah. She's a very--" "--cut the shit," Daptin said. "Come on, let's get on with it." Daptin tried to open the door, but found it locked. "Damn!" Daptin said. "May I?" Jerald said, pointing his gun toward the large window. "Go ahead," Daptin said with a sigh. "Ha ha!" Jerald said as he shot the window with a burst of bullets, shattering it immediately. "Okay Jerald--that's enough. Stop!" Daptin yelled. Jerald stopped firing, but then saw that some glass in a corner of the windowframe was still intact, so he shot at it. "Stop it! That's not a toy," Daptin said. "You sound like my uncle," Jerald said, stepping through the windowframe. Daptin and Fake followed, finding themselves on a deserted street, with a lot of lights visible in the distance over to the right. "Tell me about this Spanking New Sarah," Tavmatey said. "For godsake, not now," Daptin said. "Which way?" Fake asked. "Well," Daptin said. "We have to see which direction Tav here is louder in. Tell you what--let's test it at one end of this block, and then the other. Maybe we'll be able to hear a difference." "Um--actually, Elaine told me that I was somewhere in the downtown area of Boltpike. So why don't you head that way? Maybe you see the lights?" Tavmatey said. "Um--okay," Daptin said. "We can see downtown from here, but it's a few miles off. How did you know?" "Elaine briefed me on your route. She knew where this bridge came out." "I wish she'd have told us that," Fake said. "Just keep moving," Tavmatey said. "Remember, I don't know how much longer I've got." "Whatever that means," Daptin said. "What?" Tavmatey asked. "Nothing," Daptin responded. "So let's go!" Fake said. The three began walking toward downtown Boltpike. About a minute later, however, everything went wrong. It felt like the street dropped out from under them, and what seemed to be a bright sun was darting about relentlessly in the sky above them. A sound like a thousand touch tone dialings came to their ears. They all lost their balance and fell to the sidewalk under them. "What's happening?" Jerald yelled. "I don't know!" Fake yelled back. "Super! Super!" Daptin yelled, attempting unsuccessfully to stand up. "What went wrong?" Fake asked. "I don't think this--" Daptin began, but then everything turned red. All they could see was red. They smelled a citrusy odor and heard distant windchimes. "Don't stop," Tavmatey said, much louder now. "Don't stop now." Before any of them could respond, they lost consciousness. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 1: GOODBYE POPCORN CHAPTER 5 SR-005 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 12 sr12 01.3.3--Cup's Club -------------------------- ============================== Daptin awoke to find himself on a hill covered with freshly cut grass. He heard the sound of a distant lawnmower, but couldn't see where it came from. A light breeze blew, and a very normal sun shone down from a cloudless sky. Nearby, he could see a wooded area. The other two began to stir. "Well, we managed to fuck our mission up royally," Daptin said, not fully awake yet. "Was I dreaming?" Fake asked, rising. "I'm scared," Jerald said. "Oh, you're back," Tavmatey said from the Cup, sounding almost as if she were right next to them. "Tav--Tavmatey--how long were we out?" Daptin asked. "Not long. Maybe five minutes." "What happened?" Fake asked. "Beats me," Daptin said. "Any ideas, Tav?" Tavmatey didn't respond. "I guess not," Daptin said. "No I guess..." Tavmatey said, "I guess I might as well tell you that Elaine had to mislead you a little. The actual plan was different than what she told you. Sorry I didn't--" "--yes!" a booming voice was heard to say nearby. "What the..." Daptin said, looking around. "Uh-oh," Fake said, looking down the hill. "After eighty years it has come to pass," one of the individuals coming up the hill said. "You led us into a trap!" Daptin yelled. "No!" Tavmatey said. "No! There shouldn't be anyone else there! It's impossible!" Daptin looked down at the group approaching him and his fellows. He didn't recognize any of the approachers. "Stop!" said the man leading the group. He held a huge saw in his right hand, and a smaller saw in his left hand. "Look!" said a tall, thin, cloaked figure with no discernible face. "Can it be? Truly?" "The Cup! The Cup of Coffee!" said a young woman in a red-and-black checkered outfit. "Let's do 'em before they get smart and run," said a woman in a black T-shirt. A weird furry monster stared at the Cup and whooped with pleasure. "Can it be over?" asked a large, stocky, oddly-built fellow with a colorful uniform. A girl in a blue and brown outfit flew above the others, holding a massive, bizarre rifle. "Hello," the guy with the saws said. "We are... here seeking that Cup of Coffee. May we, uh, may we just have it?" Jerald raised his submachinegun. "Back off," Jerald said loudly. "Cool it," Daptin said, with his hand raised. Then he turned toward Fake and said "Blow up a balloon." Fake nodded, took out a green balloon, and started stretching it. Her cinder block, which had been motionless, jumped up and floated in front of her in a protective stance. "What say thee?" the sawman asked. "There's no need to fight. We can settle this," Daptin said. "Who are you guys, anyway?" "I would ask the same of you," the sawman said. "I asked first," Daptin said. "Fine," the sawman said. "Some call us Cup's Club, but that is unimportant. What matters is that we've been looking for that Cup of Coffee you have there for almost eighty years. Can you grasp such an effort? We want this to be over." "Okay," Daptin said. "Here's the deal. I can see you're a fighting force, but so are we. Let me clue you in--we're mortals from Agoopish. I don't think you want to risk fighting us." "Never heard of Agoopish," the sawman said. "But the force is yet to be found that Coabler the Sawman cannot soundly defeat. What say thee then?" "Okay, okay," Daptin said. "Tavmatey, what do you know about all this?" "Nothing!" she responded. Fake turned around and began blowing up the slay balloon. "Let's talk this over," Daptin said. "If we find you to be a clearly superior force, as you claim to be, then we'll hand the Cup over without a fight." "We are superior," Coabler the Sawman said. "And we will take the Cup. We have nothing to prove to you." "If you're so sure, why don't you attack us right now?" Jerald blurted out. Coabler shrugged. "I want to try a civilized solution before bashing your foolish heads in." "That is... certainly admirable," Daptin said, looking over at Fake. Fake finished inflating the slay balloon. She then pulled a pin from her sleeve and held it inches away from the balloon. "What's that, then?" the flying girl asked, pointing her gun at Fake. The sight of the flying girl reminded him of The Tracy Taciturn, but he clenched his fists and supressed the thought. "Hit it," Daptin said. She popped it and it worked. All the three could see was a gray haze all about them, and all they could hear was a clamorous and shrieking thunder. "I guess we killed them!" Daptin Gone yelled, his voice nearly drowned by the din. "We had to," said Jerald Hapal Hatch. "I didn't know it would be this... serious," Fake Cerquaine said. "What?" Daptin asked. "The balloon," Fake said. "Oh." The three could now see the dark gray destruction swirling about all around, and it was like they were in a glass sphere--the slay balloon's safe area. The clamor continued with no sign of diminishing. "Okay wait," Tavmatey Numblem said from within the Cup of Coffee. "Okay what's the matter." "Huh?" Daptin said. "Did you say something, Tavmatey?" "I said, what's the matter!" "We had to use a slay balloon," Daptin said. "A gang of fighters came upon us, with saws and guns and stuff." "That's not possible. You're not still in Boltpike, are you?" "I don't know. Why shouldn't we be?" Daptin asked. "Elaine deceived you. El Flactor Floor was in on it. The Cup of Coffee--they know more about it than they told you. The situation-to-reality aspect ratio is so tight in Avert that you can't really transport the Cup more than a few hundred feet." "What the hell are you talking about?" Daptin asked. "I'm telling you everything I know--you might be dead soon and all. But no--like I said, the reason for the journey, the mission, was to get you here. They didn't want the cupslip in their own city, so they had you do it in Boltpike. The thing with the loudness of my voice--all untrue." "So hold on--are you really in the Cup or what?" "Yes! I mean, I'm here in this place. It's like I have a normal life, but it's not my own. I live here and stuff. And I have my friends, but it's just a fancy jail cell, as far as I'm concerned." "But Tavmatey--what the hell is your involvement in the Cup?" Daptin asked. "I--there's a nearby world--I guess--where me and you were like--I dunno." "Tavmatey--we can talk about all this later. Just tell me where we are right now. Okay? Where are we?" "I'm unsure. My major cupslip was from Earth, with a much looser ratio. Coming from an Avert City like Boltpike, I don't know. It changes both reality and situation, though. That's how I got into this current life. Situation just wrapped around me in this way, and here I am." "But what sort of place is this?" Daptin asked. "I don't know--why don't you look around and see?" Tavmatey responded. "I can't! The balloon's destruction is still exploding, if you can't hear it. It was a wilderness area, but with tended grass. I heard a lawnmower, so there must be people nearby--who I guess we just killed, along with that gang. Sorry folks..." "Now Daptin, this gang--I heard them say something about the Cup?" Tavmatey said. "They said they were looking for the Cup and had finally found it." All of a sudden the clamor died down, and there was a sound not dissimilar to that of a toilet flushing. The gray cloud began to lighten. "I guess that's the extent of it," Fake said, looking down at the unimpressive popped balloon on the ground. "Heads up!" Jerald said, pointing his submachinegun toward a dark shape looming in the gray cloud. "What the--" Daptin began. The shape disappeared, but a moment later, a person appeared a few feet away from Daptin, Fake, and Jerald. It was the girl with the big weird rifle. She wore a blue and brown military uniform, and sported wavy light brown lovely hair. She appeared barely into her twenties. "Now I can hurt you, but you can't hurt me. I'm willing to listen to what you might have to say, so save your ammo. This me, Pattern Integrity," the girl said. Jerald raised his gun and backed away. "I'm not fooling around!" Pattern said, pointing her rifle at Jerald. Jerald continued to back up, passing outside the perimeter of the safe area. A few seconds later, he stumbled back in, coughing, and dropped to his knees. "Pretty nasty out there, huh?" Pattern asked. "Look, who the hell are you?" Fake asked. Pattern swung her rifle around and pointed it at Fake. Fake held up her hands and smiled a nervous smile. Her cinder block hovered warily above her shoulder. "If it means anything, we can't be killed either," Fake said. "Maybe not, but I could probably injure you," Pattern said, then she turned her attention to the Cup of Coffee. Daptin faced her. "You like it?" Daptin said, holding up the Cup and willing his frost flame to burn with great intensity. "Yes I like it," Pattern said. "I haven't seen it for a long time." Jerald, still choking, raised his gun and fired a short burst at Pattern Integrity. It hit her in the chest, and she vanished for a moment, then reappeared, unharmed. She then pointed her rifle at Jerald and shot a small yellow energy burst at him. Jerald collapsed immediately. "Now talk about what you did and who you are," Pattern Integrity said. "Um--well," Daptin said, "we're mortal agents from Agoopish on a special mission. Apparently, we were deceived by our superiors, and we wound up in this place, wherever it is. Our mission was--is--to rescue a woman named Tavmatey Numblem, who we can hear from within the Cup." "We were charged to use the Cup and then safely return it," Fake said. "Your little gang seemed intent upon using force against us, so we decided to use force against you instead. But I guess you lived, unfortunately." "Well," Pattern said, "I have personal reasons for wanting to rediscover the Cup. I understand your position, but I will have it. Hand it over now, boy." Pattern Integrity lowered her gun and approached Daptin, her hand outstretched for the Cup. "Super!" Daptin yelled, as he brought his right hand up over his left shoulder, then savagely hit Pattern on the side of her head with the back of his hand. Such was the ferocity of the blow that Pattern's head was half ripped from her neck. For a moment, she was a bloody mess, but she quickly vanished and reappeared in the air above Daptin, with her rifle's barrel pointed at Daptin's forehead, lightly touching it. "That was an interesting sensation," the floating girl said. "I see you're quite a strong little brat. Now put down the Cup or I'll blow your a head off a lot cleaner than you did mine." Just then another form approached the safe area. Daptin turned his eyes to the right, without moving his imperiled head, to see a bleary-eyed and raggedly dressed Coabler the Sawman enter the safe area. "Ho, Integrity," he said. "Always you to be spared the indignities of disaster. Easy now girl, these fellows are holders of the Cup, do not threaten them." Pattern backed off and floated to the ground. "Look, we don't want any trouble," Fake said, looking down at Jerald. "Is he dead?" "I guess so," Pattern said matter-of-factly. Daptin carefully pulled his submachinegun's strap over his head and dropped the gun to the ground. He then sat down Indian style, holding the Cup of Coffee on his left knee. "I need a moment to commune with the Cup before you wrest it from me," Daptin said, reaching into one of the pockets of his vest. "Just take it from him!" Coabler said to Pattern. "I tried--he knocked my head off." Daptin grabbed a big handful of goodbye popcorn out of his pocket and tossed it into his mouth. "Don't commit suicide, you jerk," Pattern said. Daptin crunched the popcorn for a few moments, and then disappeared along with the Cup of Coffee. "Where'd he go, girl!" Pattern yelled at Fake. "I don't--he--he's gone," Fake said. Coabler ambled over to Fake and grabbed her by her upper arms, shaking her. "Now we're all a little dazed from that bomb you set off, but you tell me now where the boy went with the Cup or I'll cut you up into a googol little pieces!" "He ate some--" Pattern raised her gun. "Truth blast," Pattern said. Coabler nodded and let go of Fake, who Pattern then shot with a thin blue beam. Fake stumbled around in confusion, finally lying down on her side in the grass, drooling. Coabler knelt down beside her. "Now that's better, hey, lass. Now little girl, where is your green-haired compatriot, hey? Tell me now." "He ate some goodbye popcorn so he doesn't exist right now," Fake gurgled. "Clarify, check," Coabler said. "It's popcorn which makes you disappear for awhile." "How long?" "Depends on how much you eat. I didn't see how much he had." "It appeared to be a handful." "A few hours--definitely less than a day." "Where will he reappear?" Coabler asked. "In this vicinity." "Will the Cup also reappear with him?" "Yes, as far as I know." "What's your name girl?" "Fake Cerquaine." "Okay. Now rest girl. You'll be okay, lass." Coabler got up and faced Pattern. Jerald moaned and rolled over. "System drain bolt," Pattern said, gesturing toward Jerald. "That's fine. Now see about the others--I'm most worried about Bith and Tickle. Be off!" Pattern Integrity flew off into the now-dissipating cloud. "Ye'll both be down for a time," Coabler said. "Curse that Pattern for not grabbing the Cup. But still, this is all wrong. I can't believe it's the real Cup of Coffee that your friend had." Fake's cinder block was floating around its master, nudging her innocently. "What have we here? A charmed brick?" Coabler said. "Yes," Fake said, still under the effects of the truth blast. "A trained cinder block." "A funny toy," Coabler said. "That it is," said the gaunt Kesh the Vector as he approached. "Ah Kesh, I knew you'd be no worse for wear," Coabler the Sawman said. "What was the cause of the explosion?" Kesh the Vector asked. "Fake?" Coabler said. "I popped a slay balloon," Fake said. "There you go, friend Kesh--we were victims of a balloon." "Most strange," Kesh said. "I guess you have the situation in hand?" "Two stunned youths is all," Coabler said, clinking his saws together. "And the Cup? Was it a false?" "Unknown. Though the nature of this world points to a cupslip entry, I need physical contact to know for sure." "So where is it?" Kesh asked. "Does Pattern have it? I assume she was here." "She was here, but she doesn't have it. The green-top youth who bore it used a novel technique to temporarily set his existence to false. He will be back, though." "Any sign of the others?" Kesh asked. "Not yet," Coabler said. "Classic and Demolish should be fine, but as the blast tumbled me several miles from here, I assume they're likewise trying to get back now. Bith may or may not have survived--it depends on his current degree of silliness. As far as Tickle goes, your guess is as good as mine." "When the fallout settles, we shall see," Kesh said, striding toward Fake's supine form, then kneeling. Pattern Integrity appeared. "Coabler, I located Bith. He's a good ways away, covered with soot, and babbling incoherently," Pattern said. "Good," Coabler said. "That leaves Tickle the only one to be worried about." "Are you sure Classic could've wielded her logic in time to save herself?" asked Pattern. "She had a standing theorem that if she's hurt or killed, she won't be hurt or killed. At least, that was my impression," said Coabler. "Tell me everything you know of the Cup of Coffee, little one," Kesh said to Fake. Fake stared into the nothingness of Kesh's face with an unconcerned expression. "We were hired by Elaine Caxopy to rescue Tavmatey. We could hear her inside the Cup. They said her voice was louder in some places and softer in others. They said they plotted it out, and that they thought she was in a space analogous to Boltpike, and if we found the spot, we could rescue her. But apparently they lied. We were only in Boltpike for a few minutes before we wound up here. They told us the Cup was 40,000 years old, that we should guard it with our life." "She's under a truth blast, Kesh, so you can believe her words," Pattern said. "Aye," said Coabler. "Now try and locate Tickle, good Pattern Integrity." "No sooner said than done," Pattern said with a vanish. "I don't care about the Cup. I wanna go home," Fake said without emotion. "How about the fat one?" Kesh said, gesturing toward the unconscious Jerald Hapal Hatch. "Pattern shot him with a system drain bolt. It'll take him awhile to recover," said Coabler. "Bad choice, hers. I would have liked to question him, also," Kesh said, standing. "We'll get our answers," Coabler said, holstering his saws. The cloud of fallout was thinning to the point that the aftermath of the destructive wave began to come into view. Wisps of dust drifted over the four individuals as the safe area ended. A dank gray wasteland stretched as far as the eye could see. Coabler surveyed the scene, and saw Classic of Logic in the distance. He hailed her and she waved back. "Tis Classic yonder," Coabler said. "Fetch her." Kesh didn't respond, but raised a bony gloved finger and extended a vector, a thin black line, to touch Classic. Then without moving, Kesh took hold of Classic and drew her to him. She moved, hovering a few feet off the ground with the vector extending through her abdomen. In a few moments, she was beside Coabler, and Kesh withdrew his vector. "I could just as easily have walked!" Classic said, holding her stomach. "You know that makes me queasy." "Complain not. You're here now, no?" said Coabler. "Ugh!" said Classic with a shiver. "I hate those vectors!" "Your decree is noted, Classic," Kesh said. "Any sign of Demolish or Tickle?" Coabler asked. "Nope," Classic of Logic said. "Well I'm off to find Tickle," said Coabler. "Keep an eye on these two, and if the boy reappears, you know what to do, Kesh." Kesh nodded, and Coabler jogged off into the desolate once-countryside. "So are we finally through with this idiotic quest?" Classic asked Kesh. "Who knows," Kesh said distantly. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 1: GOODBYE POPCORN CHAPTER 6 SR-006 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 14 sr14 01.4--Obfuser -------------------------- ============================== "Daptin, of course this is unprecedented," said a voice which sounded like trees creaking in a thunderstorm. "I was..." Daptin said, shaking his head to clear it. "I was okay?" Looking around, Daptin saw he was standing at the edge of a parking lot overgrown with weeds. It was a chilly, overcast day. Nearby, Daptin saw the weird dark humanoid void which was the Ultra Occult Entity, Obfuser. "Do you know where you are?" Obfuser asked, approaching. Daptin had never seen Obfuser in this form, but he recognized the voice somehow. In his previous encounters, Obfuser took the form of normal-looking person. But now, he seemed to be a great walking vacuum with jack-o-lantern facial features. "Um, I think I was on some world that... I don't know." "Do you know what it is that you carry?" Obfuser said, looking at the Cup of Coffee. "This? The Cup of Coffee?" Daptin said, holding up the Cup. "Yeah. It's some sort of artifact." "Yeah," Obfuser said with what seemed a shudder. "I was surprised to find you here, but even more surprised to find the Cup of Coffee." "Isn't this the same world I was on?" "Daptin, you've been playing with forces far beyond your scope. Your goodbye popcorn works fine in mundane spaces, but disappearing from the cupslipped world you were in, there was no way to return. Anywhere." "I didn't return?" "No. You were simply erased from all existence. And you would have remained so, else for the Cup you hold." "Huh. At least this damn Cup has done something good. I wonder if I can still hear Tavmatey?" Daptin said. "I wouldn't think so, friend," Obfuser responded. "See, the universe is ended. It's been done with for a long time." "So how long was I gone?" "Hard to say. From the time you left to the end was a few billion years. Afterward time hasn't meant so much. But quite a while." "So that's it? I'm screwed?" "Not really. You have me, don't you? I can put you back over there where you came from. Just realize that you have been but an enormously high-level reference for a great amount of time. That I found you is a miracle." "If the world's ended, the universe, whatever, then where are we?" "This is a high portion of existence, discreet from the universe. You were essentially dumped here as reality purged it's high sectors. That is, the universe over, a lot of unfinished business could be taken care of, you being a very small piece of business." "Now, uh, Obfuser. Have you like waited like, billion of years since I last saw you?" "Sort of, Daptin. But it's not as bad as it seems. You finally get to see me in a more appropriate form. Had I manifested thus in Spoin Hall, I would have demolished not just your planet, but most of your galaxy as well. Now, in this area, I'm free to be who I am. You can even touch me. Here, try it," Obfuser said, holding out his shadowy black hand. Daptin reached out carefully and touched Obfuser's hand. "I don't understand," Daptin said. "I was wondering how it would feel for a human to touch me in my true form. You seem lost for words." "It's just too much. Like, too much for my senses to even begin to decode." "That makes sense. And to me, too, the sensation of touching a human hand in direct manifestation is intriguing. You know, no human could possibly be brought to a place like this. I certainly couldn't do it. So you being here is a marvelous find." "Almost sounds like you wanna keep me here. I mean, not send me back, if there's no way to get anyone back here." "Oh, worry not Daptin! I can reference this area as many times as I want, refinding you each time. Chronologically speaking, this is the first time. Or at least, the second or third. I don't know how to describe it in your language. It's very hard for me to speak in your language, but a challenge, since there are so many things to say and so few words to use. But anyway." "So like, where can I return to?" "Oh, anywhere Daptin. From the reference, you were in a bad situation when you left, so perhaps you don't want to return there?" "Well, I'm not even sure where there was. I mean, like, okay--can you just tell me all about this damn Cup? I mean, there's like such mystery about it. Maybe you could lift the curtain?" Obfuser turned away and looked skyward. "Daptin, even I, an Ultra Occult Entity, have my limits. The Cup is too deeply referenced. I can only tell you a few things. Like you've discovered, displacing the Cup's spatial state will cause it to move in a direction I can only call 'cupward'. There is no apparent destination, only a direction." "You mean even you don't understand it?" "I understand some of what it does, but like I said, it's too deep to get at. That's why you survived--the depth of the reference required depositing you and the Cup in a temporary area. " "And what about Tavmatey? Or the origin of the Cup?" Daptin said, rotating the cup in his hand, and staring at it intently. "Well Daptin," Obfuser said, "Tavmatey Numblem was in a line with a version of you, but the thing is, with the Cup, whomever held it like you held it would have been the person she knew. If Jerald had bore the thing, it would have been him, see? A simple construct. Anyway, she is, in your contact with her, stuck in the near future as a high school student in the suburbs of what you know as Honorcora. The cup utterly reshaped situation around her. A funny effect." "How could we rescue her?" Daptin asked. "Hard to say. I would have just used the vocal link to make a full-info fill, bringing her back, but I guess you wouldn't know how to do that." "No," Daptin said, still a little dazed from disappearing back. "I mean, it would be inappropriate for me to intervene in such overt ways, don't you see it that way, Daptin?" Obfuser said, turning around and wearing an extremely frightful expression. "I can see your position." "Good," Obfuser said, clasping his hands together. "Then shall I try my method of replacing you afall?" "You mean just send me back to where I was?" "Now well--you had goodbyed with the popcorn, eh? And you weren't in a place you could return to. So I figure I should return you to an area in which you could have returned had you eaten the popcorn there. A hypothet construct, very easy to clay. You game?" "Where?" "My suggestion would be your apartment at Greatwall, but you might have a better idea." "Back at Overwhelm, huh? I guess that might be okay, but what about my friends? At least, what about Fake? I was about to kill that Jerald myself, before that girl killed him." "I would suggest drinking some of the Coffee you hold. See, though I know just a little about the Cup, it would allow you to travel cupward and then return to where you left from, since the pattern integrity of the Cup and its contents will manifest separately for a while." "But--I mean, actually drinking some of this stuff? Wouldn't that be--I dunno--sort of a waste of such powerful stuff?" "Not at all! It's pattern integritied--no physical harm can come of it, since its pattern is apart from the universe, just like the member of Cup's Club called Pattern Integrity." "Um--should I drink it now?" "No--go back, prepare yourself, and then drink some. The situation-to-reality aspect ratio is too low at Greatwall, but if you go through an Aconck bridge, that should do it, since they are temporary and a lot tighter than the Avert perms." "It makes some sense to me, Great Obfuser," Daptin said with a sigh. "Good! Then let us do it." The next moment, Daptin found himself in darkness. Lights flicked on, and Daptin saw that he was back in his Greatwall apartment. Near the door, he saw Obfuser with his hand on the light switch, manifest in the same lanky college freshman form he had assumed in his prior visitations. "And here we are," Obfuser said, his voice alarmingly mundane in this form. "It worked. Perfectly." "I guess I owe you my life." "You would if I could be owed anything, but I can't." Obfuser closed his eyes briefly, and then opened them again. "Can I do anything else before I go away?" "Um--so all I have to do is drink some of the Coffee--how much?" "A few mouthfuls. The amount really isn't important. Enough so there's definitely some in your stomach, inside of you." "Okay--and then go through a bridge?" "Yeah--but remember you just have something between eight hours and a day to find them. Just stay with them once you find them." "What about those goons?" "Oh yeah--I hadn't considered that. Uh, bring some of your Overwhelm friends. You will have to dispatch the enemies, won't you? Well, you can do it." "Okay." "Okay then? I'll be off." "Just one more thing," Daptin said. "Yes?" "You said the universe was over with. But that it was, like doing something like purging sectors or something. Maybe you're like using the word 'universe' in one way, but... to me, if you were still in existence, the overall universe, the totality of existence, I'd think it was still intact." Obfuser narrowed his eyes. "I don't quite know how to put it into words, but you are both right and wrong. My kind of existing is vasly deeper than yours, but at the same time we are both bound by the same ultimate borders. Sorry I can't be more specific. But I hope this answer is helpful to you." "Well, I don't quite understand it, but I think we're gonna hafta leave it at that for the time being. Thank you, Obfuser." "You're quite welcome, Daptin. This has been most entertaining, in my way." The next instant, Obfuser was gone. "This is so fucked," Daptin muttered to himself as he shook his head, looking around the apartment he hadn't seen in months. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 1: GOODBYE POPCORN CHAPTER 7 SR-007 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 15 sr15 01.5--Kesh -------------------------- ============================== "Have you found Tickle, then?" Coabler asked Pattern Integrity. "Yes, but he's in an awful state." "How so?" Coabler asked. "Classic has him," Pattern said, pointing toward Classic of Logic in the distance. "Fetch 'er, Kesh," Coabler said. Kesh the Vector raised his finger, but in the distance Classic of Logic waved her hand briefly. Kesh projected his vector, but it went far right of the girl. "Logic is, my vector cannot pass through Classic," Kesh said. "Respect her power. Let her come hither as she pleases, then," Coabler said. "Is there anything that girl can't do?" said Pattern Integrity. "I'd rather not contemplate it," Coabler said. Soon Classic of Logic approached the group. She raised her hand and opened it, revealing a little plastic figurine of Tickle the Monster. "Look what's happened to him," Classic said. "Miniaturized?" Coabler asked. "No--he's a plastic toy. See--you can see where his eyes and stuff are painted on," Classic said, showing Coabler. "This is most disturbing," said Coabler. "As long as we have him, we can cure him eventually," Kesh said. "Can't you just logic the poor fellow?" Pattern asked. "I could try, but I don't know what declaration to make. And since his condition could be a lot of things, the wrong shiftinlogic could do great damage to him." "Stick him in your pocket for now," Coabler said. "He'll be dealt with when the time comes. For now, let us await the return of this fellow Daptin. Then we'll see if it's the true Cup he has." Kesh the Vector knelt down and touched the ground with his gloved hand, surveying the scene and noting the unmoving forms of Jerald Hapal Hatch and Fake Cerquaine. "If this Daptin doesn't return, I wonder what will become of us," Kesh said. "We can't move toward the Cup if it doesn't exist." Demolish All, who had been sleeping, stirred and raised herself up a little, her long black hair all mussed up. "Did I miss anything good?" she asked groggily. "No, not really, Demolish," Coabler said. "Everyone's here except Bith, who's apparently on his way back now. I trust you're all rested from the ordeal." "Ordeal?" Demolish said. "Oh no--it was fantastic. Such pure destruction and violation of order--blasted intense! My experience was an order of magnitude or two more than an intense and continuous orgasm. What a thrill!" "Then you definitely ought to get yourself a few of those balloons," Kesh said dryly. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 1: GOODBYE POPCORN CHAPTER 8 SR-008 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 17 sr17 01.6.1--Provocation Team -------------------------- ============================== Legend has it that the hero Toal Tarby set forth on a perilous journey up the stream Adanden after dreaming of a fantastical cave at the head of the stream, and the treasures beyond reckoning it contained. That the things he described eventually became known as a payphone and a stuffed animal is a matter of great controversy. That the cave is inaccessible now is clear. But Toal Tarby's last words were that he would return with the prize, no matter how long it might take, and it might take centuries. Well over a thousand years later, the people of this fine Earth have taken the legend of Toal Tarby as a bedrock of their society. Over the centuries, the route Tarby took gradually became more and more developed, from the village Porbe all the way to the mountainous site of the no longer accessible cave, now known as Goal. In fact, in this time, the little stream Adanden is dwarfed by the massive wall now following its every curve, for hundreds of miles. Dubbed Greatwall by some long-forgotten commentator, this structure now stands as a marvel of engineering and faith, and all the shopowners and workers and administrators and fools and pets await the day Toal Tarby returns to walk through this immense tribute to his journey. Of course, most people don't believe in Toal Tarby anymore. Greatwall itself is now a legend, and it's said people have been born, lived, and died without ever leaving its walls. And it is here, at Greatwall, on Mate Pavement Earth, where Overwhelm Associates has its base of operations, and where Daptin Gone has now returned to after months of being AWOL. "Hey, who's this sneakin' around here?" said Granticaine Chug Perion, spotting Daptin Gone lurking near the entrance to the Overwhelm Associates administrative offices. Daptin turned to face Granticaine. At least six-foot-six, Granticaine sported long brown hair which fell halfway down his back, and wore a blue and brown variation on the uniform he had worn in war. The guy was smiling, but all Daptin could think of was the videotape Granticaine had shown him once. It showed him slaughtering enemy troops with an enormous chainsaw, and then, after his chainsaw had run out of gas, how he faced President Emmerdine and took 30 rounds in the chest from the President's semiautomatic pistol. After that, he grabbed the President, and with horrific grace spun him around and ripped the leader's left arm off, then wielded the arm like a baseball bat and bashed the President in the head. The fury went on for several minutes, and all that was left after that was a room full of blood and body parts. Breathing heavily, Granticaine slowly turned around and faced the camera. "Next," was his only utterance. The camera hit the ground as the camera crew turned and ran. This was shown live across the world, and though condemned by some, Granticaine's rage against this dictator was the rage of the world, and his actions were a hearty catharsis to the long war. At that moment, his prior nickname, "Good Ole 494" was superseded by "Splatterlord". "Huh?" Daptin said. "Speak of the Devil!" Grant said. "We were just talking about you the other day. We wondered whatever became of our favorite Quality Scout, Daptin Gone." "I uh, I've been around, y'know," Daptin said. "I gather you have," Grant replied. "So how're things around here, Grant?" Granticaine clasped his hands together in front of himself and looked around. "Oh, good. Good. Fife's still not a very skilled strategist, but that's forgivable. You missed another recruitment round, a few weeks back. And there were a few babes you really missed, eh? Nice ones. Maybe you'll encounter 'em in your next round." Daptin leaned against a wall and sighed. "I uh, I don't, I'm not sure if there'll be any more rounds. At least not for the time being. I mean, I'm not really here for, y'know, like to come back into full service or anything, I mean--I have some stuff to sort out back..." Granticaine took a few steps toward Daptin. "You quittin'?" "Huh? No. I'm just in the middle of like a vacation, but I'm back here just for a little while. I mean..." "So you're still on our side, then." "Yes, Definitely. My current, uh, concerns have nothing at all to do with Aconck." "Oh no? What have they to do with?" "Nothing." Granticaine turned away from Daptin. "I don't want to intrude in your affairs, Daptin, but you've always seemed a decent fellow. If you need some assistance, you need but ask." "I, uh, appreciate that, Grant." Granticaine turned back to face Daptin, and unclasped his hands. "In truth, it's gotten very tedious and boring here at Greatwall. Fife's got his head up his ass and he's stalling, while Thewsike gobbles up Earths all on the outer. I want some action, man." "Heh. I know what you mean. That's part of the reason I took my leave of absence, I mean, I--I mean, there are things in this universe to do besides worry about Aconck, you know? I mean like, y'know, like friends and family and things. Good friends." "Friends, yes, surely. But family, Daptin? In family, I can't say I've had much experience. Personal experience that is. My fellow freedom fighters, my fellow Drampticans, all fine folks, but not real, true family. One thinks of such matters cooped up here on this alien world." "Yeah," Daptin said, distracted in thought. "I guess I've been lucky to have such a sort of stable family." "Indeed ye have, man." Daptin looked down. "I like, I mean, like you offered to help me if I needed it. And y'know, this being Overwhelm and all, I mean, if anyone else had said it to me, I think I'd've thought they were, like, having something devious in mind. But, I don't know why, but I think I can trust you. You strike me as someone I can trust." Daptin looked up and tried to read Granticaine's expression, but it was the same strong bemused glare as usual. "You can trust me, man. I've about had it with these flounders around here, and you know my word is my law. Also, if you have something challenging in mind, I'm more than game!" Daptin took a deep breath and held both his hands up. "This is like, so fucking intense. I mean, I have this thing I have to do, but I don't know where to begin, like, explaining it. I mean, it's like extremely dense. I mean, like it's so--" "--Daptin, I feel you have a worthy challenge in your mind, but let us retreat to a more secure area to discuss it, eh? To whit, someplace far from Aconck tech, if you get my drift." Daptin sighed and nodded his head. "Yeah." Granticaine looked around and then he and Daptin heard a crashing sound, followed by a pudgy little green faery running from around the corner and into Granticaine. "Hide me! Hide me!" the little faery yelped in a high-pitched wail. "Away with ye!" Granticaine exclaimed as he backed away. "The faery problem?" Daptin asked. "Aye," Granticaine said. "They can't seem to keep order around here." The faery clutched its belly with one hand and let out a delirious and exaggerated laugh while waving its other hand in the air. "Shut the fuck up!" Daptin said. With this, the faery shot up and through the ceiling near fast as a bullet. "And Treyess thinks this is all such a joke," Granticaine said. "Dude, that was pretty severe. I mean, c'mon." All of a sudden Supple Jake, a woman with black hair and harsh hippie poetry garb, came bounding around the corner. "Where is that little bastard!" she said. "Through the ceiling," Granticaine said, looking up. "Hmph!" Supple Jake said. "Hello Jake," Daptin said. "Huh? Oh hello there Daptin. Where ya been?" "Around." "Haven't we all, hey? Now I must kill these faeries. You guys wanna help?" Granticaine put his arm around Supple Jake's shoulder and started to lead her away, his massive form making her look like a small child. "We'd love to help now, Jake, but we have business. Business, hey? I suggest you check upstairs." Jake looked up a Grant with a sort of dreamy smile. "Good idea Grant. Good idea." "Thank you," Grant said. Jake started to walk away, but Daptin called after her. "Hey uh, Jake. Don't tell anyone you saw me just yet, okay? Okay?" "Okay Daptin! I didn't see ya! Got it!" Jake said as she left the two. "Man this place is messed up since I left," Daptin said. "Quite so, Daptin. And the thing is, if a few locals see faeries, they'll be disbelieved as loons or liars or indulgerists. But if a lot get out, then there'll be no denying it, and I don't think Overwhelm Associates wants to get into anything that would draw attention like that here on Mate P." "That's right," Daptin said. "Now come along, we can take the superway down to Ostandon and get some strong tea and fend fruit and talk all about this problem of yours." "Um, sounds good to me." "But let's cool any serious conversation till we're there--the tech here gets up exponentially these days. You gotta see the new fabric reactor they got--it's hot." After a twenty-minute ride in light rain on the superway, a monorail-like train which runs parallel to Greatwall, Daptin and Granticaine got to Greatwall at Ostandon and went inside. On the way, Granticaine told Daptin a story about how the press virtually ravished him after the end of the war. "Let's just go here," Granticaine said, walking toward a Hello Tarby (a chain restaurant popular along Greatwall). "Fine by me, Grant." As the two entered, they looked around. "I think we can just take the table over there," Granticaine said. They went over and sat at the table. It was midday, and the place wasn't very busy. "I always feel so uncomfortable just hanging out at the Wall," Daptin said. "They don't have Arcticans here, and with this green hair of mine, everyone must think I'm some sort of radical student protester or something." "Oh come now, Daptin. You're probably just imagining it. You don't have it near as bad as some of the hairies, like Vladimir Bonk or Caffeine. And poor Pantry Lurkin, he sticks out like a sore thumb. We try to dress him up as a little kid, but it's never easy." "I guess. It's just that, y'know, being Arctican in Baskonontana is tough enough. All the jokes and stuff. But travelling to so many different Earths, I guess it's just that green hair isn't so popular anywhere." "I wouldn't worry about it Daptin. And, if I'm not mistaken, isn't there a green-haired character in The Essex of Toal Tarby? I see representations of her around quite a bit." "I think so, Grant, but it's a woman and stuff, and wasn't it like in a vision or something? I don't know. I could hardly get through his book. I mean, I know it's, whatever, these people's Bible, but it seems a little silly to me." "Personally, I found it a fun work, but hardly something to build a civilization upon. This is a damn fine Earth though, compared to the multitude I've visited myself. Nice and peaceful, and that's what matters, I'd say." "Uh-huh." "Actually, there's a book on my Earth that's somewhat similar, called The Dalcoyn Hightime. I've been reading it on and off for awhile." Daptin nodded. Grant took a deep breath and looked around. They were silent for a time, then Grant spotted the waitress. "Hey! Hostess! May we order?" Grant yelled. A waitress carrying a tray full of empty plates and glasses turned to the two. "Uh, be with you guys in a minute. Okay?" she said as she went into the kitchen. "Hey, she's a hot one now, hey pal?" Granticaine said. "Damn nice," Daptin said, thinking of Spanking New Sarah and whether or not he'd ever be in her bed with her again. He also thought of Fluffy Netherfuck, his friend Tanner's goddessfriend, and wondered what she was like in romance. Granticaine put on a neutral smile and looked out the window into the main corridor of Greatwall at Ostandon. In the distance, a band began playing a Toal Tarby-based folk song. "Man, these folks are so obsessed with Toal Tarby," Daptin said. "Well, that is the whole basis of all of Greatwall. I see it as an interesting impetus to construction. Greatwall is undeniably one of the most fabulous structures in all of known Aconck. Every inch of his mythical trek now one enormous building. I say, whatever the motivation, it must be good to result in such a wonder as the place we're sitting in now." "I guess. But it's like, Adanden is totally covered and guarded. Under glass. And artificially preserved. I mean, if Toal Tarby does ever return, what would he think?" "Well Daptin, if I were him, I'd be very pleased with what was conceived of in my honor." "Yeah. I don't think he'll be coming back, though. I mean, people just use him to increase their business. I don't think many people believe in the whole thing at all." "No? Let's find out," Granticaine said as the waitress, a pretty young woman with a conservative blond Mohawk, approached the two. "You ready?" she asked. "Yes, but I have a question for you--do you believe that Toal Tarby will return, and if so, when?" Granticaine asked. "What, are you guys from TV?" the waitress asked. "No, we're just, eh, foreigners curious as to what you Greatwallers really think about all this Toal Tarby stuff," Granticaine said. "Well, I don't live here. I grew up in Ostandon, but out in the suburbs. I'm no Waller. I mean, I work here and everything. But I don't know. It's a nice idea, him returning. I mean, the whole telephone thing is, well, it's interesting, a telephone all those centuries ago. But I don't know. I guess I don't really care either way." "See?" Daptin said. "It's just one person!" Granticaine replied. "Whatta you guys think? And where are you from anyway, Coipte-Cross?" "Heh heh, no. But a long ways away, at that," Granticaine said. "I just think this whole thing, with Tarby and everything, seems a little silly to an outsider," Daptin said. "I guess," the waitress replied. "So what can I get for you?" "Okay," Granticaine said. "How about the full fend fruit entree, and several strong teas, hot and cold. Okay Daptin?" "Fine." "That's it? Okay, it'll be just a few minutes. And try not to worry about our local customs too much, okay?" she said with humor. "Okay, Sleap," Daptin said, looking at the waitress's nametag. Sleap looked down at her nametag, smiled, and strode back to the kitchen. "Rather friendly of you, Daptin old fellow." "What can I say? I'm a friendly guy." "Yes." Granticaine was fiddling with a little card thing on the table announcing a special deal on some sort of potato product. "So Grant, you wanna hear the whole--I dunno--the whole deal here, with the thing I need to do and stuff?" "Okay." "Well, I mean, okay. I think I can trust you. I just wanna, y'know, be clear on like, that this is all in confidence. I mean, you'll see soon enough the nature of what it is I'm gonna tell you, so like, I wanna, I just wanna know that you'll keep it, y'know, in confidence and stuff." "Daptin, I am a man of my word, as you well know. And I give you my word that what you tell me now will be in the strictest confidence." "Okay good, that's all I needed to hear. Anyway, I guess I'll just spill my guts. Back on Red Alley Earth, where as you know Bavler Bestroystraw began Aconck, there is--how can I put this--there is a place where these gods live. And I'll tell you, if you're familiar with Bavler's writings, you know about Sweptim. Well, I think I may have discovered the remnants of Sweptim. I mean, they claim they've been there for all time, but I have serious doubts. Now, no one else in Aconck knows about this--just me. And now, I guess, you too." Granticaine looked very serious as he tried to let the information sink in. "Go on." "Okay," Daptin said. "There are five cities, connected to each other and to Red Alley, by standing bridges. I mean, they're definitely bridges, but they're permanent, and very stable--none of this 50% stuff--you get through the first time, every time. And apparently, they're concealed by advanced situation claying, far more advanced than anything we have in Aconck. And their tech is also far beyond ours, although it might all be old stuff from Sweptim, I don't know. Anyway, Grant, see, I was, when I was visiting my friends at Thatterine College, where I graduated from, they told me about this place called Agoopish, and then they just, like, took me out to this abandoned area and then like, we were just in this weird city." "And these friends of yours--they know nothing of Aconck?" Granticaine asked. "No. At first I thought it was related to Aconck, but then I realized it wasn't. I was thinking of telling a few people, but I didn't. I mean, it was weird. They were expecting me to like totally flip out, but really, I was like, big deal guys, I've been to tons of other worlds. But like, I tried to make like I was totally shocked and stuff. But this is a definite thing, that the two worlds, I mean The Avert Cities and Aconck, are separate. I mean, think about what the companies would do if they knew about it? All sorts of new armaments and tech, and a lot of potential operatives in the Avert mortals. And the potential for reopening Sweptim--y'know--it could destroy all of everything we know. So like, you can see where I'm coming from." Granticaine took a deep breath and rubbed his chin in deep thought. Sleap the waitress came out with a tray full of strong teas and fend fruit. "Here y'all go," she said, setting the stuff down. "Thanks," Daptin said. "Still contemplating the absurdities of Greatwall?" she asked. "Yeah," Daptin said. "It's a strange world out there. A lot to see. A lot to see." "I know what you mean," she said. "I've always wanted to travel more. It seems like so many people ignore the world outside of Greatwall. It's like, let's go to Porbe, let's go to Goal, it's all the same. There's a whole world out there! But who'll listen?" "Yeah. Travel's great," Daptin said, a little impatient as he could see Granticaine chomping at the bit to ask him more questions. "Yeah," Sleap said, "I don't know. People here are just so used to Tarby and the Return of Tarby. I mean, just look at this place, 'Hello Tarby'. It's like there's so much else out there besides all this, but..." "I know what you mean," Daptin said. "So much out there, and like, so little time and stuff to do it." "Yeah. Well, gotta get the register. Enjoy!" Sleap said as she brightly walked away. "Ah, strong tea. My favorite thing about Mate Pavement Earth," Granticaine said. "This weird fruit ain't bad either." "Not bad at all," Granticaine said, taking a bite out of an oblong, peeled blue citrus. "Now Daptin, I must tell you. I read a lot and I've become quite conversant with Bestroystraw's works and related materials, and I have to say that if you're right, we're faced with a dilemma." Granticaine finished off the fruit with a loud slurp. "I'm just telling you what I know. I could be wrong," Daptin said. "I realize that, but from what you're saying, I think you may have something. But tell me, beyond all this, what is the mission you referred to before?" "Okay. I had become what in Avert they term a 'mortal', which means I can handle their bridges and use their tech. The gods can't go through bridges themselves. Anyway, they had sent me on my first official mission, they being The Caxopy Group, a small mortal organization. Anyway, they had us, me and my friend Fake Cerquaine, go on this mission with this Cup of Coffee to rescue this girl who was like trapped inside the Cup. Anyway, to make a long story short, they lied to us and we wound up in this totally fucked-up place, and we were attacked by this gang, and I ate some goodbye popcorn, a piece of their tech, which makes you not exist for awhile." "They have tech popcorn?" Granticaine asked. "Yeah. All sorts of stuff--you gotta see it. Anyway, apparently it didn't work there and I was like totally eradicated. Then like, I mean, if I'm telling you this I may as well tell you about Obfuser. He's an Ultra Occult Entity, and he like saved me since I was like dumped out by reality like billions of years later. So he returned me here--that's how I got back. So I have this Cup of Coffee, and I need, just to, y'know, rescue my friend Fake, and maybe, y'know, figure out things with the Caxopys. I mean, deal with why they did this to us." "Well Daptin, it sounds like a mission I can certainly help you with. What exactly is the course of action, or do you even know?" "It's like," Daptin said, "Obfuser told me to drink some of the Coffee and go through a bridge, and then I'd get back to that world where I left from, and to stay with Fake until the Coffee in my system took us back to the Cup, which I'd leave back here at Greatwall. But like, we'd need to fight off that gang." "I see. Did they seem formidable?" "Oh man. Formidable? Forget it. They creamed us, and we were armed to the gills. No, they're definitely a force to be reckoned with." "I see," Granticaine said. "Perhaps we should bring my whole team, if you feel comfortable letting them in on this." "Well yeah, but like, I mean, do they need to know everything? I mean, we're going to some undefined world, and then back to Greatwall, so like, if they do come, could they like..." "Don't worry Daptin. They'll understand if things aren't entirely explained to them. And frankly, they're so anxious to see some action, I doubt if they'll have many questions." "Good. I just hope old Provocation Team D is up to the challenge." "Daptin, you know we're competent. In fact, we're far too competent for the use Fife is putting us to. I've been so serious about forging a lethal fighting team, it's taken me a long time to realize that Fife and the others are far too disorganized to need such services. No, I think something like this is just what we need." Granticaine drank a whole glass of cold strong tea and put it down. Daptin wondered, in light of what Granticaine had just said, if it was wise to reveal the whole story to him, since The Avert Cities weren't directly involved. But he was relieved that the burden of being the sole holder of the knowledge of Aconck/Avert was lifted from him. And Grant and his little team might be useful backup in confronting the Caxopys as well, if that eventuality ever occurred. "Well, at least with all this weird universal stuff going on, there's still nice, stable places like this," Daptin said, holding a cup of tea and looking down into it dreamily. "Stability seems to be the norm in my travels," Grant said. "It's funny, one might expect a lot more disorder than is commonly seen in Aconck. Perhaps it is that the original formulae derived by Bestroystraw favor stable worlds. I don't know." "Well like, if you ever like get to see Agoopish and stuff, man, you'll see disorder in action, like, in full force, y'know." "This whole world of the gods you describe is extremely interesting, Daptin. I hope you'll truly consider taking me to this place." "I think, y'know, I think we can do that. It's just, y'know, I don't wanna make it like a big scene, y'know? I don't wanna open like the floodgates between these two worlds. Aconck and Avert are like, y'know, like oil and water or something. They don't--or won't--mix." "Well, with what we know of Sweptim, if these are the survivors, I'm sure they'd react pretty violently to the news that their old interconnection of Earths has been resurrected, even given that Bestroystraw claims to have overcome the deadly flaw in the Sweptim formulae." "I dunno, Grant. It's just like, it's like being there, there's so much that seems hidden. I don't know. I mean, there's just so much, uh, I don't know..." "You know many goddesses there?" Granticaine asked, stirring a sweet black spice into some hot tea. "Huh? I uh, well, I mean there's lots and lots of goddesses there. And like, for some reason I had access to the god community right away. I guess it's because I'm a mortal there, but I dunno. I seems sort of, almost, suspicious. I don't know. But yeah, I knew a number of goddesses. I mean, I know them. I do plan on going back." "Are they nice?" "Nice? Yeah! They're amazing. I mean, you like get buzzed and tingle all over just being near them. It's really weird. That's one reason I doubt the Sweptim thing--they really do seem to be like, I dunno, like deities." "Hmm. I'd like to see what this is all about. I've long suspected that there's a lot more going on than just Aconck, and it looks like my patience has finally found fruit." "Yeah." "Found fruit, not to be confused with fend fruit, eh?" "Heh heh, no," Daptin said, smiling. Granticaine took a big bite out of a piece of fruit and looked again out the window into the interior of Greatwall. "So Daptin, what sort of framepoint are we looking at for this mission of yours? Is it time-sensitive?" "Um, well y'know, that's a pretty good question. Obfuser didn't make that part very clear. In fact, he didn't make much of anything clear." "Is this Obfuser fellow contactable?" "Um, generally no. I have been able to get him to show up on a few occasions, but there were special circumstances involved. I had kind of a supernatural problem back in college, which as far as I know is not connected to any of this other stuff. And he helped me with all that, y'know." "Hmm," Granticaine said, nodding. "I mean, I know very little of the physics of the matter, this whole time travel thing. I assume time is running pretty much equiv between here and there, where Fake is. I guess he put me back a little while after I disappeared. And at this point..." Daptin looked down for his wristwatch, only to find he wasn't wearing it. "Need the time?" Granticaine asked. "Yeah." Granticaine flipped up a portion of his collar to reveal a clock which appeared to be embroidered into the fabric. "It's a little after 3:30." "That thing actually works?" Daptin asked. "Yeah. I know it seems unlikely, but the underlying mechanism is actually quite simple. It's from Govern Wetness Earth, or so I'm told." "Huh. Well, I guess that if I include a lag time for the popcorn, like say two hours, and the time since I got back, I'd say it's been something like four or five hours since I left Fake in that weird place." "I see. But I'm curious, why didn't you let the girl escape before you?" "Well, I dunno. She was like, I mean it was a real tense situation. It was like a split second thing. If I had offered her the popcorn, she might not have taken it. I mean, I took a real risk doing that, and I almost got erased for good. So I mean, like, it didn't even cross my mind. I thought I could get the Cup of Coffee away from the situation and hope things had, y'know, improved when I got back." "I see. And what makes you think this gang hasn't slain your friend by now? Or captured her and taken her back to their base of operations?" "I don't know. Obfuser seemed to think it'd be pretty easy to get her back." "Well, from my perspective, we're walking into a very unsure situation. I would like more time to prepare, but unfortunately, from what you've described, time is our enemy. I think I'll call Mallie and have the team assemble in a set location. Do you need to get anything from Greatwall Base?" "Yeah! I have a lot of stuff there. And like, I mean, I have to keep the Cup of Coffee in my apartment, and after I drink it we have to go though a bridge right away. So I mean--" "--I can't afford to build a bridge unannounced at the base," Grant said. "We have to be far away, as they'll monitor it. And they might follow after if they don't like what they see." "But after I drink the Coffee, we might fall out, off of this world at any time." "Then what does the bridge have to do with it, Daptin?" "Well I guess--I mean, he said that it was too loose here to fall out normally, I mean..." "So what is it? Does the bridge do it or not?" "Yeah! But we can't cross so much space, or it might start right then." "So? If it starts, fine! The purpose of the bridge is to transport us to this world, right? I assume the Coffee will alter the nature of the bridge." "No, it's not quite like that, Grant. It's like, he said, Obfuser said that one travels cupward, whatever that means. He implied that the state of reality, I think like the ratio of situation-to-reality, has to be tight to travel this way. On a regular Earth it's too loose. In Avert, it's so tight it's almost instant. And apparently, the act of bridging creates a tight ratio. So I don't think it even matters where the bridge is to, not that there are so many options along the Wall." "I see. But I maintain that we must bridge in an area as far from the base as possible. Do you think the Coffee will last a trip to, say, Goal?" "I guess so, but it's just so, I dunno. It seems like almost a waste of time. If we're totally gone, they can't follow us anyway." "Daptin, humor me on this one. If we start to slip out the this world before we get to Goal, in this cupward direction as you say, then all the better. Okay?" "Alright. And I mean, I'm not trying to be difficult, it's just that, like, I wanna do this right." "We will do it right, Daptin. We will." After finishing the meal, Granticaine paid the bill. As they were leaving the Hello Tarby, Granticaine found a little business card attached to the receipt with a note scrawled on the back, reading "Greenie--every Faprintarb, Copanck Center Basement NE, occult meeting--try it! Hope I see ya there--Sleap Drassy." Granticaine looked over and saw that Daptin had not seen the card, so he carefully placed it in a little pocket on his sleeve. At first glance, he thought the note was for him, but upon seeing the reference to "Greenie", he realized it was to Daptin. There was something special about this Sleap Drassy, and he definitely wanted to keep the key to getting to know her better. Besides, his mind was racing trying to cover all the angles on what Daptin's motivation might be for telling him all these things and recruiting him for this mission. Was Daptin telling the truth, or was it a scam of some sort? Was he being manipulated? Granticaine continued to ponder this issue, as well as when the hell Faprintarb was. Another of Toal Tarby's gifts to this Earth was a cute scheme of giving each of the 42 four-hour segments of time in a week a specific name. Faprintarb was one of these, but he'd have to look it up. "So what exactly are we doing?" Daptin asked Granticaine, as the two walked along the promenade of Greatwall at Ostandon. Like most of Greatwall, it seemed like the interior of a mall--a mall that stretched on for hundreds of miles either way. "Well Daptin, I have decided on a course of action, and before we begin, I want you to agree on it. I propose we go back to Overwhelm, where you can make the preparations you need to make, and I can round up the team. When we're ready, you can drink the Coffee and we'll take the superway up to Goal. I know it's a long trip, but believe me, we have to keep Overwhelm out of this, and Goal is a good place to bridge in and out of because of all the activity there. Then, if indeed we begin to travel in this 'cupward' direction you referred to, we'll deal with things as they come, with our objective being the rescue of your friend Fake, and the safe return of us all to Greatwall. Any additional matters, such as visits to this place Agoopish, will be dealt with at a later date. Agreed?" "Yeah. I still don't know why we can't just go out into the woods of Cagapin and bridge from there, but if this is the way you want to do it, I accept your judgment." "So it's agreed then?" Grant asked. "Yeah. Agreed." "You sure you don't need some rest before we go, Daptin?" "No, I feel fine. I guess technically I haven't slept for billions of years, but as far as my circadians go, it's, y'know, like midday." "Good. And Daptin, know that I have given you my trust. This is not something I do lightly. So please keep in mind that in a mission such as this, a time may come when you will need to give me your trust in a split second. I hope you'll keep this in mind." "Hey man, no problem." A few hours later, Daptin and Granticaine were on the superway heading up to Goal, along with the other three members of Provocation Team D--Wreckage Mallie, Pantry Lurkin, and Iterator of Rail Avenue. Granticaine had rounded his fellows up but didn't tell them very much, except that there was an emergency mission which was not under the authority of Overwhelm Associates, but also did not deal with OA's sphere of activity. Daptin geared up with his mortal supplies which he had left behind in his apartment for his meeting with Granticaine. Daptin also performed the daunting task of drinking from the Cup of Coffee, which he decided to do quickly without freaking himself out too much about it. He found that the lid came off quite easily, and that the coffee was about the best he ever tasted. In short, it seemed like a freshly poured cup of excellent black coffee, no sugar. He had drunk about four or five mouthfuls of the stuff before he felt he had enough in his system. Afterward, however, he felt very weird, and he couldn't tell if it was just a psychosomatic response to having done such a bizarre thing, or a real effect of having 40,000-year-old coffee in one's stomach and bloodstream. "It's a nice area up here," Wreckage Mallie said, looking out the window at the sun setting over the hills which run parallel to the northern section of Greatwall. Mallie was an athletic sort with very short black hair which bristled. He wore a gray sweatshirt with tan rough pants, and carried a duffel bag with a gun and a pipe inside. "Hee hee, nice indeed. Big nice land, I agree!" said Pantry Lurkin, an odd little faeryish fellow, not even three feet tall, trying his best to pass as a midget, but attracting scores of stares nonetheless. He wore a diminutive red plaid shirt and a pair of tiny blue jeans, which looked ridiculous on his spidery frame. On his sharp face was a black mustache, and though he tried to hide them, his pointy ears always managed to see the light of day. Also, he insisted upon wearing his blue cap with its two long and droopy black feathers. "What's that thing over there? A water tower? I saw it before," said Iterator of Rail Avenue, a woman of average build with short, very light brown hair, who wore a suit of tan and brown with a lot of complex layers, cords, buttons, connections, etc. She was a quiet sort, never asserting herself very much. She seemed sad all the time. "Um, I don't know, Iterator," Daptin said. "I've seen it a couple of times too. Is it something from the Essex of Toal Tarby maybe? I dunno." Iterator of Rail Avenue looked over at Granticaine with a sort of longing look. "Uh Daptin, it's a small point, but as you might remember, Iterator of Rail Avenue likes to be referred to by her full name, the full 'Iterator of Rail Avenue'," said Granticaine, shifting in his seat to try to hide Pantry Lurkin, who was looking out the window and acting hyper, from a group of college students across the train who seemed fascinated by the little fellow. For some reason, they didn't pay much heed to Daptin's flaming vest or submachinegun. "Sorry," Daptin said to Iterator of Rail Avenue. "I remember you saying that way back when, but I kinda thought you were joking. I didn't see much of you on my Quality Scouting." "Well it's okay," said Iterator of Rail Avenue, "but it makes no sense unless you say the whole thing. Just saying 'Iterator' is meaningless. It sounds totally wrong." "Okay. 'Iterator of Rail Avenue' it is, Iterator of Rail Avenue," Daptin said. "Thanks." "Yeah, and where did that name come from anyway?" Daptin asked. "I could tell you but we don't have time," Iterator of Rail Avenue said. "Hers is an odd tale, indeed," Granticaine added. "Oh, hee hee!" Pantry Lurkin said with an evil grin, turning to face the group. "A silly silly odd tale, a wonder! Weird mystery, the super duper duper doo!" "Now this feller," Granticaine said, "this feller you can call just Pantry, as he misses his, the one he lurked in for such a time." Pantry Lurkin sat back in his seat, and closed his eyes with an exaggerated smile on his face. He remained so for several moments. "Stop it Pantry, you scare me when you act like that," Iterator of Rail Avenue said. Pantry Lurkin's eyes shot open, and he began to giggle under his breath hysterically. "I think some of those alien faeries got into his system," Granticaine said. Pantry Lurkin instantly stood up on his seat and pointed his finger toward Granticaine, with his arm fully outstretched. "Oh no--not them!" the strange little fellow said, with a mockingly serious look on his face. "You're weird," Iterator of Rail Avenue said. With this, Pantry Lurkin pointed his finger at Iterator of Rail Avenue for a few seconds. And then in a flash, he sat down again and held his knees tightly to his chest, staring weirdly at Iterator of Rail Avenue. "I'm glad to see you have such stable people on your team," Daptin said to Granticaine. "He's just like my little brother," Wreckage Mallie said. Pantry Lurkin shifted his stare to Mallie. "A total hyper spaz," Mallie continued. "He can't sit still." With this, Pantry Lurkin pointed his tiny index finger skyward, and noisy multicolored sparks started to gather above it. A few of the college students got up to see what was making the noise. Granticaine looked calmly over at the students and then gently put his hand on Pantry Lurkin's back. "We're on the train, Pantry. It's a public place," Granticaine said in an even, relaxed tone. The sparks stopped, but Pantry Lurkin kept his finger in the same position, as he smiled weirdly at Grant. The train then lurched to a halt, and the students sat back down. "Uh, we have a stop signal," a voice said over the intercom. "We'll be moving shortly." The five individuals sat silently for several moments. Finally, Mallie spoke. "So can you tell us more about the mission now, Grant?" "I think we may be far enough away from Cagapin," Granticaine said, but then things changed. For a few moments, it was as if there were two or three superimposed images of the five in the same space, and it got totally silent. "What's happening now?" Iterator of Rail Avenue said, bracing herself against her seat. Pantry Lurkin jumped up to again stand on his seat, looking back and forth with a wide smile. "It's the Coffee," Daptin said. "The Coffee. The Coffee. It's that we're falling off this Earth now." "How should we do it?" Mallie asked, getting disoriented. "Do nothing!" Daptin yelled, feeling himself getting heavier and heavier. "Just sit still. Do nothing!" Suddenly, all that could be seen was a close-up view of a wooden statue of a cannon, in an ornately adorned room. A musty odor came, along with the sound of a distant jet airliner. "What kind of is this!" Wreckage Mallie could be heard to say, ever so faintly. "Wait for the," Daptin said through clenched teeth, then lost consciousness. "Does it please your myselfness?" Iterator of Rail Avenue blurted out. All was dark. Soon Daptin awoke, dazed, to find himself and his four companions strewn about the edge of a water tank in a water treatment plant. The others were stirring. Pantry Lurkin, lying sideways, propped his head on his hand. "I like this mission," the little imp said. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 1: GOODBYE POPCORN CHAPTER 9 SR-009 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 19 sr19 01.6.2.1--Cupwards -------------------------- ============================== "Give me my stuff, you bitch." Fake Cerquaine sat imprisoned in a little cage made of splintered wood, held together with darting, little black lines. Kesh the Vector stood nearby, maintaining the cell with little effort. Classic of Logic was examining Fake's equipment in fascination and awe. "Maybe if you give us the Cup you can have your things back, dear," Classic said without looking up. "But you do have some keen baubles here." "Yeah well, don't touch any of it cuz you don't know what you're doing and it's goddamn dangerous," Fake said, grabbing at one of the pieces of wood, then cringing with the weird tickling sensation the vectors brought. "What's this?" Classic asked, picking up a pair of yellow socks with lavender polka dots. "Don't touch those! They're mine and only I know how they work!" Fake said. And then, turning to look up at Kesh she said "Let me out of here, you weirdo! She's gonna hurt herself! Can't you see?" Kesh tilted his head slightly. Fake now saw that within the darkness of his face was a square shape with patterns on it. It looked like a tile. It seemed to float within the head cavity. "My dear, this is no game," Kesh said. "And you needn't worry about Classic--she can do just about anything." Just then, Classic began giggling. "Christ," Fake said with a grimace. "It's such a pretty thing!" Classic said with a spaced-out look. "It's very far and very near." Classic then began rubbing the sock gently up and down her cheek. "Stop that, dammit!" Fake said, grabbing at the pieces of wood again. "Stop it, that's mine!" Suddenly, Fake flailed herself against her cage and succeeded in shattering a part of the structure. Smiling, she began to leap toward Classic, but in mid-jump she lurched to a halt, feeling Kesh's vectors flowing through her. "Really Miss Cerquaine," Kesh said as he lowered her and restrained her on the ground, and rebuilt the cage around her. "The construct was a courtesy, as most individuals find the tactile sensation of my vectors unpleasant. I don't relish this task, young lady, and I've hardly seen any glimmer of ability on your part to break free from me. Please make it simple on both of us." Fake felt the vectors leave her body as the cage was then fully rebuilt around her. Bith the Silly Train, who was sitting on Fake's cinder block to keep it under control, turned around from his lookout spot and yelled "Keep it down over there, you rattlers! I think I hear something!" Classic was now lying on her back toying with one of Fake's situation grenades. She snuggled it, smelled it, briefly licked it. "Hey you!" Fake yelled at Kesh. "Prettyboy! Are you blind? Look at what's happening to little miss perfect over there." Kesh the Vector turned to look at Fake and then at Classic of Logic, who was getting up with some difficulty. "I may not have eyes, but I can see. I can see, Miss Cerquaine," Kesh said. "And I'm sure Classic has a reason for her behavior. Hey, Classic?" Classic was still trying to get up, and then she spilled the can of conductor voice peas she was holding all over the ground. She tittered and fell down again. "Oh crap--did you see that! She breaking everything I own!" Fake yelled, pointing. "Classic, are you quite all right?" Kesh asked. Classic looked up at Kesh with a sweet drunken grin and her hair mussed up all over her face. "I feel... I feel pretty good, actually, Kesh," Classic said, and then she rolled over several times, finally winding up on her back. She blurted out another bout of laughter and reached over into Fake's pile of stuff and got a huge tin clock, currently in its cigarette-pack-sized form. She scrunched up her face and balanced the clock on her lips and nose. Kesh strode over to Classic and knelt down, examining the pretty young girl. Looking over at Fake, Kesh asked "Was there some sort of poison or narcotic in your weaponry?" "Not that I really know of, but I don't even understand most of that stuff. Just get her away from it! She's losing her fucking composure!" "I tend to agree with you," Kesh said. "Now Classic, what is wrong? Why do you act in such a manner?" Classic looked up at Kesh. "I don't know but it feels grand. I've never been drunk, but this is how it must feel," Classic said, looking up at the sky. "What a feeling!" Kesh reached out with his black lines and engulfed Classic. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself, dear, but for now let's just get you away from this stuff!" Kesh said, lifting Classic and moving her far from the pile of mortal supplies. "No Kesh! I like that stuff! I like that stuff!" Classic whined, whipping around like a rag doll, suspended in midair. "Never mind it, it's affecting your mind," Kesh said. "No! No," Classic said, and began crying a little. "Let me see those socks again, Kesh. Let me see it." "I've never seen you this way before, young lady. And I'll not be a party to such hazardous indulgence." Kesh didn't see it, but Classic still had a huge tin clock which she had stuck under her shirt. With a "Ha ha! Whee!" she tossed the metal object skyward. "What?" Kesh said, watching as the clock lurched unnaturally upward, growing steadily larger, until after a few seconds it hung diagonally and swaying high up in the air. It cast a huge shadow on the party, and it seemed enormous. As it wobbled, it looked like it might drop on the group at any moment. It's pendulum swung madly back and forth as a silent cuckoo bird shot in and out of its door. "It's gonna fall!" Bith the Silly Train exclaimed, looking up in horror. Elsewhere, at the water treatment plant, some folks were confused. Daptin Gone stood up and surveyed the scene. It was definitely a water treatment plant. They had all collapsed, but were now getting up. It appeared to be mid-afternoon. "What is it about this place?" Iterator of Rail Avenue asked. "It a fun, fun place!" Pantry Lurkin said, jumping about in a little jig. Granticaine Chug Perion looked around at the flat landscape dotted with huge power line towers and spoke. "No--Iterator of Rail Avenue is right--I feel something--familiar about this place--like--" "--like we work here?" Wreckage Mallie said. Daptin shook his head. "We do work here, don't we? I mean, we definitely do." "Poo in, faucet out, mister! The water treater of all is me and you, you, you. Uh-huh," Pantry Lurkin said, climbing up onto a railing looking over a huge pool of water. "No, you're right Daptin," Iterator of Rail Avenue said. "We do work here. We have for a while." Mallie knelt down and opened his duffel bag, examining the contents, a gun and a pipe. "I realize we work here," Mallie said. "I know it's the Arietta Sane City water treatment plant. I know I'm an assistant engineer." Daptin grabbed his forehead and spoke. "But--I mean, I know I don't have to bring this up, but weren't we, like, going to rescue my friend, Fake? And, I mean, I know it's obvious, but we just got here because of the Coffee I drank. I mean, we were on the superway at Greatwall just a minute or two ago." "That's true Daptin," Granticaine said, "but whatever the details, we do have to get back to work. Don't you see that? We have our responsibilities." "I wanna work. I like it," Pantry said. "Okay, we'll all go back to work in a minute," Iterator of Rail Avenue said. "But first let's sort this thing out with the just getting here, and the mission and everything." "You're right," Mallie said. "There's something here we're missing. It all seems to make sense, but it leaves me with a bad taste in my mind." "To coin a phrase?" Granticaine asked, referring to a popular song on his and Mallie's home Earth, 'Bad Taste in My Mind'. Just then, Bobby Murph and Kell Weaner came up a ladder onto the roof. "This the new coffee break hangout?" Bobby asked. "Coffee break?" Daptin asked, slightly shocked. "Boss's lookin' for y'all," Kell said. "Says he's got a munity on his hands." Bobby and Kell laughed. Granticaine, Daptin, Pantry, Iterator of Rail Avenue, and Mallie also started laughing--it just seemed funny. "Y'got that new in-line farbin intake, Iterator of Rail Avenue?" Bobby asked. "Yeah, we were supposed to get it Tuesday, but the jerks at Moppis sent it to Hoom!" Iterator of Rail Avenue said. "Well, we could really use it," Kell said. "Isn't that the truth!" Granticaine said. "Very many truthful, you do know!" Pantry said, walking toward Bobby and Kell. "I like work and good work is the best, Kell." "If anyone likes work, it's you Pantry," Kell said. Daptin looked out over the landscape and called out. "Hey, you guys all go back to work, but like, like me and Grant, we have to talk a little. In private." Grant looked at Daptin, puzzled. "Guy stuff," Daptin said, nodding and looking over at the others. "Okay, I know when a woman isn't wanted," Iterator of Rail Avenue said. "Let's go guys. If we're lucky the two of 'em will get fired and we'll all be happier." "Ha ha ha ha! Fire them all, the man said! The man is good, the man fires them all! Ha ha!" Pantry Lurkin said as he descended the ladder. "See you two later," Mallie said, and in a few moments Daptin and Grant were alone. "What do you want to talk about, my friend? You don't have a 'floppy disk', do you?" "No, Grant!" Daptin said through clenched teeth, "We have to talk about this mission thing." "What about it?" "Just look at me! My vest is on fire! I have a fucking machinegun!" Daptin said, shaking his gun. "And I have no memories of this place." "It's interesting you say that. I mean, I'm aware of what you're saying, yet the situation is undeniable. We work here, and live nearby." Daptin got more agitated. "Yes, yes, yes! The situation does exist, and I know it seems to outshadow all the other issues, but you are Granticaine Chug Perion, war hero and Aconck traveller. Why would you be working at a place like this? We were going to help my friend! We were on our way, and now this." Grant exhaled loudly and shook his head. "Okay--so you're saying this is some sort of--I don't know--psychic attack--messing with our minds?" "I don't know. But Obfuser did tell me the Cup of Coffee affects situation. He said--he said it wraps situation around you, that's what he said. He said it happened to Tavmatey." Daptin then felt a weird vibration throughout his whole body. With a look of horror on his face, it took him several seconds to realize the vibration formed the words "Daptin, where are you now?" "Grant," Daptin said, "this is getting out of control. That girl Tavmatey, who I talked to in the Cup, I just heard her, inside me." "I didn't--" Granticaine said. Daptin held his hand up. "I was at school," the vibration came, barely understandable. "What?" Daptin said angrily. "I was at school, that's why I couldn't talk," the vibration came. "Can you--can you hear me?" Daptin asked. "Yeah, but it's sort of muddled. I lost you right after you said something about 'communing the Cup' or something. I had to go to school so I just went, and now I'm back, and I'm so glad I can hear you, Daptin who's not my Daptin." Daptin closed his eyes, cringed, and shook his index finger back and forth trying to remember something. The vibration came yet again. "We had the international festival in--" "Shut up! Shut up!" Daptin said tersely. "Huh?" the vibration came. "Just shut up for a minute!" Grant put his hand on Daptin's shoulder. "You okay, Daptin?" Daptin opened his eyes. "Grant! This whole thing--it kind of makes sense. We do work here because that's the situation, but the situation was just thrust upon us. It's the damn Cup, the damn, the damn Coffee! It's doing this. It made this situation, somehow. And we have to get away from here." Grant looked down. "I know you're making sense, but if we don't get back to work--" "--what? What will happen? Do you even, do you even know what it looks like, y'know, inside the plant and everything? Can you even remember that?" "Sort of." "Yeah--like the basic layout and stuff--the situation! But not, y'know, like specifics, right?" "No, I guess not. But does that matter? I guess it does matter." Daptin fondled one of his situation grenades. "Yes it does matter. It does. Now I wonder if this damn thing'll work. They called it a situation grenade, said it would disrupt situation. I wasn't really sure what they meant, but now it's making some sense." "You shouldn't do that, not here. Think of the others," Grant said. "I don't want to use it , but it might be our only chance!" Daptin said, looking around again. "Jeez!" The two stood there for a couple of moments, silent. Daptin felt a brief vibration within him, but it was very faint. Finally, Grant spoke. "Best I can tell, my mind's been stunned or shocked somehow. And I can't really think clearly." "Dammit Grant! Didn't Overwhelm get that clarity hang done? Didn't you get it or something?" "Yeah they got it. I mean, we all got it, a few weeks ago." "Well do it, dammit!" "Okay," Grant said. Then he cleared his throat and in a louder voice said "Eighty-A Clarity!" A smile slowly came to Grant face. "Well?" "Yes it's working. Yes, working very well." "Good. But I don't have it, so you'll have to help me." Grant nodded his head. "Yes of course, but it's not that easy. I have a clear idea of what's going on, but even so, the situation, as you call it, is massively compelling. I'm afraid we'll get caught up in it if we go down to join the others." "We just have to cross sufficient space to get away from here, Grant. We just need to all get out of here." A voice came from the other side of the pool of water. "Okay, what the hell's going on, don't you guys care about the drinking public of Arietta Sane? C'mon, let's get real and get back to work. The torphid levels are not checked, Mr. Gone! You better hope they're baseline!" It was Rickal Nesoffin, the boss. Daptin looked to his friend for help, saying "Grant?" "We can't, um, tell you why right now but we have to stay out here awhile longer, okay?" Grant said. "No it's not okay, you bums!" Rickal said. "I don't care if you jerk each other off till the cows go home, but I need work done and that means now, folks." "I quit!" Daptin managed to blurt out. "Yeah, me too," Grant said. Nesoffin was shocked. "Fine! Then clear out your lockers and get out of here!" The two didn't respond. "Get on outta here or I'll have the sheriff escort you out in front of all the ladies. Would you like that?" "You'd do well to reconsider this course of action, friend," Grant said. "I'm not your--" Daptin then brandished his gun and waved it at Nesoffin. "Doesn't it seem at all odd to you that I'm carrying a gun like this? Why would I need a gun? At place like this? Huh?" "I'm not interested in your personal problems," Nesoffin said. Daptin fired a short burst into the air. Nesoffin, not impressed, said "Okay guys, I'm outta here," and walked back into the building. "Grant, we have to get the others out of there and get going!" "I know, but how? If we go down there, we'll get all caught up in it." Daptin thought for a moment, and then took out a huge tin clock. Reaching around in his pockets, Daptin asked "You don't have a pen, do you?" "No, why?" Granticaine responded. Daptin got out the geometric weight marker and sighed. "See, you had one," Grant continued. "I know but it's not a good pen." "Why not?" "Okay, shit, what the fuck," Daptin said as he carefully uncapped the magic marker and wrote the words '80-A CLARITY' across the face of the clock. He then carefully resealed the pen. "Wish me luck," he said. "Super!" He hurled the clock with all his superstrong might far off into the distance. It grew quickly until it hung several miles away up in the air, its pendulum swinging evenly, and its hugeness appalling. The words Daptin had scrawled were blown up to immense proportions across the face, readable by everyone for miles around. "Cool trick," Grant said. "So what now?" Soon a group of people came out onto the platform where Grant and Daptin stood, gawking in awe and horror at the huge tin clock in the distance. "Okay, who put what in the water?" they heard someone in the crowd say. Soon Iterator of Rail Avenue (with Pantry Lurkin sitting on her shoulders) and Wreckage Mallie came out onto the roof. Daptin and Grant went over to them. "Say it!" Grant said. "Eighty-A Clarity," Iterator of Rail Avenue said. "Wow, I see what you mean." "What is it? Oh yeah, Eighty-A Clarity," Mallie said. "Okay, now I understand about the job and the mission and stuff, but what the hell does that have to do with a UFO disguised as a clock?" "Eighty-A, Eighty-A, Eighty-A Clarity! Eighty-A, Eighty-A, Eighty-A Clarity!" Pantry Lurkin chanted. "Yahoo, I'm a pretty smart boy!" "Daptin doesn't have the hang," Grant said, "so we'll have to help him along. But right now, we have to cross a physical distance of some length to get us out of here, okay? Let's go down the ladder and off down that road, hey? Okay?" That's just what they did, and they were ten minutes into their walk when they heard a massive explosion as the clock fell to the ground. "Damn pen," Daptin said, and just as he said it, they cupslipped again. This time they heard a deep voice saying "Swish", and an image like colorful paint dripping into a whirlpool, along with a flowery scent. When it was over, they were sitting in something like a bathhouse or swimming pool, on turquoise-tiled benches, except there was no water around. There were, however, a number of naked people nearby, some of whom were performing sex acts on one another. Granticaine looked around and sighed. "Give me one of those grenades, won't you, Daptin." Without a word, Daptin handed Grant a situation grenade. Immediately, Grant pulled the pin and looked dumbly down at it. About ten seconds later, it exploded. The five experienced a silent shimmering around them, and their benches were transformed into tree trunks without any of the group changing position. The sex palace was transformed into a hilly gray wasteland. In the distance, a huge tin clock could be seen wobbling wildly. "Why'd you do that?" Pantry said. "I saw some sex I'm sure I did! I saw it more, but not today! Why escape such lovely peeking, deeny?" "Look--" Iterator of Rail Avenue said, "over there--the clock. But I thought it fell." "Yes, falling can be done well by a good clock! I fall too! I fall too!" Pantry said in a hyper manner. "It's not the same," Daptin observed. "It doesn't have the writing on it. And this place looks awfully familiar." "Could this be some... " Mallie said, "I don't know, some alteration of the world we were just in? I mean, a clock like that, I mean, you don't find one just--" "--I'd say we've arrived at our destination. Hey Daptin? Your comrade has those clocks, doesn't she?" Grant said. "Yeah she does," Daptin said. "That could well be one of hers. And I'm just about sure this was the place, though one devastated landscape looks the same as another, I guess." "Yeah--and notice," Grant said, "there isn't any overtly incongruous situation here, as we had in the last two worlds we were in." "Ug! Don't remind me of that last one!" Iterator of Rail Avenue said. "I'm glad you set off that bomb--cuz that was just... so perverted." "Mmm. Hmm," Pantry said, looking up at Iterator of Rail Avenue with a deviant smile. "So we just, I guess, should head over that way and, uh, rescue my friend, uh, I--" Daptin said. "--that would seem the best course of action, but we should be prepared for combat," Grant said. "I wanna try and reason with them," Daptin said. "After what happened to me when I ate the goodbye popcorn and woke up billions of years after the end of the universe, I don't wanna have anything else to do with that damn Cup of Coffee. They can fucking have it." "That's fine, Daptin," Grant said, "but remember--our goal is to retrieve your friend and return home safely. We need to guarantee that will happen--and if giving them the Cup does that without loss of life, all the better. But we don't know how desperate they are or what they're willing to do, so let's be on edge." "Okay," Daptin said distantly. Grant began walking up a slight incline toward the clock, and the rest fell into step behind him. "If it's a fight they want," Daptin said, loosely holding his gun to his chest, "it's a fight they'll get." "I kinda hope there'll be a fight," Wreckage Mallie said. "I need the exercise." "I'm gonna use my magic to kill. Oh yes!" Pantry Lurkin exclaimed. "Now Pantry, is that nice?" Iterator of Rail Avenue asked in a lightly-admonishing tone. "Yes," Pantry stated, staring blankly off into the distance. "I mean--let's put it this way," Daptin said. "If all they want is the damn Cup, they can have it. I should've just brought it." "But then we'd have nothing to bargain with," Mallie said. "If they're stronger than us, we'd be dead. As it is, they need us to get the Cup, right?" "How the hell are we getting back, anyway?" Daptin said. "I mean, when the true Coffee in my system vanishes, like, I know we're supposed to return, but where? Near the Cup?" "I very much hope so," came a female voice from behind them. Turning around, they saw Pattern Integrity hovering in the air and pointing her Massive Assault Weapon at them. Instantly, Grant recognized her uniform--it was from the same army he had been in, back in Dramptica. "Now just relax," Daptin said, holding up his hands. "We don't need a repeat of last time. I'm willing to give up the Cup, but I need my friends back." "If that's true, why'd you bring back-up and why don't I see the Cup?" Pattern asked. "Because you are an unknown enemy," Granticaine said, "and force is the universal language. One that we're somewhat fluent in, Major." Pattern looked down at the emblem on her shoulder and then back at Grant, studying him. "You're not Lord Perion, are you?" she asked curiously. "I am Granticaine Perion, young lady. I see you wear the colors of Dramptica, but your uniform and weapon are strange. Are you indeed in the Barzhims?" "I was once," Pattern said, raising her weapon away from the group cautiously. "Now I seek the Cup." "Where are my friends?" Daptin asked. "Over by the clock," Pattern said, and then returned her fascinated gaze to Grant. "How could it really be you? You're long dead. I mean, I've seen some strange things these past decades, but never a major historical figure." "I was major when I killed President Emmerdine, but the war was already won," Grant said. "Are you kidding? You were Lord Emperor. You ruled over half the world. And we're still fighting for the other half in your great-great-great-granddaughter's name." "I don't know anything about that," Grant said. "You were our great leader. You turned all of history around." "Well I'm not into politics, so you must have the wrong guy," Grant said. "It was your well-known reluctance to get involved in politics which finally propelled you to the top, when things got out of hand." "You're talking about something which is in the distant future. I suppose that's where you're from. What year?" "When I left, it was 366 NN." "Well, to me it's almost 131 NN, so I guess we have a time travel thing here." Pattern stared at Grant and appeared to be daydreaming. She seemed a lot happier than she had been just moments earlier. "I'll go back and tell the others you're coming. I'm sure we can work something out. Just head for the clock," Pattern said, and then vanished, only to reappear a second later. "I just have to tell you, Lord Perion, I had such a crush on you when we studied you in school, especially the young you!" Pattern stared another moment at Grant, smiled broadly, and then disappeared again. "I think she likes you," Daptin said. "We have a crazy time spinner, a spin a time, a look look look Lord Perion, a look look look Lord Perion," Pantry said. "Don't call me that, pest," Grant said. "So should we head for the clock?" Daptin asked. "Why not? Grant's new girlfriend should sort everything out up there for us," Mallie said. Grant gave Mallie a dirty look, in good humor, but said nothing. They all started walking toward the clock. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 1: GOODBYE POPCORN CHAPTER 10 SR-010 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 21 sr21 01.6.2.2--Negotiation -------------------------- ============================== "Okay, okay," Daptin said, holding his hands up, walking toward Cup's Club. "Everything's cool. We talked to your friend there. Let's just sort this all out." The members of Cup's Club were standing at the ready. Coabler the Sawman pointed one of his saws at Daptin and asked "So where's the Cup of Coffee?" Daptin looked over at Granticaine, who shrugged, then back at Coabler. "Okay," Daptin said, "I'm gonna be totally honest. Some of it is in me. That is, I drank some of it." Coabler looked angry and puzzled. Daptin continued. "I mean, it's okay. The thing is, it's a pattern integrity, just like her. It'll go back together. In a while." Kesh the Vector moved a little closer to Daptin. "Let's assume you're telling the truth," the phantom said. "Why exactly have you drunk it?" "Um," Daptin said, "the idea is that, like, when the time comes for it to like, you know, go back, together, it will draw us all back into the regular world. Get us out of this place." "I see," Kesh said, sounding satisfied. "And you guys can have the goddamn thing when we get back," Daptin said. "The people who hired us used us as pawns. We have no personal interest in the Cup." "So why did you guys go on the mission in the first place?" Demolish All asked lazily, looking at her long black fingernails, leaning on a log. "We didn't know!" Fake said, sitting on the other end of the log. Kesh looked toward her. They had let her out of her cage on the condition she behaved herself. "So what are you saying?" Coabler asked, looking from Fake to Daptin. "You were sent on a mission, but you subsequently discovered that you were being deceived?" "Yes!" Fake yelled. "Cool it," Classic of Logic said, standing nearby with her arms crossed, glaring at Fake. "How?" Coabler said. Just then, Daptin felt the vibration throughout his body of Tavmatey trying to talk to him. He couldn't understand it, however. He cringed, and getting a little upset, answered Coabler. "Look buddy. Not that it's any of your business, but we could hear a girl's voice from inside the cup. We were supposed to rescue her, but it all went wrong. Or right I suppose, for them. But you guys came along and messed everything up. After the balloon, she told us everything, the girl we could hear." "Okay," Coabler said, looking over at Kesh, who nodded. "Just give me your word that you speak the truth, and we can get on to the business of figuring all this out." Daptin looked around. "Me? You mean me? Yeah. I give you my word. I give you my word that everything I told you is true, that we will give you the Cup if we can, and that we won't attack you, only defend ourselves." "That satisfies me," Coabler said. "Come hither and let us discuss many matters." With this, Daptin, Granticaine, Wreckage Mallie, Iterator of Rail Avenue, and Pantry Lurkin approached Cup's Club, who had arranged a number of logs into a rough circle. As Pantry Lurkin walked past Kesh the Vector and Bith the Silly Train, he looked up and said "I like weirdoes!" As Daptin found a log to sit on, he spied Jerald Hapal Hatch stirring a little, sprawled out on the other side of the circle. "Whatever happened to him?" Daptin asked Fake. "Whatever happened to you?" she shot back. "They just knocked him out. He's still alive though, maybe unfortunately. But what the fuck, man? Where did you find all these new psychos? Did you get back to Agoopish?" "Let me explain it all to you later. These 'new psychos' as you call them are my good friends. Just trust me on this." "Fine," Fake said, looking away. All twelve individuals were seated around the circle of logs, and Coabler took charge of the affair. "I have been seeking the Cup of Coffee for an extremely long time. I have the ability to walk toward the Cup. There have been several false Cups, but I believe the one you folks had was the true one. We just have to--" All of a sudden, a musical beeping noise could be heard. Instantly, Mallie looked down at his duffel bag. "What is that noise?" Kesh asked, a tone of alarm and threat in his voice. "Uh--it's, uh--it's my gun--" Mallie stuttered, nervous. "Gun?" Coabler bellowed, standing up. "Relax!" Granticaine roared in a tone of supreme authority. Pattern Integrity smiled at him intensely. "It's nothing more than a communication device built into his gun." "Probably just his girlfriend calling," Iterator of Rail Avenue said. "But I don't think--" Daptin began. "Okay, take it out," Coabler said, still standing, but somewhat calmer. "Okay," Mallie said, as he unzipped his bag, shaking in nervousness, and carefully picking up the gun in an unthreatening manner. Kesh looked at Coabler, saying "I would thoon safe." Coabler nodded. "Should I answer it?" Mallie asked, trembling. "I don't think--" Daptin said, but was cut off by Coabler raising his hand. "Okay sir," Coabler said, "now answer that call on the count of three. Understood? When the count reaches three, answer it." Daptin looked helplessly at Mallie, then at Granticaine. "One," Coabler said. "Hold on a second!" Daptin yelled, standing up. The musical beep chimed yet again. "I don't like this! This place is totally fucked up! Things don't work right. My popcorn sure fucking didn't!" "What are you trying to say?" Coabler asked. "Look fella--we're dealing with two totally different worlds here. Stuff designed for one place does weird stuff--maybe bad stuff in the other." "Fine. Settle down green-hair," Coabler said. "You know more about this than us. We'll just wait and hope the call stops." Just then, the warbling chime was replaced by a continuous tone. Mallie looked up, and said simply, "Shit." "What!" Daptin said. "Answering machine," Mallie said. A click could be heard, and Mallie looked at the base of the handle of the gun, where there was a little video screen. A little image of a young woman with gold-and-brown-striped skin came onto the screen. Her voice could be heard tinnily through the gun's speaker. "Hi Mallie, just wondering where the andle you are. Looks like you forgot our date again. Well, I guess I'll just have to go to Mompobla by myself tonight. And I didn't tell you before, but..." "Goddamn!" Mallie yelled, looking at Daptin. "I have to answer it! She's in danger! For real!" Daptin inhaled sharply. "Do you absolutely have to, Mallie?" The woman sounded like she was finishing up her message. "Yes Daptin! There are people there who'll--come on man!" Mallie pleaded. "Okay! Answer it!" Daptin yelled. But just as Mallie was fiddling with the controls, the screen went blank. "Fucking goddamn bastard!" Mallie said. "I gotta call her back right damn now!" Daptin looked down, sat on a log, and said, "Fine. Go ahead." "Just be nice and easy with that firearm," Coabler cautioned. "I will. I will," Mallie said, fiddling with some buttons. The screen filled with text. "Okay. It's going through," Mallie said. Muffled beeping noises could be heard from the gun, and soon the clicking noise was heard again and the woman's face came up. "Yes?" the striped woman said. "Hi Phazzy. It's me," Mallie said. The lighting around the group changed. Everything got just a little bit darker. "Barenfa! Where are you, baby?" Phazzy asked. Suddenly, things got brighter. A lot brighter. "I'm on a mission with Grant and the gang. But I can't--what the hell?" As the light had been getting brighter, it suddenly stopped, and the sky, which has been a very dull gray, became a gloriously bright green. Everyone looked up at the changed sky. "This is a really weird place," Mallie said, sighing. "But look honey, I'm not gonna be around tonight, but do not go to Mompobla. Kanvin is out." "Crap!" Phazzy said. "Nice of you to tell me." "I'm telling you now." "Fine. Guess I'll do some education tonight instead. But will you be back soon?" "Yeah," Mallie said, looking at Granticaine. "Yeah, I should be back for tomorrow." "Okay baby," Phazzy said. "Take care of yourself--I don't want you to pull a Cueria on me!" "No I won't," Mallie said, scratching his head. "So I gotta go now. Love you honey." "I love you too, baby. See ya." Mallie ended the call. Just before Phazzy's image left the screen, Mallie thought he saw the room behind her shimmering weirdly, but he figured it was just static in the signal. "That was important?" Daptin asked. "Yes. Very. She could have been killed." "Fine," Daptin said, looking up. "What the fuck was that that just happened? The sky?" "Who knows?" Fake said. "This place is so bizarre who cares if weird stuff happens? I mean--are you even surprised?" "First of all," Coabler said, "you turn that gun off. I don't want any more calls. And the rest of you, no more calls, hear me? And look at the sky--I've been in these cupworlds for years, and I've never seen anything like that. Now you folks gave me your word--can you tell me now that you didn't cause that?" "We didn't cause it, friend," Granticaine said. "Clearly," Kesh said, "we are in a highly unstable situation. I felt something when the sky changed--something that has me very worried. I think Daptin was right about these two worlds not mixing well. We must be careful." "I agree," Daptin said. "These kemig communicators use a very iffy and mysterious wave. Those idiots at Overwhelm shouldn't be issuing them without further testing." "Well, let us put such issues aside for now, and conclude this discussion," Coabler said. "And let me cut to the chase--am I right in believing, Daptin, that you will now take us all back to wherever the Cup is?" "Well, yes," Daptin said. "It's just, there's a time factor." "A time factor?" Coabler asked. "Yes. It will take some time, maybe like eight or twelve hours, before we can return." "And this is because the Coffee you drank will seek to reunite with the Cup?" Coabler asked. "Yes. I believe so," Daptin said. "Come over here," Coabler said to Daptin, who hesitated. Coabler narrowed his eyes. "I have the ability to feel the true Cup. If you have its Coffee in you, I should be able to feel it and verify your story." "I--I guess that should be okay," Daptin said, approaching Coabler. "Just hold out your hand," Coabler said. Daptin complied, and the Sawman took hold. After a few moments of concentration, he released Daptin. "That's an affirmative. Let's get going." "How do we know that we'll all be brought along?" Bith asked. Everyone looked at him. "I don't know," Daptin said. "It seems that if people are travelling together, they're all pulled along." "Quite right," Coabler said. "That's how my power works. But we have to be moving, walking. So let's get up and get a move on right now--we can't risk any of us being left behind." "Fine by me," Daptin said, getting up. "But what about Jerald?" "No problem for me to carry him, with my vectors," Kesh said quietly. Soon, the whole group had gathered everything together, and began walking in an arbitrary direction under that disturbingly brilliant green sky. The huge tin clock still wobbled in the sky behind them. They eventually found the way hard going--it seemed the slay balloon's intensity was so great near the epicenter, that it left only smooth ground--but beyond a few miles, tangles of broken trees made travel difficult. "This sucks," Fake said. "It would suck even worse if you were trapped on this shithole forever, which is what'll happen if I slip away while we're standing still," Daptin said. "Yeah great, but do we have to travel so fast?" Fake said. "Let's err on the side of caution, little one," Kesh said, floating easily over a fallen tree. Fake climbed over the tree with some difficulty, saying "Yeah, but Daptin, didn't you say it would be like eight hours or something before it happens? I can't keep up this pace. I tried to ride on my cinder block, but I'm too heavy!" Daptin looked over at her, her cinder block hovering close nearby. Then he looked ahead at the unconscious form of Jerald Hapal Hatch, floating along, shot through with vectors from Kesh. "Yeah," Daptin said, wiping some sweat from his forehead. "This is pretty rough going. But it's not like we're on an innocent hike. We're in pretty deep shit here, Fake. We're talking like never ever getting home if we're not careful." "Ha! You'll get back no matter what! You've got the Coffee inside you," Fake said. "Not necessarily," Coabler said, bounding over a tree trunk. "If Daptin isn't moving at the moment of return, he too may be left behind." Daptin looked ahead at Coabler, not too thrilled to hear that. "But uh, Coabler," Daptin said, "couldn't you just use your power then? Move toward the Cup?" "That's what I have been doing for a long time, green. It took us eighty years to find it. You fancy trekking another eighty?" "Good point," Daptin said. "But you know what I was thinking--like Kesh, could you maybe, I dunno, float a log and let some people ride on it or something?" Kesh paused in midair, turning to face Daptin. "That's not a bad idea. I thought of it myself, not too long ago, but there are a few problems with it. First off, I have my limits--I certainly couldn't carry everyone. Also--since we're being so purist in terms of travel, could riding a log animated with vectors be the wrong sort of travel?" "So what about Jerald?" Fake asked. "I'm carrying him, not a log. If he were conscious, I don't think he'd like the feeling." "Not much," Fake said, smiling, recalling the creepy feeling of Kesh's vectors. "Let's keep it as an option," Daptin said. "But for now, we'll make due." "The end of the quest," Classic of Logic said distantly. "Who cares about the Cup anymore?" Demolish All said. "I wanna have fun in the 'regular' world, whatever that is." "Hey you with the crowbar," Fake said. Demolish All stopped and turned. "Me?" "Yeah. I saw you blast that tree before. Why can't you blast a clear path for us?" "The junk we're climbing through now is a result of your destructive wave. What makes you think mine will be any cleaner? Just do another balloon, kid." "That would delay us a lot longer," Fake said, "waiting for the mass destruction to die dow. If you can't blast, it's no big deal. I guess I'm lazy. Always looking for ways to make this trip easier." "No big deal, there, chick," Demolish All said, continuing on. "I wanna destroy more! Blast 'em!" Pantry Lurkin said, riding on Mallie's shoulders. A few members of the party chuckled, but a moment later, a booming voice, deep and resonant, announced "It's Millicent!" "Who said that?" Pattern Integrity said, looking around in confusion. Ahead of them, the whole group saw a young woman standing on top of a fallen tree trunk, smiling and looking around. She wore a black overcoat, had a round face with neat, straight, long blond hair. "I actually did it--I'm inside the movie!" she said, nodding in satisfaction. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 1: GOODBYE POPCORN CHAPTER 11 SR-011 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 25 sr25 01.6.2.3--Millicent -------------------------- ============================== The group under the green sky stopped and exchanged annoyed glances. Coabler rolled his eyes and looked back at the rest of the gang. "Okay, who wants to deal with this?" Classic of Logic stepped forward and said "This is all we need." The girl who had just appeared smiled at Classic as she approached. "Well hello there Classic of Logic and all of you. My name is Millicent, and you know what? I'm inside the movie!" "Okay," Classic said. "When you say you're inside the movie, what exactly do you mean? Do you mean that you were watching a movie with us in it, and somehow used a superpower or device to step into the film?" "You got it!" Millicent said brightly, jumping down and leaning on the log. "I've always loved 'Cup's Club'--that's why I chose it." Daptin looked up at the green sky, and muttered "I knew that phone call was a bad idea." Bith, nearby, turned to Daptin and asked "Huh?" "I'm just saying, when Mallie made that call and the sky turned green, I knew something went wrong--and now this! A girl who steps into a movie and we're the movie. I mean, you know what? We're totally fucked." Fake stepped forward and addressed Millicent. "Look Millicent. As I'm sure you know from the movie, we're in a pretty bad situation here, and to us, it's reality. We have to keep moving." "I know. But you have some time yet. You can take a break and relax." "Can't you see?" Daptin said. "It was the phone call! A direct link between here and there, direct communication. Look at the sky! And now, we're in some really dangerous territory. Remember when we were working at the water treatment plant? Or that place where we were goddamn prostitutes? Now we're characters in a movie--or even worse--part of this babe's adolescent fantasy! I can't take it! I just can't fucking take it!" "Now wait a minute, Daptin," Granticaine said, sitting down on a boulder. "I think you're overreacting to this. I mean, just think about it. If there are infinite alternate worlds out there, then it makes sense that in one of them they just happened to make a movie about characters and circumstances identical to us right now. That doesn't mean we're in the movie." "I just have a bad feeling about the whole thing," Daptin said, his frost flame flaring. "Now Millicent," Granticaine said, "just where are you from and what method did you employ to get here?" "Well, I'm from a place called Canada, and I got here from a spell I read in an old book in the school library." "And girl," Granticaine said gently, "what exactly do you intend to do now that you're here?" "I just, you know, I just wanted to join you on your journey. You know, be friends with you." "Uh-huh," Granticaine said. "And just how are you planning on getting back?" "I don't know," Millicent said brightly. Daptin shook his head. "Let me get this straight. You found a spell in a book, and read it--where--in a movie theater?" "No--they were showing 'Cup's Club' at the library." "The same library the book came from?" Fake asked. "No--that was the school library. This was the main library." "And where is this book?" Granticaine asked. "I put it on the seat beside me," Millicent said. "I memorized the spell and recited it." "Okay I can't take it anymore," Mallie said. "What happens in the movie?" "What, the whole movie?" Millicent said. "No! The part after this part," Mallie said. "Well, you see, that's sort of why I chose this movie. This is real near the end. They kinda leave it open, you know, to like individual interpretation. We talked about it in class. You know, what people thought would happen and everything." "Great," Mallie said. "Do you want to go back, Millicent?" Granticaine asked. "Um--I dunno. If I could live here with you guys I don't think I'd ever want to go back!" "The spell," Classic of Logic said. "Do you remember it?" "Yeah. Uh-huh," Millicent said. "Is there a spell to reverse it?" Classic asked. "I think there was, but I didn't really read it." "Don't you think you should try and get back? You can always do the spell again, but you must have family who'll worry sick about you," Classic said. "I guess. But you know--I didn't really think it would work. I never expected it to." "So recite the spell!" Classic said. "Um, okay. But it doesn't make any sense. And it was the one to go into the story, not to get out. But I'll try it anyway. Here goes... 'Little tiny owl, small as a thimble, smart as a whip, furry like a bat, and what do you think of that?' ...huh. I'm still here. Guess it doesn't work the other way around. I told you there was another one to get back." "You're a long way from Kanda," Fake said. "Canada!" Millicent said, stressing the pronunciation. "Canada, whatever," Fake said. Daptin lost his patience. "Okay people, whatever. Millicent, congrats, you're now an honorary member of Cup's Club. Now can we all get a goddamn move-on? I for one really want to see what happens next in the adventures of Cup's Club, especially if it means us getting back to reality safe and sound." "Okay," Coabler said. "Millicent, as leader of Cup's Club, I do grant you honorary membership. Now all of you, forward!" "I'm really here," Millicent muttered, falling into step. "I can't believe it." "We can't either," Daptin said wearily. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 1: GOODBYE POPCORN CHAPTER 12 SR-012 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 27 sr27 01.6.2.4--Daptin's Land -------------------------- ============================== Daptin glared at the crowd he was trudging forward with. Thirteen people walking--one hovering in midair. He felt contempt for the others--to him, it seemed they were strolling happily, blindly into utter disaster. A horrible feeling of suspended panic was a heavy weight on Daptin's spirit. The green sky--the kemig call--all wrong. The group was now ambling along a relatively clear area, and it had been several hours since Millicent had appeared out of nowhere. It almost seemed that they were approaching the outer perimeter of the slay balloon blast. An awfully powerful weapon, those balloons, Daptin thought. The size of the group made Daptin nervous. He felt that he was leading them all to slaughter or something, that as soon as the coffee in his veins kicked in and transported them back toward the Cup, something terrible would happen. And he didn't like the feeling of responsibility. He thought back to Fox and The Tracy Taciturn and that lost day--something had gone wrong then, too. There seemed to be a lot of things going wrong in the universe. What a fighting force this gang would be, Daptin mused. Cup's Club with it's ultrapowerful members. Coabler the Sawman, Classic of Logic, Kesh the Vector, Pattern Integrity, Bith the Silly Train, Demolish All, and the one they told him about--the one who had been transformed into a little plastic toy version of himself--Tickle the Monster. Daptin did like the sense of otherness he got from these folks. They truly did seem to be from far-off, whacked-out worlds--unlike the unsettling sense of familiarity he always got in Agoopish and Aconck. And there was Granticaine and his Provocation Team D--three awfully nice, but also awfully weird people. Iterator of Rail Avenue, Pantry Lurkin, and Wreckage Mallie. Mallie was especially strange--Injure Bodoni had been doing some weird experiment at Greatwall, and he called Granticaine over and asked him if there was anybody he'd like to bring back to life. It was supposed to power some sort of situation field, but instead Mallie--who had been killed in Grant's war--came into being. Bodoni had juryrigged the system and of course, just like him, couldn't reproduce the effect. Daptin was sure it still bothered the scientist. And Daptin thought back to the Caxopys--that goddamn Cursive and her smirking sister Elaine--sending them on this suicide mission or whatever it was meant to be. Fake was such a nice girl, and she so loved the excitement of Agoopish. Now he wondered if they'd ever get back there, let alone anywhere coherent. And the still-unconscious Jerald from Fiestarkoon. Daptin never trusted the guy, and was even a little disappointed to find out he was still alive. He was sure the little jerk knew more than he was letting on. He had to. Then there was Millicent--appearing out of nowhere, claiming she had just succeeded in "stepping into the movie"--a "Cup's Club" movie, from what she told them. Daptin looked at the girl and felt like crying when he regarded her innocence, her freshness. He stared at her and felt very low, very heavy, as if he were responsible for crushing this beautiful person's most cherished dreams. As he continued to stare at Millicent, she slowed down a little, and looked around nervously. Daptin thought it was her detecting his glare, but then she looked down and pulled her hand out of her pocket. There was something in it. "What's this?" Millicent said, examining the thing. Daptin knew it was something important. He could feel it. It's importance was like a knife stabbing at him. And he moved toward Millicent to get a better look. "This isn't mine," Millicent said slowly, softly. And Daptin saw what she was holding--it was a little plastic doll. "Okay," Daptin said, and Millicent turned to face him. "Look at it!" she said. "I never put it in there! Things are getting stranger and stranger." The others all turned toward Daptin and Millicent, and the group quickly halted. "Let me see," Daptin said, holding his hand out. Millicent gingerly gave him the doll. And Daptin looked at it. It was a doll of a young woman with long brown hair. He knew immediately that it was Tavmatey Numblem. But this wasn't what gave Daptin such a wrenching feeling in his gut. The doll had a T-shirt on, a T-shirt with a face on it. And he recognized the face. It was the waitress he and Granticaine had met at the Hello Tarby. It was Sleap. It was her face. Her smiling face. Granticaine came over to Daptin. "What is it?" he asked. Daptin showed him the doll. "Huh. That's strange. Not another of your party, is it Coabler?" Grant said. "We're all accounted for," Coabler said. "Maybe Millicent here had a friend?" "No, I was alone," Millicent said, biting her lip. "Recognize her?" Daptin said. "The one on the shirt." Granticaine stared intently. "Yes! Yes I do! Who could forget that hairdo. It's that waitress from the Tarby restaurant. Yes. But why?" Daptin coughed. "That's what I want to figure out," Daptin said. "Something about this feels so... I don't know. I feel like I'm on the verge of realizing something." "Hey we should keep moving!" Fake said. "I don't want to get left behind here!" "Okay," Daptin said, and the group continued forward. And Daptin began to get light-headed. "People--keep moving. I think it may be coming," Daptin said, holding his hand to his head. "We're ready," Kesh said distantly. They continued for a few moments, and then Granticaine put his hand on Daptin's back. "Daptin--I have a confession. Back at that restaurant, that girl left a note for you," Granticaine said, taking his hand off Daptin's back and pulling the little business card from his sleeve, "And I kept it. At the time, I didn't fully trust you--and afterward, I just forgot about it." Daptin had a very confused and upset look on his face as he took the business card from Granticaine and read it. It read 'Greenie--every Faprintarb, Copanck Center Basement NE, occult meeting--try it! Hope I see ya there--Sleap Drassy.' Daptin's head was swimming. "Something's not right. It's happening," Daptin said, and he felt a chill and a surge of electricity all through his body. The image of the doll and the business card in his hands in front of him began receding. "Everyone--I'm sorry if this doesn't work. Please believe me," Daptin said. But already, he knew that it wasn't going to work. He felt himself--and all the rest of his cohorts--getting sucked faster and faster into a vacuum--into an empty space--into true nothingness. There were no weird images, no loss of consciousness, nothing like their previous cupslips. Then things happened very quickly, in the blink of an eye. Daptin could sense the others around him, and he was painfully aware of the acceleration of their flushing down the drain toward oblivion. He knew in an instant they would all cease to exist. He knew there wouldn't be any cute saves by ultrapowerful friends, no world of nothingness they could escape from. He knew they would be completely and utterly obliterated. There was the power of the Cup and the power of whatever the kemig call had caused. And in-between these two powers was a place where no one reigned. They were headed for a total, irretrievably anonymous demise. So Daptin struck out. He struck out into the gaping, horrifying void and felt a wellspring of resource fill him. Time didn't matter anymore, all this was happening in a single instant. He struck out, images of his wonderful flight with The Tracy Taciturn down Canyon filling his mind. Yes--it was this sort of power and substance filling him. Primal. He struck out, and in wild release, Created. And in that single act, Daptin felt something more good than anything he had ever imagined. And he knew that things would never be the same, knowing that feeling. He Created, and Thirteen people stood at the threshold of a new Land. They stood at the gate, the first opening, and they saw. And none of them believed what they saw. For it was a thing that all of them had harbored deep in their spirits, something glimpsed briefly only a few times in a lifetime, something you could maybe see a tiny glimmer of in one of those perfect days of youth. But here--here it just bluntly hit them all straight in the face. It was everywhere. It was unbelievable. It was Creation. And they saw Daptin in the distance, on a hilltop, arms raised. This was his doing--it all pointed to him. This was wonderful. This was impossible. This was Daptin's Land. Many of them wanted to speak, but they knew they couldn't. Daptin would speak the first words here. That was the way it had to be. And eventually, after what might have been a minute or a century, Daptin turned to the group and smiled. "This is my Land," he said. "And you were all here to witness its Creation. Welcome." They all smiled. Daptin approached each one of them in turn, clasping hands with them and smiling. When he got to Fake, she spoke. "I hope this doesn't make you think you're God or anything," she said, smiling. "I'm still the same old Daptin you knew," he said, then his expression turned more serious. "At least, part of me is." "This is the first time I've ever felt truly real," Bith said as Daptin clasped his massive hands. "Thank you." Daptin smiled and moved on to Coabler. "I've been to one of these before," the sawman said with a knowing glance. "Yours was better." Daptin let out a short laugh. "Thanks." The Creator greeted all thirteen individuals, except for Jerald, who was still unconscious. Daptin was happy the little creep had missed his Wonderful act of Creation--it served him right! And Daptin liked the fact that he could still feel such petty feelings. He didn't want to lose his humanity, and he knew he wouldn't, but his current state of consciousness seemed to dwarf the human in him. Indeed, he could feel and sense, see and hear, smell and taste every nook and cranny of the world he had just Created. And a wonderful place it was. He was even then finalizing the arrangements of everything--and he found it invigorating that he had such a canvas to work on. And it felt so natural--it was effortless--and he wasn't designing things either, he was just sort of directing the way they flowed. He made the area directly around them into a green, hilly paradise, with waterfalls, flowers, streams, lawns, fruit, and all the rest. And in the center of it all, he made a structure, a lovely house, including rooms that would always belong to each of the thirteen--even one for Jerald. And then Daptin became aware of the two trapped in little plastic toy bodies, and he brought them forth and gave them life again and gave them rooms. "Whoah!" Demolish All said as Tickle the Monster and Tavmatey Numblem came into being. "So I made it through after all!" Tavmatey said. Then she looked around. "I guess." Tickle bounded around like a monkey, and was drinking in the first sips of the sensory overload around him. His primitive mind was just beginning to grasp the situation. Daptin approached Tavmatey. "Tavmatey Numblem, I presume?" he said. "Yes," she said shyly, smiling a sly smile and looking up at Daptin with awfully bright eyes. Her voice was hoarse, but adorable. "Tell me about Sleap Drassy," Daptin said. He already knew, but he wanted to hear it from her. "What did you want to know about her?" Tavmatey said in a childish, flirting, impatient manner, her hands clasped behind her back. "Well," Daptin said, taking a step closer. "Out of all the things about Sleap, would you say there's one thing which stands out more than the others?" "You Created this world?" Tavmatey asked, a skeptical look on her face. "Of course," Daptin said. "Well, Sleap makes your powers look like a weak effort, man. She's the one that got the Cup of Coffee--from a place you couldn't even understand." Kesh the Vector turned toward Daptin and Tavmatey. "She invited me to a meeting," Daptin said. "I think I should go and talk to her." "That sounds good," Tavmatey said. "Maybe she can give you some pointers. And for goodness sake, take me with you. I'm dying to get back together with her." "I now see what you meant about knowing me," Daptin said. "A little offshoot in my lifeworld. I remember it now." Tavmatey smiled and twisted back and forth in joy. "I get it," Daptin said. "Your precious Sleap got that Cup for me, didn't she? So I could do this?" "Mmmmmaybe," Tavmatey said. "Because I have something that she hasn't got." "Uh... mmmmmaybe." "Because I was there." "Uh-huh." "I was there at the First Creation." "Bingo." "And she wants something from me--in exchange for this gift." "Yes." "But you don't know what that is." "Uh-uh." Daptin turned around and rubbed his chin. His near omniscience only extended throughout his own Land, and no further. "Wait a minute. I'm getting all this information from you--and you're just one of Sleap's playthings." Tavmatey raised her eyebrows. "She didn't plan this--she saw it coming, and planted you so you'd wind up here," Daptin continued. "Cursive and Elaine--are they her playthings too?" "I dunno." "No--there's something else going on. I'm getting this all wrong. Well, thanks for ruining the single most glorious achievement of my life! I create my own Land and because of you I'm wasting my time trying to second guess some super-hyper-ultra-mega-kazillion-powerful entity." "She is that, isn't she?" "She's nothing," Daptin said. "Her sphere of activity is a sublevel, even if it does reach such grand depths, relatively. Just like my friend Obfuser." Tavmatey narrowed her eyes and became more serious. "Your view of things is clouded by the First Creation. How do you know she isn't operating in That Which Came Before?" "That is what's driving her crazy!" Daptin said. "No matter how deep she gets, she can never get past the First Creation! She cannot penetrate That Which Came Before!" "Says you." "Haha! I knew it!" Tavmatey turned away. "Your thinking is even more clouded by the abundance of youness all around you," she said. "This is your Land. Whatever you want to believe has to be true." Daptin started to take a step toward Tavmatey, then decided not to. "Daptin," Granticaine said, sitting on the grass, "I don't want to spoil things, but where exactly is this Land you've created? Can you bridge from here? Indeed, can we get back to our Earths at all?" "Yes, Grant," Daptin said, turning away from Tavmatey. "Sort of. I mean, the Cup wanted to send me home, to Arctica. And it tried, but Arctica wasn't there in the form it should have been, so instead of going home, we were headed for nowhere--and I do mean nowhere." Granticaine raised his eyebrows as Daptin continued. "I have made a bridge--not the Aconck kind, but a real kind of bridge, which will lead to Arctica--when and if it ever comes back." "What do you mean, 'come back'?" Granticaine asked. "Where could it have gone to?" Daptin sighed. "When Mallie got that call, that's what did it. Communication between Aconck and where we were broke all kinds of laws of reality, and the whole thing just went haywire. At least, that's my best guess. I got a glimpse of my home town for the briefest of instants when I Created--and I got that impression." "So," Granticaine said, also sighing, "how do we know that Aconck will ever come back--recover from this disaster?" "We don't," Daptin said. "But I have a feeling someone out there has the capacity to do it. Remember--Bavler Bestroystraw was careful to address the issue of stability in his equations. And he does refer to recoverable crashes in his works." Granticaine nodded. "Well, I just hope that whoever that someone is who can reboot Aconck, they're hard at work making it happen," Grant said. Daptin noticed that Demolish All was looking very unhappy. "What's the matter, Demolish All?" Daptin asked. She smiled in a tense way. "Well, Daptin Gone. I don't want to annoy you, but I'm just..." "You want to do some destruction," Daptin said. "Yes, and it's just... your Land is so pristine and so new... all this anti-damage is draining me." "Well, my dear Demolish, how 'bout I create a sprawling cityscape for you to blast to your heart's content?" Daptin said. Demolish All perked up and smiled brightly. "Do you really mean it? Oh, I would so love it!" "You got it," Daptin said. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 1: GOODBYE POPCORN CHAPTER 13 SR-013 ============================== 01.7--Zincler ============================== Later... It was the first new morning in Daptin's Land. Everyone had retired to their quarters in Daptin's House, and were just now waking. Granticaine had awoken early and had gone down to the kitchen, to find Daptin sitting at a table, his head in his hands. "Good morning," Granticaine said, and Daptin quickly looked up. "Good morning Grant." "I saw some things in the sky last night--still working some of the details out?" Daptin sighed. "Yeah. It's tough for me to keep things straight. So many big decisions to make. The length of the day and the night, seasons, the edges of the world, the stuff in the sky, like you said, and everything else. Like they say, the devil is in the details. Not that there's a devil here. Yet." "What do you mean--a force of evil to oppose you, as is seen in so many stories of creation and the times that follow?" "Well," Daptin said, chuckling a little, "the thing is, I had to make that very decision--what sort of opposing forces I wanted in my world, to provide the tension, the energy, to keep things from getting old. Thing is, I'm still working on it. There are a lot of options. I never imagined." Granticaine approached the table and sat down across from Daptin, who was scratching his left ear. The Creator looked tired, worn out. And he needed a shave. "You know that I went to the bridge last night?" Granticaine said. "Yes." "And I tried to cross it." "Yes, I know. I felt that happen." "And you know what I found at the other end?" Daptin looked Granticaine directly in the eyes and licked his lips. "Yes," he said, in a disgusted tone. They sat in silence, the wonderful light of Daptin's Sun streaming into the room, the primal fragrance of Creation in the air. "What does it all mean?" the warrior asked. Daptin looked away. "It's supposed to lead to my parent's backyard in Arctica. But that location is unavailable. All that was there--all that's out there anywhere, is the vista you saw from the balcony at the end of the bridge. The dark vista of Aconck--of what's become of it." "I stood and stared, Daptin--my eyes wide open--I stood there for several hours--and yet my mind could only assimilate a tiny fraction of the view." "Yeah. I guess that's the way it will be. I don't know exactly what it is out there. But my bridge connects to a place where you can see all of the universe as we know it--maybe as I know it--it looks like all of known Aconck, and Agoopish and the Avert Cities as well. And some other places. The universe of Daptin Gone--in all it's ruined glory." Granticaine nodded and looked around. "At least it's still out there." "Yeah," Daptin said getting up and moving over to a counter. "But I'm so wrapped up in this Creation, I can't really devote all that much brainpower to the issue." Daptin worked the espresso machine he had created and made a cup for himself. "Espresso?" he asked. "Why yes," Granticaine responded. "I'm anxious to see what your conception of perfect espresso is." Daptin laughed a little and made a cup for Granticaine, then returned to the table with both cups. Granticaine took his and looked into it. "So what's become of the Cup of Coffee?" "I don't know. The part of it that was inside me merged back with the Cup. The funny thing is, that instead of wanting to bring me--us--back to where the Cup was, it tried to send me home. But it wasn't there. So the force of the Cup sent us toward my home--and then brought its pattern integrity whole again. But where is it? I don't know. I guess it's still back at my apartment in Greatwall. Or what's left of it." "Huh." Daptin started scratching at his ear again, and took a sip of the espresso. Granticaine tried his, too. "Wow!" Granticaine said, nodding. "Rather phenomenal! One of the fringe benefits of Creating your own world, I guess--really good coffee!" Granticaine laughed and Daptin took a sip of espresso, but he stopped in mid-sip and also stopped scratching his ear, staring blankly. Granticaine frowned. "Is everything okay?" "No," Daptin said, putting the cup down and standing up. "No--everything is not okay. I knew I felt something--but now--yes." He put his hand near his ear and seemed to be concentrating intensely. "Yes..." he continued. "Very clever. Very sneaky." Granticaine stood up. "What is it, man?" Daptin held his right hand out and said "Just hold on." Daptin then jerked his head a couple of times as he moved his hand into various positions near his left ear. Then all of a sudden, a multicolored sparkling ignited around the vicinity of his ear. "I got it," Daptin said, his voice sounding strange. He slowly moved his hand away from his head, and the area of sparkle, about the size of a baseball, remained midpoint between hand and ear. Daptin winced a few times, then nodded. "Okay, but how many?" he said, his voice sounding distorted. Granticaine began to speak, but stopped himself. Slowly, Daptin reached over to the sparkling area with his right hand, and with great concentration, still looking forward, grasped something between his thumb and index finger. "Got it," he said, smiling at Granticaine. "What?" Granticaine asked, bewildered. Carefully, Daptin placed the thing he held on the outstretched palm of his left hand, and showed it to Granticaine. It was a tiny gold-colored speck. "Uh," Granticaine said. "What might that be?" "You'll be amazed when you find out, which I think should be just about--NOW." Granticaine saw some movement from the other side of the kitchen--a doorway-shaped area in the middle of the floor, and the interior of some kind of cockpit could be seen through it. A tall woman was standing in the doorway, with lovely medium-length reddish-brown hair, wearing a revealing brown and white dress. Granticaine squinted and saw a tiny woman floating next to her. "Daptin?" Granticaine said worriedly. "It's okay Grant," Daptin said, then turned to face the doorway. "Spanking New Sarah and Pine Run Glara. What a pleasure to see you here. Welcome to my Land." "Thanks," Spanking New Sarah (the regular sized one) said with a smile, stepping through the doorway and into the kitchen. Pine Run Glara floated out behind her. "I guess you want an explanation?" Sarah said as she approached the table. Pine Run Glara flew over and alighted on the table, right in front of Granticaine. He regarded her. She was under a foot tall, wearing worn-out blue jeans, a green-and-black-striped T-shirt, and white sneakers. Granticaine gave Daptin an inquisitive look. "Ladies, this is Granticaine Chug Perion. But I'm sure you already know that. Grant, these are some of the goddesses I told you about--Spanking New Sarah and Pine Run Glara, to be exact. And I think it's just you two." "Just us," Glara said, her voice small, but not as small as it would seem it should be. "Sit," Daptin said to Sarah, who accepted and sat down at the table. "And try that explanation on me." "Okay," Sarah said. "But first, just let me..." She turned and pointed a penlike object and the doorway, which promptly vanished. "Don't want to waste too much energy," she said, turning back to Daptin. "So--the explanation. Well, basically, we've been in that zincler ever since you left the Caxopys for your mission. And yes, we saw and heard everything. Quite a harrowing journey." Daptin frowned. "So you were physically inside this thing, like totally miniaturized?" "Yup," Sarah said. "And you enter and exit the thing via a size-changing dimensional doorway of some sort?" Daptin asked. "Something like that," Sarah said. Daptin nodded in thought, looking at Pine Run Glara. "So you two saw everything--what did it do--tap into my aural and visual nerves?" Glara nodded. "And when did you implant the thing?" Daptin said, looking at Sarah. "When do you think?" she said with a look. Daptin nodded. "Fair enough. But why?" "I had a bad feeling about your future," Sarah said. "I just knew your mission wasn't going to go right. And believe it or not--I think I'm in love with you. So I wanted to tag along to help you when you got into trouble. Glara came to keep me company. Everything went kind of haywire after that first Cup thing, you know, at Boltpike, and the door didn't work any more. We thought we'd be stuck inside you forever. Then when you ate the popcorn, well--after we woke up, all our instruments died and by the time we got them back online, you were in that other universe meeting this guy." Sarah nodded her head toward Granticaine. "Uh-huh," Daptin said. "So you don't know what happened between the popcorn and my meeting with Grant at Greatwall?" "No," Glara said. "So what happened?" Daptin smiled and chuckled a little. "Let me have some secrets from you, little one." Glara made a grimace at Daptin, but then smiled. "I guess that's fair." "So Sarah--now you know all about Aconck, eh?" Daptin said. "What do you think?" "Pretty mind-blowing. It's a big universe out there." "Yeah," Daptin said. "May I see that?" Granticaine said, nodding toward the zincler. "Sure," Daptin said, extending his hand. Granticaine carefully grasped the tiny speck and placed it in his palm. "Remarkable!" he said. "A fantastically useful device!" "Sure is," Glara said, looking up at Granticaine. "Where did you get it?" Granticaine asked. "Oh, the usual places. They say folks used to use them to store their harems INSIDE of themselves, so that whenever they felt like a little, you know, WHING," Glara said with a pelvic thrust, "they could bring out the one they felt like having fun with at the moment." "Also good for bodyguards," Sarah said. "I would say so!" Granticaine said. "May I have it back?" Sarah said, looking from Granticaine to Daptin. "Why not," Daptin said. "Is it rare?" "Yeah," Glara said. "Not too many left." "Huh," Granticaine said, nodding. "So girls," Daptin said, "I assume you witnessed the Creation--so there will be rooms for you in my House forevermore. As you've probably figured out, there's something wrong with the rest of totality right now, including Agoopish. So you'll have to make due here for now. And don't go implanting that thing on anyone!" "Of course not!" Sarah said, carefully placing the zincler back into a little ornate carrying case. "And thank you for not getting mad. What I told you is the truth. And the way things look--we managed to be the only survivors of Supbam." "Agoopish may come back, just like everything else--but for now, yeah--you're it," Daptin said. "Thank you King Daptin," Sarah said with a twinkle in her eyes. "And when you're looking for a Queen, please consider me." "I'll do that," Daptin said. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 1: GOODBYE POPCORN CUPLINE'S END ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 2: OFFICE COMPLEX 13 Chapters--SR-014 thru SR-026 ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 2: OFFICE COMPLEX CHAPTER 1 SR-014 ============================== -------------------------- 02.1--Quality Scout -------------------------- ============================== A magnificent feat of engineering that, pulling ocean liners up into the middle of Derolbam City. I wonder what sort of rogue inspiration hit its originator, and how he could justify the overwhelming cost of the project to the builders. But it was built, and it was a popular thing. "I'm going down to the boat later, if you wanna come," Yester said to me and Injure. "Um, that's not a bad idea, but I gotta set some stuff up, y'know," Injure said. "And I have a meeting," I said. "But if you wanna wait till it's over, I'd be glad to go with ya. I've been meaning to go." In this skyscraper we were doing our job. I'm Daptin Gone, a Quality Scout for OA, Overwhelm Associates. Based in this building is an outpost of ours. And what I do along with my navigator Injure Bodoni and secretary Yestersay Polay is go around to all these outposts and keeps tabs on what's happening, up close and personal. This involves personal interviews with all the major staffmembers, as well as accompanying teams on patrol. This was Timber Serious Earth, three Earths from the OA Greatwall Base on Mate Pavement Earth, and a bitch of a trip, since Bavler Bestroystraw's Aconck Group contains the first of the three Earths. So in any case, my official meeting and interview with Il Zillionthi, head of the Derolbam Team, was scheduled for half an hour from then. Zillionthi was formerly a professor at Shirt University, and was a good friend of Bestroystraw at Thatterine College, and when Bestroystraw discovered Aconck, he offered Zillionthi the opportunity to join The Aconck Group, which he accepted. But when Letevs Fife split from TAG, and formed Overwhelm Associates, Zillionthi went with Fife. For a time, Zillionthi was involved in central administration, but he felt that he was tired of being around all the Red Alley Earth folks, and asked to move and head a new outpost. With several available, he chose Derolbam City for its metropolitan flair. Zillionthi rented a whole floor in a brand new office skyscraper, with a magnificent view of the in-city-dock. The outpost had been in operation for eight months, and this was our first Quality Scout visit. From the looks of things, I would have nothing untoward to report to Fife--they had done the place up with real class, looking like the best of modern offices. They fronted themselves as computer consultants, to cover for all the esoteric equipment. The outposts have the main function of monitoring bridging into and out of their Earths, and investigate if someone doesn't leave soon after they enter. Basically, the way it works is that with the OA machinery, they can pinpoint locations of bridging, and interpolate the number of persons and nature of cargo at both beginbridge and endbridge, thus knowing which way the bridge took the crossers. Since it is possible to build a bridge just about anywhere, it is impossible to intercept all rival bridging activity. But if the crossers don't leave, it is possible to pinpoint their location and deal with them. This is something we had to deal with when crossing over the TAG Er (short for "Earth") on our way here--we knew they kept an outpost there, and that we had a limited time before we'd be intercepted. This is especially hazardous when one has to travel a long distance overland to get to the desired interface locale. So the usual strategy, as in our case, is to travel on the OA Earth to an equiv point as near the border between interface territories on the rival Earth. In this way, usually a mile or less is required to get to the opposite territory and bridge out. This does make it difficult to crossover two or more rival Earths, especially if the territories are illogistically arranged. And also, one has to vary the in-out points, because if the same location is used over and over again, a surveillance team will surely set up there. Right now, there are only three groups which hold Earths in this way, the two mentioned previously, and also The Unreal 64, headed by Polk Thewsike. But I reckon that the split that occurred in TAG is bound to happen again in one, two, or all of the Bridge Companies now in operation. Well, as it happened, today was a hectic one for Zillionthi, because the candidate the OA algorithm system had chosen for this Earth was just back from a trip across several Earths in order to prove the legitimate nature of bridging. This was to be his first detailed briefing leading up to his final decision as to whether or not to join. Personally, I feel that these candidates must by this point in their induction be pretty intimidated, and I wonder if they believe the idea that they can refuse and go about their business without repercussions. True, the offer is pretty much too good to turn down, but any reasonable person would see that OA is a rather secretive and militaristic association, and they must wonder how it feels about outsiders knowing about its inner workings. So when I went over to Zillionthi's office, he was just coming out with the candidate, Ledrant Hate, and he proposed that I should brief Hate on Aconck since I was much better traveled than he. I agreed, and he went out for an important lunch date, saying he'd be back in a few hours for the main meeting, and it "couldn't be helped". Great. I went into his office and sat down with Hate. He was a short fellow, about five and a half feet tall, naive looking, thin, and with short blond hair. Plagued by monsters as a child, some of the monsters' aspects seemed to have rubbed off on him. The extent and nature of his abilities were not fully understood yet, but he seemed to be very jaded and tenuous on the inside, though his mild exterior wouldn't show it. He didn't seem as amazed with Aconck as some of the other new recruits I had met with in the past. "Well, I guess, well why don't I sit over here next to his desk and you can sit on that couch over there," I said. "Sure." We sat, and I took a notepad out of my briefcase and held it in my lap, pen in hand. "I suppose introductions are in order. I'm Daptin Gone, um, and I'm an OA Quality Scout. Right now, I'm here in Derolbam assessing Zillionthi's operation." "I'm Ledrant Hate, and I guess you know that I'm about to be joining this, uh, group." "Yes indeed. Now I may take some notes, but they're more about your experience with the folks here rather than about you. It's my duty to really get into the working of these outposts, y'see. So don't feel nervous. I have nothing to do with your recruitment," I said. "You travel to all the different bases on the different worlds?" Hate asked. "Well, I've not been to them all, and there're more being established every few weeks. I'm one of perhaps half a dozen OA quality scouts currently operating. Our function is to keep Greatwall up to date on what's happening throughout the association." "Hmmm." "So you were just on an excursion?" I asked. "Yeah. They took me to this weird alternate world. Man, the people were pretty weird over there. I was shocked when we first arrived. I sort of thought the whole thing was a rip-off. Y'know, a mind fuck." I nodded. "I think that's how a lot of people react at first. But it's all too real, I'm afraid." "Hmm. So what world are you from?" "Well, I'm from The Alley, Red Alley Earth, which is where this whole mess started. Most of the higher-ups in OA are from The Alley. Zillionthi was a professor at the college my sister went to before he entered Aconck." "And the others here, they're from all different worlds?" "The major operatives, y'know, the Primates, are all from other worlds. I guess you've been briefed on the OA algorithmic system of selecting Primates," I said. "Yeah, they told me something about it," Hate said. "They said that my experience with the monsters was what got me here." "That's a part of it I'm sure. But the exact nature of the criteria used are known only to our fearless leader Letevs Fife and a few of his close associates. They're looking for people with a wide variety of qualities, not the least of which is combat potential, to be perfectly honest with you." "Yeah, they kind of alluded to that. Is that why they chose you?" "Naw. I'm not a real natural warrior. And I'm not a Primate. Basically, I was publishing a magazine that Fife and some others liked, uh... It was called 'Unknowable Pivot', and when it went out of business they contacted me and offered me a job. I had known a few of the OA members vaguely while in college. I went to the same college where Aconck was discovered fourteen years ago by Bavler Bestroystraw." "How long have you been in the OA?" "Well, going on three years now. But as they say, time flies when you're having fun." "Yeah. But I tell you, I'm still leery at this whole thing. I mean, I'm convinced that there's some heavy paranormal stuff going on here, but how can I be sure that Zillionthi's, and your, explanation of things is real? I mean, I'm not calling you a liar or anything, but how are you sure, for example, that all this is true?" "Well, I can understand your apprehension," I said, playing with a little mobile thing on Zillionthi's desk. "And all I can tell you is that from what I've seen, the nature of Aconck is as it's been described to you. If you're asking me whether or not higher powers are involved, and who you might be pledging allegiance to, I don't know. But to me, it all seems to be on the level. But I hope Zillionthi is being honest and telling you of the pretty hot cold war we have going with Bavler's Aconck Group and Polk Thewsike's Unreal 64. I mean, as we've been colonizing Earths, if you will, the conflicts have really been heating up, and a lot of the time it does manifest in close-quarter combat. So I mean, I don't even know if I should be telling you this, but you will most likely be involved in combat at some point." "Well, I haven't really been fully briefed yet, but Il Zillionthi did allude to an ongoing conflict, and stressed that OA was the only of the three groups with the good of Aconck as their major goal." "Ledrant, y'know I think that's not entirely accurate. The U-64 is definitely out of control and not very concerned about the stability of Aconck, but TAG is more stable and neutral than OA by anyone's accounting. And this is not a secret, I mean, Fife encourages total honesty in Overwhelm Associates. But I don't want to put words into Zillionthi's mouth, nor brand him a zealot. All I'm saying is that all three groups are trying to attain supremacy, and that the conflict is going nowhere but hotter and hotter." "Well Mr. Gone, I'm not all that concerned about combat. I mean, I'm up for it and all, it's just that I'm not sure what sort of combat it is. Is it guns and shields, swords and oil, psychic conflict, what?" "Well, basically combat occurs when a group bridges into a rival Earth and is met by rival forces. So it's mostly two small groups fighting, using a wide variety of weapons and techniques. Not much psychic stuff, but some. But in this regard, in combat, we're quickly becoming the clear superiors, as our combatants have such a wide range of attacks and defenses. You, for example. I hear you have a lot of tricks up your sleeve." "Yeah. I guess. It's weird, 'cause I've been living in isolation for a long time now, trying to cope with myself, to resolve things within myself. But now it seems that I've spent all this time resolving something which is now just being spun out of whack again. I mean, all of my peculiarities, and identification with monsters, now seems to be eminently utile. So I feel sort of numb in that." "Well," I said, "even though there are always drawbacks, I think that OA is a great opportunity for you. I mean, no matter how much relativism you employ, this sort of existence just blows the conventional away. But leave all idealism at the door, since in Aconck the ugly side of humanity comes into all the sharper of focus. But hey, who knows what direction Aconck will take? I mean, the major watermark is that Aconck doesn't impact the average dweller on any Earth yet. We're still operating undercover, all over. And I hope this continues, but I'm not so sure. And the split in TAG which resulted in OA and U-64 may well occur again in any or all of the three, meaning more and more Bridge Groups, meaning more of an opportunity for extremism." "Hmmm. Well, it sounds like the place for me, since I'm just full of conflict and contradiction myself," Hate said. "Well, what have ya got to lose?" I said. "You're free to leave whenever you want." "Will I be taught how to bridge?" "Um, well that depends on how Greatwall assesses your abilities and aptitudes. To tell you the truth, they've been promising to teach me for a long time, but I'm so busy all the time it just sort of never seems to happen. Injure... That is, my navigator Injure Bodoni tries to explain what he's doing, but without a few months of immersion in Bestroystrawn Theory, not much of it makes sense. But I'm not complaining. I mean, I understand the upshot of it all, but the actual practice of bridging involves a lot of substantive illogic-lasso and reality-address tunings. But everyone in OA is welcome to learn how to bridge." "Hmm," Hate said. "So I guess I should start briefing you in earnest. So let's see. Where should I begin. I guess I'll go back to the birth of Aconck." "Now, Aconck is..." "Aconck is the interconnected set of Earths accessible by bridges and centered on Red Alley Earth, or The Alley. That's where, as I said, about 14 years ago a professor at The Dark of College by the name of Bavler Bestroystraw discovered the practice of bridging after spending much of his life researching centuries-old obscuria. It seems that bridging was in practice many centuries ago, but all records of it suddenly stopped about 450 years ago. And the thing is, according to Bavler himself, the Aconck Earths beside the Alley have no such history of bridging in their past, leading him to conclude that the basic bridging formula he developed was of a different frequency than the Sweptim one, Sweptim being that previous Earth interconnection." "But now Bavler is our enemy?" "Well, not so much enemy, but definitely a rival. I mean, his efforts to claim Earths and ours often come into conflict. I can't say that I have anything personally against the guy. I never really met him, but I had seen him on the campus from time to time, and he was often referred to in my classes on the Mysterious." "So y'know, can you sort of tell me, give me a rough idea, of just how the hell this bridging thing works?" "Well, as I said I'm no expert in the field, but basically, I can tell you this--in essence, a bridge is an area of space which one moves through, and upon exiting that space, one has basically a 50/50 chance of winding up on the opposite Earth to that terrain." "Huh?" "See, a bridger confuses an area of space into not being sure as to where it is, either where it really is or in the equivalent space on the opposite Earth. Because of this, when one is inside the space, it is unclear as to what Earth it is on the outside. So upon exiting, one or the other Earth becomes the one you're on. So if you don't transfer the first time, you can keep passing through the confused space until you get over." "What do you mean by opposite Earths? Are they like negative versions of each other?" "No. The terms is used the same as one might refer to opposite sides of a riverbank. There is nothing diametric in the comparisons between opposite Earths." "And every Earth has one opposite?" "Well no. If that were the case, then Aconck would be made up of only two Earths. The way it works is, that irregularly shaped areas of the surface of each Earth have different opposite Earths. So for example, when we bridge here in Derolbam, and in the surrounding areas, we'll always get to Tether Wraith Earth. But, according to Zillionthi's charts, if we go over to Marwock, for example, and bridge, we'd wind up on a whole nother Earth. So in this way, there's a complex webs of worlds, of which many are still to be discovered, since there are many hard to get to places on every Earth. And also, sometimes there's more than one way to get to one Earth, in some cases approaches are to be found on several different Earths." "How similar are all these worlds?" "Well," I said, "the weird thing is, y'know, I assumed that since all the worlds are so similar, that they all had a common past and each represented a certain branching of events. But as we've discovered, that's not really the case. For example, we've found certain rock bands, for example, occurring identically across various Earths, with identical or nearly identical discographies, but upon further investigation, it was found that their pasts leading up to their formation was often totally different. So it seems that the similarities are current-level, with pasts branching out, backwards." "That's pretty deep. I don't really understand it all yet. I mean, like, how do you just go up to space and confuse it? I mean, what the hell?" Hate said. "Well Ledrant, as I told you, I'm not entirely sure myself, but it does have to do with addressing reality in a certain way and employing certain tricks of illogic to create a local short circuit in a portion of reality, manifest in a three-dimensional area of space. But as to exactly how it works, I don't know. The terminology is this jargon that's meaningless unless you've studied Bestroystrawn theory extensively. You can ask Injure yourself, and he'll explain it all to you, but you'll wind up more confused than ever, as English is not really tailored to describe this sort of over-the-edge stuff." "English?" "Yeah--this language--English." "I never heard that word before, English." "Well, mostly in Aconck, English is called English, but I guess here on Timber you call it something else." "Well, this language is Apertalk as far as I'm concerned. But we're speaking the same words, so I guess the point is moot." "Yeah. But as I said, though things may be identical across Earths, such as this language, their histories, like the roots of words, for example, are likely very different." "Doesn't that suggest a time-specific element? I mean, if these things are current-level, then have the worlds been coexisting and things been coagulating towards the same end results, or are the Earths made, the opposite Earths, are they made at the moment of the first bridge?" "Well, that point has been hotly debated, but the latter seems to be, in general, the consensus view. I'm not saying that you and this whole Earth were just magically created the moment we first bridged over here. It's more, maybe, like we 'caught up' with you. I don't know. It's very confusing." "Hmm." "But beyond all that, you can't believe the sort of lifestyle you can have here. Like I said, it's not relative--Aconck is massively more interesting, enjoyable, and stimulating that any single Earth. I mean, the rush of entering a new Earth, being both alien and familiar--it's, like, awesome." "Yeah," Hate said. "I could see that. I just hope my decision doesn't blow up in my face." "Don't worry. All sorts of stuff is going on. And it's better to be in the loop than outside of it. You'll get into it, man. I'm telling ya." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 2: OFFICE COMPLEX CHAPTER 2 SR-015 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 18 sr18 02.0--Dolthethmen 1 -------------------------- ============================== Dolthethmen handed the cashier a five-dollar bill and a one-dollar bill. The cashier gave him two quarters and a nickel. Dolthethmen grabbed the coffee and the bag of nacho chips and the magazine and the gum and walked out of the store. He walked out of the store and into the phase of the fuzzy weekday afternoon. His car was gone. No, the car wasn't gone. He was mistaken. He'd parked at a shopping plaza across the highway. Now he had to cross the highway to get back to his car. He looked down at the crap he just bought. He looked across the highway where he could see part of his car from behind a cement partition in the parking lot. The traffic on the highway was getting heavy, and Dolthethmen reckoned that his adroitness would be dampened by the coffee and the chips and the gum and the magazine. So he opted not to cross the highway just yet. Looking to his left and then his right, Dolthethmen went right. Here on this highway, the parking lots of the stores, shopping plazas, gas stations, and movie theaters blended together. So you could walk along from lot to lot. But it was behind the stores and the plazas where it was cool. Because it's quiet back there, and remote, and abandoned--but someone or some car might appear at any time. Also, there were woods behind this highway's establishments. But Dolthethmen didn't feel like going behind the stores. He wanted to walk down the highway and maybe get to an arcade to play pinball or get to a movie theater to go and see a movie. It was as this walk was in progress that Dolthethmen thought these things: Here is reality. Right now it seems to me that I am walking down the highway. This is a fact, that to me right now I seem to be walking down a highway. That such a fact can exist is heartening. For so much of life is unexplained, and there are so few facts. It is hard to understand what is really going on. But in the scope of what I understand to be going on, there are things which are plain, such as the idea of cars. As I understand it, cars are devices built by people, used to go from place to place. But other things in life, such as the progressions of situations, are not so understandable. But, like cars, these unclear phenomena are observable. So through reasoning, some possible explanation can be reached. And, though this explanation may be invalid, if it is a possible explanation, it can serve as the first level of basis in further examination. In this way, at least as a sketchy proposal, reality can begin to be understood. This is the season of my great discontent. I am not responsible for my situation, for in some way I've been thrust into this place and situation. Will 1994 turn to 1936? That's not a good, normal thought. So it was a few nights ago, a stark chilly night under the crisp stars where I waited for that girl but she never showed up. I thought we would go into my car and I'd turn the key but not turn on the engine, so I could turn on the heater and maybe some music so we could make out. But probably we wouldn't have made out. I've not been having much luck with girls lately. But walking down this highway, pretty girls must be passing in cars. Just think--why is a girl driving a car sexier than a girl riding in a car? Well, I guess driving is more aggressive and sexy than riding. Sexual stereotypes really do play a big role in sexual fantasy or desire or whatever. It's almost like, any deviation or variation from the norm of behavior is sexy. No, that's not quite right. Not all behavior--just some. What day is it today? Dolthethmen kept walking down the highway. Up in the next parking lot, by a big video store, he saw a bunch of people standing around, clustered around something. He quickened his pace and got to where they were. These people were watching two young guys fight. They were all bloody, and continued belting one another. A really nasty fight. "What's going on here?" Dolthethmen asked a girl watching the altercation. "Dunno. These two guys just started fighting a minute ago, so we're watching." "Shouldn't someone call the police or something?" "Yeah." Pause. "So has anybody called?" Dolthethmen asked. "I dunno." "Should I go and call?" "No." "Why not?" "Cuz it's fun watching them fight. It really pumps me up, gets me hot, to see two guys fight. I love to see animal rage spill forth onto this dull highway. Primal energies contrast well with the staid hum of the atmosphere of the video stores and arcades. Here, any rage or honest madness is welcome. I see that you are full of that rage, and yet you hold it inside so well. You would never fight as these two do, for you fear the release of your energies upon this world, for it would forfeit your unique position, were you to reveal your true self." Dolthethmen was stunned by this girl's words. What she said jibed with quiet thoughts he had been having. That another, especially a desirable female, would even talk to him, let alone say revelatory, almost psychic things, excited him. He responded to her. "How do you know things about me, dear?" "I have to go." With this the girl was off, striding swiftly towards the video store. In the blink of an eye she was in the video store. Dolthethmen turned around and saw that a few more guys had entered the fight, themselves getting bloodied also. But he dismissed the fighters and walked quickly toward the entrance of the video store. As Dolthethmen neared the door, however, he was overcome by resign, and gave up trying to seek this girl. He thought, there's no way I'll catch up with her, and even if I do, nothing will happen between us. I could ask her how she knew stuff about me, but probably she was just speaking metaphorically. Probably, she's just weird. So I must give up and continue on to play pinball or see a movie. Turning, Dolthethmen saw that there were six or eight people now involved in the fight, but he just figured it would end soon, and continued to walk down the highway. He hadn't walked ten feet, however, when he felt someone roughly grab the back of his neck. The one holding his neck then roughly spun him around. It was the girl. With her other hand, she grabbed Dolthethmen in the crotch and then roughly pulled his head toward hers and kissed him, her tongue slipping into his mouth. And in that moment, the stunned Dolthethmen felt her tongue first enter the back of his throat, and then felt it move up into his brain, snaking its way all about inside his skull, until he lost consciousness. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 2: OFFICE COMPLEX CHAPTER 3 SR-016 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 22 sr22 02.3--Dolthethmen & Fer -------------------------- ============================== Ledrant Hate and Prince Ferrajalt stood motionless outside the Noyage Parlour, surveying the unbelievable scene. "This is big," Ferrajalt said. "Yeah. So Injure was right after all. God damn," Hate said, taking a drag on his cigarette. He was shorter than Ferrajalt, thin and wiry, with short blond hair and a cool hat. It was the streetlights that really got them. That, and the strange sort of cold. And of course, the lack of people. But the streetlights, they were a real pisser. Huge. Too huge. Fifty stories high they looked, some of them, casting their cold light on the cold scene. "So is this it?" Ferrajalt said. "Are we screwed? Is this the end of everything?" "I don't know. I wish we could get a hold of Injure. Why don't you try the payphone again?" "I told you man, I don't like the shit I'm hearing on the phone. Weird shit, it doesn't make any sense." "Theoretically Prince," Hate said, taking another long drag of his cigarette and looking up the abandoned street, "we could be stuck on this crashed Earth for the rest of eternity. Who knows if death even works anymore? The collapse of all reality--and Injure saw it coming." "Yeah--and what the hell was he saying this morning--we all thought he was nuts--about how that guy Daptin Gone was involved in it, like it was his fault or something?" "I have no idea. You know I met Daptin Gone on the day I was recruited. He gave Zillionthi a pretty good scouting report, unlike three months ago. He seems like a good person." "Yeah," Ferrajalt said. "But you know, Injure was right about this happening, so who knows what the hell else he was right about." Suddenly, the payphone rang. A chill ran up Ferrajalt's spine. He looked at Hate. "Hey man, why don't you get that?" Ferrajalt said. "Why--scared?" Hate responded. "Fuck yeah I'm scared--you didn't hear that shit like I did." "Fine," Hate said, walking over to the phone, deliberately calm, and answering it. "Hate here." The voice was that of a feisty old woman. "Hey sonny, get your life in order, get rid of that Office Complex at Gumhanshire. Operator 6, 114-Demise." With that, the line went silent, save for a distant buzzing. Hate looked at the handset with a puzzled expression, then hung it up. "What was it?" Ferrajalt asked. Hate turned around. "It was some woman. She said I should get my life in order and get rid of Office Complex at Gumhanshire. Then she said something about an operator." "Huh?" "Exactly. Is that the sort of stuff you heard?" "No," Ferrajalt said. Then the two were startled by voices they heard from within the Noyage Parlour, approaching the door. "People!" the Prince exclaimed. "Let's hope so," Hate said. In the dark, Dolthethmen started to get worried. "Hey Dole," Hasnafter whispered. "Shouldn't we have gotten to the door by now?" "I don't know!" Dolthethmen shot back. "Maybe it's dark outside too!" "Now boys, just have some patience, will you?" Emily said. "We won't see the doors until--now." The group came around a corner of the Noyage Parlour to see the outside, oddly lit and abandoned. "Oh this is just great!" Dolthethmen moaned. "It's not right, is it?" Am said. "Don't worry, honey," Hasnafter said to her. The group stopped. "I really did it this time," Dolthethmen muttered. Emily turned to face him. "What?" she asked. Dolthethmen looked right into her beautiful eyes. "I think I screwed up the universe or something." "Why would you think that?" "Because--I just do." "Look folks," Hasnafter said, "I don't know about you, but I'm going out there. Whatever the hell's happened, we have to move forward. You always have to move forward." "Fine," Dolthethmen said, striding in an exaggerated manner to the doors. "Hello?" Prince Ferrajalt said, jumping out of the way of the doors as Dolthethmen swung them open. Dolthethmen looked at Ferrajalt, then at Hate, as the other three came to the threshold. "What happened?" Dolthethmen asked Ferrajalt, looking hard into the Prince's eyes. "Uh," Ferrajalt said, haltingly, "well, something's happened for sure." "Were you in the Parlour here when it happened?" Ledrant Hate asked. "Holy fuck!" Hasnafter exclaimed, looking at the nearest of the giant streetlights. "Yeah we were in there. Something's happened, for sure," Am said dreamily, also looking up at the lights. Emily looked around and appeared to be in deep concentration. "Do you know anything about all this?" Dolthethmen asked Ferrajalt, and then looked over at Hate. "We have ideas, but nothing concrete," Ferrajalt said. "Is there anyone else in there?" "I don't know. I don't think so," Dolthethmen said. "Okay folks," Hate said, clapping his hands together. "Listen to me. We have a serious problem on our hands. As far as we know, the world as we know it has crashed. It has failed." "What?" Dolthethmen asked loudly. Hate held up his hand. "Just hear me out. A friend of ours predicted that this would happen. We didn't take him seriously, but now, it seems that he was right. The only thing I can think of doing is to try and get to him--he may have some answers." Emily looked up. "Where is this friend of yours?" she said. "As far as we know, he's still back in Derolbam City," Ferrajalt said. "I know it seems like everyone's disappeared, but our friend, Injure Bodoni, was working on a way to protect himself this morning. Maybe it worked, maybe it didn't." "Let's just hope it did," Hate added. "Look, who are you people?" Dolthethmen asked. "Well I'm just a regular guy from the area, my name's Ledrant Hate. But him--he's royalty. You can call him Prince Ferrajalt." "Yeah," Ferrajalt said sarcastically. Hasnafter and Am had their arms around each other's shoulders, staring worriedly up at the nearest streetlight. They were silent. "Well, we're just regular folks from the area too. My name's Dolthethmen, and this here's Emily. The other two over there..." Dolthethmen noticed what was happening with Hasnafter and Am. "What's their problem?" Dolthethmen asked. "Hey guys--you okay?" Emily asked of the stunned two. "Yeah, we're okay," Hasnafter said blankly. "But willya just look at that thing?" Emily looked up at the streetlamp and then back at Hasnafter. "It's very strange, but then again, we're in a very strange situation," Emily said. "Don't make such a big deal out of it." "Folks," Hate said. "Dolthethmen, Emily, all of you--we have to get to Derolbam City, and we came here by bus--a mode of transportation which doesn't seem to exist anymore." "I have a car," Dolthethmen said. "So do I," Emily added. "Great," Ferrajalt said. "So if the cars still exist, and if they still work, and if the roads are still there, and if Derolbam City is still there, we should be okay." "That's a lot of 'ifs'," Emily said. "The whole world is one big 'if' now," Ferrajalt responded. Suddenly, Hasnafter and Am began muttering under their breath, as they leaned back against the wall of the Noyage Parlour. The muttering soon turned to wailing. "We're just not interesting enough!" Hasnafter moaned. It was becoming apparent that the two were slowly sinking into the wall. "I always wanted to contribute!" Am yelled. They were getting swallowed up by the wall, faster and faster. "He just wants to get rid of us!" Hasnafter wailed. "We can't fight it," Am said. Emily turned to Dolthethmen. "What should we do?" "I don't know," Dolthethmen said, thinking of rushing forward to help his friends, but hesitating. "Hasnafter! What's wrong? Who is it that's trying to get rid of you?" "It's no use, Dole," Hasnafter said, a horrible expression of despair on his face. "We have no place in this strange, exciting new world." "I don't know about you," Ledrant Hate said to the group, "but I think we should just let them go. Just look around--everyone else has disappeared--these two may have just had a little extra time. And everyone's existence may hinge upon us finding Injure and finding a way to set things right." Emily stared at Hate, incredulous. "We can't just let them disappear!" "Wait a minute," Dolthethmen said, holding up his hand. "Am--Ambivale--listen to me! Who is it? Who is trying to get rid of you?" Am looked up at Dolthethmen with the look of a child pouting after a temper tantrum, and with a distant and apathetic voice, she said "Someone." Am and Hasnafter were silent and dazed now, more than half sunk into the brick wall. Emily looked around at the others. "Why doesn't someone try and pull them out?" she yelled. Hate looked at the girl, and in an accusing tone, said "Why don't you?" Emily paused, jumped once in frustration and said, "Because, I don't want to get sucked in too!" "Exactly," Ferrajalt said, with a slight snicker and smile. "Just look everybody," Dolthethmen said. "They say that someone is trying to get rid of them. We have to find out who that is!" "Maybe it's Daptin Gone," Ferrajalt said, looking over at Hate. "I have no idea," Hate said. "But look around, people. Please. We're in a real bad situation here. Any moment could be our last. I know they're your friends and not ours--but we need to get going if we have any chance of solving this crisis." "Who is this 'Daptengon'?" Dolthethmen asked. "An old associate of ours who may be involved in this," Hate said. "But we can talk about this on the way back up to Derolbam." Dolthethmen sighed. "Fine. Let's get going," he said. Emily looked at Dolthethmen, then back at the hapless two, now more in the wall than not. "No!" Emily yelled. "We can't just leave them. There has to be something we can do! It has to be something like a test! Maybe whoever's doing it is testing our love for our friends!" There was a pregnant pause as the three not-in-the wall fellows looked at Emily. After a few more moments, Emily said, in a terse and inquiring manner, "What?" while flipping her hands up. "Do you really love your friends there?" Ferrajalt asked. "Huh?" Emily said, looking over at Am and Hasnafter, sinking quicker and quicker. "Well, yeah. I do. I mean, I guess I..." "That's it," Dolthethmen said. "It is a test and we fail. I don't have any love for either of those two. Hasnafter is annoying and Am is a freak. I don't give a crap about them. Let them fucking go!" Emily stood there, looking back and forth, tears beginning to form in her eyes. And almost immediately, Ambivale and Hasnafter were gone. Ledrant Hate waited until he felt it was right to speak. "I know it's a shock to lose your friends, but like I said--look around you. Reality is shot. And just think of all the other people you've probably lost." "You said you guys had cars," Ferrajalt said. "If they're still here, we really have to get going to Derolbam." "Okay, let's go," Dolthethmen said, turning and starting down the street. "They're at the parking lot down here." Emily, openly crying now, followed along as the group began down the cold, scarily-lit street. Soon they came to the parking lot, and found that most of the cars were upside-down. "Uh," Ferrajalt said. "Upside-down cars." "Very observant," Emily said, sniffling and seeking to see if her car was upright. It wasn't. "Where's your car?" Ferrajalt asked Dolthethmen. "Fuck!" Emily said. "They got my car!" "Relax," Dolthethmen said from across the lot. "Mine is rightside-up, and it has a full tank of gas, unlike yours, Emily--remember?" "Hmm!" Emily said in mock, flirty frustration. "Okay everyone--get in," Dolthethmen said. Soon they were all inside the car. "Lucky those two dropped out," Ferrajalt said. "They wouldn't have fit." "Have some manners, Prince," Hate said. "If they were your friends you might not be so flip." "Just stating facts," Ferrajalt said. Dolthethmen started the engine, and it sounded fine. "We're on our way," Dolthethmen said. They pulled out of the parking lot and drove up the street, but as they passed the Noyage Parlour, Dolthethmen stopped. "What's wrong?" Emily asked. "Nothing--I just want to check something." Dolthethmen left the car running and got out. He walked up to the doors, opened them, and peered in. Then he entered the building. "Look, what the hell is he doing?" Ferrajalt asked Emily. "How should I know? He's fucking nuts," she responded. Soon Dolthethmen reappeared in the entrance area and nodded toward the folks in the cars. Then he stepped away again, soon to return, leading Ambivale and Hasnafter by their arms. The two shuffled along like zombies, blank expressions on their faces. Dolthethmen opened the doors and yelled "See! I had a feeling! They went through the wall, and just wound up inside!" "Son of a bitch!" Ferrajalt exclaimed, as he and the others climbed out of the car and ran forward to see what the deal was. "They're okay," Dolthethmen said. "Right Hasnafter?" "Yes. We are okay," Hasnafter said in a very robotic manner. "Am?" Dolthethmen asked. "Yes. We are okay," Ambivale said, in an equally monotone fashion. "Do you want to come with us?" Emily asked, putting her hand on Ambivale's shoulder. "We're going up to Derolbam City to see about fixing all this." "No," Ambivale said. "I would like to stay here." "Has?" Emily asked. "No," Hasnafter said. "I would like to stay here." "Gee Dolthethmen," Ferrajalt said. "You sure it was a good idea to find them?" "Look," Dolthethmen said. "I want to find out who it is that was behind--uh--behind putting them through that wall and zonking them out like this. Well Hasnafter? Who was it?" "A man who is listening to music. No more," Hasnafter said. "A man who is listening to music. No more," Ambivale said. "Okay, I've had enough of this. Let's get a goddamned move on! Come on!" Hate said. "Okay, okay," Dolthethmen said. "You two sure you'll be okay here? We'll come back for you if we can." "We'll be fine," Hasnafter said, a little less robotically, with an almost sinister look on his face. "Okay--let's go!" Dolthethmen said, and they were on their way again. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 2: OFFICE COMPLEX CHAPTER 4 SR-017 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 26 sr26 02.4--Domino Wave -------------------------- ============================== "It's not in there. Power zoom 7 carat/Farrafly method. It's not there. I can't jing it! I can't jing it! Former, 14 Relora stance. Go. Go. Possibility phase delay! Go 16 toron. Drip in 5. It's too impossible! Forgetprev dothis," Injure Bodoni muttered to himself, a little furry lady on his shoulder, him oblivious to the group of people who'd entered his workshop about a minute earlier. "Hey!" Emily yelled. "Ah! Ah!" Injure screeched, holding his hands to his head in sudden shock, turning. "Injure," Hate said. "How goes it?" "Greetings," said the little creature on Injure's shoulder. She was about a foot-and-a-half tall, wearing a black dress, and seemed to be a cute anthropomorphic fox or cat or something, with yellow-orange fur. "Hi there," Injure said, looking back at his equipment. Hate strode forward and looked to see what Injure was doing, giving the little furry lady a sideways glance. "Looks like you were right," Hate said quietly. Injure heaved a sigh and turned to face the others. "Everybody, I've been working, um, at a steady pace since the collapse, and I have to say that while it's bad--really bad--the fact that any of us are here is a good sign." The little creature smiled. "What the hell is that?" Ferrajalt asked, nodding his head toward the furry lady. "My name is Ann Saply. And I'm a who, not a what, young royal." "Sorry," Ferrajalt said. "But where exactly did you come from?" "This business just sort of shook me out the pepper shaker, so to say," Ann said. "She appeared soon after the collapse," Injure said. "Her signatures indicate fifth-realm/perpendict origins, though of course I can't be sure." "Uh huh," Ferrajalt said, nodding, mocking Injure's not-for-laymen techspeak. Hate looked intently at Injure. "Have you tried to bridge?" Injure gave a look of despair. "Yes." "What happened?" Hate asked. "Well," Injure said with emphasis, "it wasn't pretty." "What do you mean?" Ferrajalt said. Injure looked down at his instruments. "With the collapse, this Earth is no longer suitable for bridges. The b-volume I hanced became terribly unstable, full of lightning and monstrosities. Pretty much what I expected." Then Injure looked at Dolthethmen and Emily. "These two--did you locate any more?" "Huh?" Ferrajalt asked. "These people you found--were there any more? Did you see any more?" Injure asked. "Well," Ferrajalt said, "there were two others, but they got really messed up. They looked at those streetlights and got sucked through a wall and were, like, totally stoned out." "Where are they?" Injure asked. "Back at the Noyage Parlour in Hennonly. They were in no shape to travel," Hate said. "Hmm. I was wondering if any non-OA had remainified. Interesting," Injure said. "Huh?" Dolthethmen said. Ann Saply gave Dolthethmen a strange look. Injure looked at Hate, who nodded. "I guess there's no point in keeping this from you," Injure said to Dolthethmen and Emily. "We are members of Overwhelm Associates--a company which has the ability to travel to thousands of different Earths. I had thought our off-Earth status was what kept us existent--even though most of us here went non--but with Ledrant and you folks, it seems like my theory is wrong. Though Ledrant is jolc-tethered flive, and Primate." "Yeah, that's me, Mr. Jolc-Tethered. Anyway, who else survived?" "Well, as far as I know, there are four others, all Primate," Injure said. "Who?" Hate asked. "Lemme see--Vike Varmabey and Treyess Arcomany were the only ones left here at base when it happened. Treyess wasn't even supposed to be here--she was trying to get away from Greatwall until that faery thing blew over." "Who else?" Hate asked. "Well, Nevrippa Den and V Sincein were stuck somewhere, and Vike and Treyess went to try and find them." "How'd you get in touch with them?" Hate asked. "Oh--kemig communicators still work. At least in the same Earth--we haven't been able to contact Greatwall or anyone else, though," Injure said. "Yeah, but who carries kemigs with them?" Ferrajalt asked. "Luckily, V Sincein has one of the portable prototypes, built into his gun," Injure said. There was an uncomfortable silence, until Hate finally spoke. "Can we reverse this collapse?" Injure sighed. "Short answer? Yes. Long answer? Highly unlikely. Not to get too technical, but every Earth has a complex system of event-whastions. The domino-wave that hit us sent the whole thing way off-kilter. At least, that's my theory. I did see it coming, you know. You remember the weird coincidences that happened in the past few days--like a tsunami, disorder was sucked away briefly as the massive disorder deluge was approaching." "So how could we revive this Earth's system?" Hate asked. Injure smiled in frustration and shook his head. "The right event-whastion could resuscitate part of the system, and if it's the right part, it could set off a chain reaction which would totally on-line this Earth again. From there, Aconckwise, it's fortyjult." "So what the hell does that mean?" Ferrajalt asked. "It means, Prince, that we might be able to make things right by doing something, but we have no idea what that something might be," Injure said. "Oh," Ferrajalt said. "Okay now wait a minute," Emily burst out. "Why did you say this happened again?" Injure regarded the girl. "I don't know the cause of the domino-wave--it could have been anything. The Unreal 64, another company like ours, has been doing very dangerous things with reality, so it was probably them. I also definitely read the signature of one of our former associates, a guy named Daptin Gone, in the pre-wave ifo-flow. He could have been working for them. I've heard rumors in that regard." "Also," Hate added, "it's well-known that Aconck--our interconnection of Earths--has been tried before, around 500 years ago. They suffered a total collapse as well. And they never recovered. But luckily, that was a different set of Earths. Well, except for Red Alley Earth, which was spared, which is why we know about it.. But I digress." "Okay," Emily said, turning to Dolthethmen. "Okay. Dole, you know what you told us. You said you might have caused all this." Dolthethmen looked down, tears welling up in his eyes. "Let's hear about this!" Injure said in his nerdy manner. Dolthethmen frowned and shook his head, as the events of earlier in the day ran through his mind... The girl's tongue in his head... he passed out and woke up to her doing sexual things to him, and she revealed she was him from the future... he used vague magic to get away from her, then he went to the mall... met Hasnafter and Ambivale and Emily there... he used vague magic again to make Emily attracted to him... then he went to the Noyage Parlor with them... "Um," Dolthethmen said, "I don't know. I guess a lot of stuff happened today. Things kinda got out of hand." "In what way?" Injure asked. "Well, I guess since you were honest, I'll be honest too," Dolthethmen said, looking up. "I---I think I have powers. Today, what happened was, um, there was this girl who like, assaulted me, y'know, in that way, and it turned out that, y'know, she was basically me in the future. She had come back in time to, whatever, be perverted with her previous self." "What?" Emily asked in shock and amazement. "Yeah," Dolthethmen said. "The thing is, I was able to get away from her and stuff, but what I had to do was, I mean, I had to like make a mental note, that when I got that powerful, you know, having time travel and stuff, I should go back and save myself from her, and really erase the whole event. So that's what I did. But that's probably what attracted her--me--to that time and place. I don't know." "Fascinating!" Injure said. "This is prime stuff!" "Okay, okay," Ferrajalt said. "Forget Bodoni--the scientist in him is taking over. So, uh--Dolthethmen was it?--why do you think you caused this? Because of this time travel junk?" Dolthethmen sighed. "It's not just that. I--it's just that, before..." He looked at Emily. "When I met you at the mall, Emily, I just--I don't know. I had a fantasy about you, about going out with you and stuff. So I, well, I did the same thing--I asked my future self to alter reality so that I could go out with you and stuff." "And stuff?" Emily asked, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah," Dolthethmen said, looking down again. "And stuff." "So you think you caused this reality collapse?" Hate asked. "It crossed my mind," Dolthethmen said, looking up at Hate. "No," Injure said. "What I gather from your story, the forces and frames involved, there's no way it could have been you. Although--that all this stuff happened to you today is probably related to the approaching domino-wave. Has this sort of thing happened before, Dolthethmen?" "Yeah. I mean, nowhere near as bad as this, but it has happened before. I mean, a little." "Well," Injure said, "like I said, I'm certain that this phenom-set of yours is an effect of the domino-wave--not its cause. But thank you for offering the information--every little bit helps." "Uh-huh," Dolthethmen said, miserable. Suddenly, a wild beeping-and-ringing noise was heard. "The central kemig!" Injure yelled. "Hopefully it's V and Nevrippa telling us that Treyess and Vike are there." Injure fiddled with some controls, and an awesome visage appeared on the screen--a bizarre monster in bizarre armor. "Hypergod Amnifaoz here," a frightening voice boomed. "Who's there?" "Uh," Injure said, "this is, uh, OA Consultants. Who's this?" "My ID precedes! All channels are dead. What is your twenty?" Hypergod Amnifaoz thundered. Injure looked at the others. "Um--we're on Timber Serious Earth, in Derolbam City. What's your, uh, twenty?" The Hypergod was seen looking around for something. "Not enough information," Amnifaoz said. "Did you experience a disturbance 118 minutes ago?" Injure looked at the others again, then back at the screen. "Uh, yeah, we did experience something--a reality collapse of some sort." "Filba/fibla! Concurs. Must reconnoiter with Emma. Hold," the monster said, again looking around offscreen. "Who the hell is that?" Ferrajalt asked. "I have no idea!" Injure said. "We never picked up an alien signal on the kemig before!" "End possibility/Emma," Amnifaoz said. "I am utterly lost. Hypergod Word--request FIF, promise to do you no harm, provide help and rewards if asked for. Response?" "Uh, what do you mean?" Inure asked. "Rephrasing, I need permission to Full-Info-Fill to your twenty. I swear to do you no harm, and provide help and material rewards if you so wish. Do you agree?" "I have to confer with my, uh, associates. Give me a minute." "Understood." Injure turned to the group, then to Ann Saply, still on his shoulder. "Ann--you came out of nowhere--you know this guy?" "I don't know him," Ann said, her eyes looking as wise as ever. "But he might prove helpful. I say let him come through." "Well, people?" Injure asked. "It's up to you," Hate said. "Okay. I say we let him through," Injure said, turning to the kemig screen. "Okay, uh, whoever you are. Permission granted to come though." A flash of light and a brief popping sound later, Hypergod Amnifaoz towered before Injure Bodoni. "You have my gratitude," the monster said. "No problem," Injure replied. The Hypergod then gazed at Ann Saply and let out a loud metallic sound that might have been a laugh. "The re-ine of your kind! Twas a fine damagewave hit this realm then!" Amnifaoz said. Ann regarded the beast calmly. "Muttering recruit, get a grip," she said. "I thought you said you didn't know this guy?" Injure said. "I don't know him, but his kind I know," Ann said, jumping off of Injure's shoulder and onto a nearby comfy chair. "He's not really one of them. They started taking humans and turning them Hypergod some time ago. But that was infinity years ago." Emily sat down in another of the comfy chairs, holding her hand to her head. "I know this might seem a little lame," she said, "but I'm thinking now that this might be a dream. Why shouldn't I think this is a dream?" "I know this must seem unbelievable to you," Bodoni said. "I mean, you being the only normal person here and all." "The thing is," Emily said, "I'm not all that normal." "What do you mean?" Injure asked. "I mean," Emily said, "that I am Dolthethmen, from the future. I came back to fool around with myself a little. But I never expected any of this. I mean--I am from the future after all--and none of this ever happened!" Dolthethmen felt like a mountain of bowling balls had just collapsed onto him. He stared blankly at Emily. "Well!" Emily said. "What do you want? I remember when I was you all too well. I was such a loser." Dolthethmen continued to stare. "So I was right," he said. "You are the same future me that screwed me up in the parking lot." "Not really," the pretty girl said. "I did that a few centuries back. I've mellowed out a lot since then." Dolthethmen sneered. "So this is what I have to look forward to? Becoming a superpowerful pervert?" "Among other things--yes," Emily said. Tears began to well in Dolthethmen's eyes. "I had a good life here. I was learning things. I was maturing," he said. "And you still will," Emily said. "It's just--oh!--you're too irresistible a target!" Dolthethmen turned away, and though trying to hold back, burst into tears. "Sorry," Emily said. "Excellent situation! An exquisite flavor!" Hypergod Amnifaoz bellowed. "Most refined." "What?" Emily asked, looking calmly up at the beast. "Ho, I am a connoisseur of such fine situations! And you, the sexual predator of past selves, provide lively grist!" "I'm glad you find this so amusing," Emily said. "A fine spread. I must record. Hold," Amnifaoz said, reaching into a compartment in the left shoulder of his armor and pulling out what appeared to be a snub gun of some sort. Prince Ferrajalt held up his hand and said "ho ho ho ho" in alarm. "Naw!" Amnifaoz said. "It's just a situation camera--passive device. Does not harm. Here, a click." The Hypergod clicked the device, and placed it back in his armor. "See? Now I can view the situation over and over again. Even publish-array it for my fellows!" Injure Bodoni licked his lips and stared at Amnifaoz's armor. "A situation camera?" the scientist asked. "A truly functional situation camera? Incredible!" "Yes," Amnifaoz boomed. "Standard issue. I see you're intrigued. I can confer all technical specifications to you, if you wish." "Haha! Yes!" Injure said, looking around at the others. "I want it! A situation camera!" "Don't listen to him," the furry little lady Ann Saply said. "He's got inferior equipment. I can describe to you a full-motion, 5-D situation recorder." "Bah!" Amnifaoz roared. "Hey Mr. Scientist!" Emily yelled, standing up. "I know you're getting a hard-on over all this new technology, but I don't think you've grasped what I said before--I am from the future--and none of this ever happened! Not in any timestream!" "Look you!" Injure said, losing his cool. "This sort of event wouldn't leave a scratch on up to 18 accordions of time! So of course it never happened!" "Huh?" Emily said. "Whatever sort of creature you are," Injure said, "you're not gonna discover this sort of thing unless it hits you square in the ass!" "I see," Emily said. "People!" Ledrant Hate yelled. "And others. We must seek a resolution to this problem. Injure here has stated that there is something we can do that will make everything right again. Isn't that so?" Injure looked at his instruments. "That's true, but with the setup I have here, the best I could do is test event-whastions to see if they'd work--but it could take 40 to 50 minutes to test each one!" "What exactly is an 'event-whastion'?" Emily asked. "It's just something that happens!" Injure said impatiently. "Saying hello to your mother! Throwing a soda can out a car window! Skipping a stone! Anything!" "So effectively," Hate said, "there are an infinite array of event-whastions available at any time." "Well, effectively, but remember Corridor--in any situation, only a tiny subset of all possible event-whastions will be apparent as options." "Okay," Hate said, thinking. "Okay. Back at the Noyage Parlour, the payphone rang. I picked it up and some old woman told me something like, to get my life in order and get rid of Office Complex at Gumhanshire. Then she said something about an operator." "Look I don't understand!" Emily shouted. "Why not ask Hypergod here or the fuzzball over there? They obviously have the technology!" Injure was annoyed. "I already did ask Ann, and though helpful, she doesn't have the capacity. I assume Amnifaoz doesn't either, since Ann's at a higher technological level." "That's true," Ann said. "Fuzzball! Ha ha ha!" Amnifaoz bellowed. Ann sneered at the Hypergod. "But this old woman!" Injure yelled. "What did she say again?" "To get my life in order by getting rid of Office Complex at Gumhanshire--you know--that huge building down in Doscovor," Hate said. "I know it," Injure said. "But get rid of it? As far as we know, it may already be gone--a lot of buildings here in Derolbam are gone, you know." "Well, I'm just saying, getting rid of that building, however it might be done, would be an event-whastion, right?" said Hate. "I guess so," Injure said. "But I still don't understand exactly what 'getting rid of' means." "Destroy it!" Emily said. "Blow it up or something!" Injure turned to look at Emily. "First of all, blowing up a building takes months of preparation. Secondly, the ruins of the building will still be on site. So are we getting rid of the material of the building, or just its pattern integrity?" Ferrajalt turned to Amnifaoz. "Um, Amnifaoz--could you destroy a building?" The beast regarded the Prince. "My personal arms and explosives can mete out wild levels of destruction. But the demolition of a huge building is tricky work. I have tried. Like it or not, I am about as small as you when compared to such a behemoth construct. It would be a slow/messy process, away from these need-parameters." "Um, okay. But how 'bout, y'know, like mass destruction?" Ferrajalt suggested. "Like atomic or strong force or whatever?" "We don't have any here," Injure said. "And even if we did--destroying all of Doscovor and its environs is different than destroying a single building." "Well feed it into your machine--just blowing up the building or whatever--and see if it's the right event!" Prince Ferrajalt said. "Why else would we have gotten that call?" "I can think of lots of reasons," Injure said, fiddling with his instruments. "But I guess it's worth a try. Only problem is, it's such a pain to get the datum into my models." "Well do it," Hate said. "If it turns out to be the right thing, we'll figure out some way to destroy it." "Remember Ledrant--the specific phrasing was 'get rid of'. That's what I'm putting into the model, and that's what we'll have to do." "Agreed," Hate said. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 2: OFFICE COMPLEX CHAPTER 5 SR-018 ============================== 02.5--Ferrajalt Flashback ============================== An uncomfortable silence fell over the room. Prince Ferrajalt looked around and thought: This loser Dolthethmen, now curled up into a fetal position, was still sobbing a little. And what he would become, this gorgeous but superpowerful and corrupt woman, Emily, sitting in a big chair, looking kind of happy. Then there was the huge armored monstrosity of Hypergod Amnifaoz--he seemed far badder even than anything from Hell. And the little yellowfur cat lady in the black dress--"shook out of the pepper shaker" she said--who had befriended Injure Bodoni. Yeah, that Injure. He had a better grasp on bridging and Aconck tech than almost anybody. But he could be a real dick at times. And Ledrant Hate--cool and collected as usual. Ferrajalt wondered if Amnifaoz bore any resemblance to the monsters that tormented Hate as a child. And Ferrajalt thought back to the palace that was his home, the royal family he so gladly abandoned. And now this situation. Not too exciting. The prospect of being stuck in this messed-up failure of an Earth for the rest of eternity was not too appealing. But he took a risk by joining Overwhelm Associates. Still, he wished he was home, and he felt bad that he hadn't contacted his family in so long. He could only imagine what the tabloid press had concocted as the reason he had effectively disappeared. He supposed his parents thought he had joined a cult or something, but they would never suggest such a thing to the press. No, there were probably some really awful stories about him back home. Home... Ferrajalt thought back to the events just preceding his entry into Overwhelm Associates and Aconck... -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 2: OFFICE COMPLEX CHAPTER 6 SR-019 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 13 sr13 02.6--Balsativan -------------------------- ============================== Prince Ferrajalt walked up the stairs, but his mother managed to yell after him as she always did. "Oh Ferrajalt!" Queen Ibnia said. "The Polants called from the road. They'll be here in fifteen minutes, no more than twenty." Ferrajalt stopped, frustrated. "So what do I care?" He was tall, with short, wavy, light brown hair. His nose was slightly crooked from a childhood injury. "It's high time you grew up and realized your social responsibilities. You're not a child anymore." "Okay, Mother, I don't want to argue. Just tell me what I have to do and I'll do it. Is that fair?" Ferrajalt squeezed the exquisite banister in restlessness, waiting for the Queen to respond. "Ferri, that's an awfully mean attitude to take, don't you think?" "I'm just--" "You are heir to the throne, after all. And it's high time you started acting like it!" Ferrajalt waited, a very unhappy look on his face. "Look Mother, I don't feel at all like you want me to. Not by a kiffin' long shot!" "Ferri, don't cuss." "Just tell me what you want and I'll do it! I can't help the way I feel, but I can help the way I act, dammit!" He waited for a few moments, then continued up the stairs. "You're to entertain the Polants, dear. Your father and I have to go to the Capital to meet with the Secretary of Defense," the Queen said, having walked over to the bottom of the stairs now, looking up at her son. "Top priority, you know, Ferri. In the national interest. You understand, don't you?" Ferrajalt had a sinking feeling. "What exactly am I to do to entertain the Polants?" "I know it's tough for you dear, with all your siblings off at school." "Mother, what have you planned for me to do?" The Queen looked down. "I promised Edna and Showam you'd take them down to the beach in the Balsativan." "The Balsativan!" Ferrajalt exclaimed with disbelief. "Well yes dear. Your father has been teaching you to drive it, hasn't he?" The Prince looked around, angry as hell, trying to find the words. "Why does it always come to me, to me, to do all your, your..." "Now honey, if you can't drive it, the Polants will understand. They'll be a little disappointed, but they'll understand." "Oh I can drive it. You know I can drive it. It's just, them!" "Now, now. The Polants are very important people. And they're our friends. You used to be quite fond of their boys when you were young." "We were all just kids! They didn't have the chance to become little evil clones of their parents yet." The Queen gave a little face of shock, which implied concordance at some level, as she turned to leave. "Whatever your problems with them, you will show the Polants a good time. That Balsativan costs us plenty, and I'll be damned if I let it rot out there." "Don't worry. I'll make sure they're impressed." "You do that," the Queen said, and she was gone into another room. Ferrajalt walked slowly up the stairs, a draining wave of dread preying upon him. As he approached his quarters, he felt something close to panic at the thought of driving the Balsativan by himself. He had no confidence in his ability to drive it, even though he understood all the controls, at least at an academic level. But the thing was so damn big and there were so many sheer dropoffs on the way down from the mountain! But for the moment, Ferrajalt took solace in his amusement park studies, in his models, in his blueprints. And he thought, down at the Hay-Hengren Seaside, where he'd take the Polants, he could slip away and meet Martha, his secret girlfriend. He thought of her face and body, and his fear faded a little. He could do it. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 2: OFFICE COMPLEX CHAPTER 7 SR-020 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 29 sr29 02.7--Nevrippa & V -------------------------- ============================== "I told you it'd be cool!" Nevrippa Den said, behind the wheel of a big truck. V Sincein sat beside her. He regarded his fellow Overwhelm Primate. She wore nothing but shades of pink, as a matter of principle. Kind of a skirt, kind of a dress, kind of a sweater, kind of a vest. She had a little bit of hair in a weird pattern on her head, dirty blond. Her tiny, naturally attractive five-foot frame was a frightening powerhouse. Indeed, she was one of Overwhelm Associates' most formidable warriors. This was part of the reason V Sincein wasn't trying too hard to dissuade Nevrippa from her ill-timed campaign to steal all manner of treasures and art masterpieces while reality was crashed. He tried to explain to her there'd be plenty of time for looting after they returned to base and got a handle on the situation, but she wouldn't have anything of it. "But aren't these masterpieces screwed up?" V Sincein asked. Indeed, the reality crash seemed to be especially adverse to works of art, all of which were twisted and altered to some degree or another. Scary stuff. "I like the way they took the knockout punch. It's awesome!" Nevrippa said. "But the others must be worried about us." V didn't like how that sounded. He sounded like a loser. Here was Nevrippa Den, living in the moment, as he had always strived for. But he was unable to match her pace. As a radio DJ, V had gotten into a musical mystery perpetrated by supergroup The Anger Friends. They had a concept album, "Commonday", which contained numerous allusions to some sort of horrible ancient secret. V got involved in the frenzy to figure the riddle out, and was the first to solve it. Problem was, it turned out to be a very real and powerful ancient force. The Anger Friends had thought it was all a joke. V gained some notoriety for finding the secret, but most people thought the odd phenomenon surrounding him--a huge gossamer cube which followed him around--was some sort of special effect. They didn't realize he'd uncovered something unbelievable. He tried to convince people that he had discovered something remarkable. But more and more, people began branding him as a nut, and his radio career soon ended. But just a week into his personal decline after losing his job, V was recruited into Overwhelm Associates. He still didn't understand the magical immaterial cube, sometimes barely visible, which lazily followed him around. Nor did he understand the way it made him feel. "Hey V! Guess what I see?" Nevrippa Den said. "What?" V Sincein responded. "A video store, guy!" "So? What are you looking for--rare bootleg videos or something?" "No silly. Just take a look at some of those paintings back there. If they got so messed by this reality crash, imagine what might have happened to some of our favorite Timber Serious Earth movies!" A chill ran up V's spine. "Now come on, Nevrippa. I don't know if we want to get involved--" "--call me Rippy!" "Huh?" "I'm feeling good. Call me Rippy!" "Whatever. Okay, Rippy. I was just saying, those painting are scary enough, with what's happened to them. Are you sure we should take the leap to videos?" But Nevrippa was already stopping the truck in front of the video store, right next to the base of one of those enormous streetlights. "Think of the marketing value, V! This stuff'll be worth big bucks when we get back to reality! I wanna be rich!" "Well, I think it's a bad idea, really," V said. But Nevrippa was already halfway out of the truck. So they went into the video store. A TV behind the counter flickered with static, casting nightmarish shadows throughout the store. The place looked like it had been ransacked. There were videos scattered all over the place. Nevrippa rifled through a pile on the ground, while V just looked around, a sinking feeling coming over him. "Look, Rippy. I may have enough battery power left for one more kemig transmission. We should call and tell the others we're coming back. Enough of this craziness." "I quite agree!" Nevrippa said brightly, as she jumped up with more spunk than reasonable, given the situation. She held a video up. "But we just have to take a look at this one! I think it's a reality-crash derivative of that great high school sexploitation flick, 'Going Nowhere'." V looked at the label on the box. He could barely make out some sort of suburban street, with the title "Went Nowhere" spray painted on the road in the photo. "'Went Nowhere'? Maybe it's the sequel?" "No way," Nevrippa said, wading through a sea of videos to get behind the counter. "I've researched the movie before. If there were any sequel, in any way, I would have known about it. No--this is the reality-crashed version of 'Going Nowhere'. Isn't this awesome? I'm all goosebumpy!" V watched helplessly as Nevrippa fumbled with the VCR, stuck the tape in, and pressed play. He looked outside briefly. Just the same cold, abandoned city. The static and snow on the TV was replaced by the fresh black of a video start. "I don't know if I want to see this, Rippy." "Of course you do! Come on--you're a Primate for crying out loud! Have some backbone in the face of the unreal." "Okay," V said. He did fear Nevrippa. Not that she'd ever threaten him or anyone else in Overwhelm, but it was just the fact that she could utterly cream him in the blink of an eye. Such power, such terror, in the hands of this crazy little girl. "This is gonna be great! I love the real version of this movie. I can't wait to see how it got changed!" she said. "We're not gonna watch the whole thing, are we?" "No--just the first couple of minutes, so I get an idea of what it's like!" The film studio logo faded in, normal except for a different color scheme. Then it faded to black, and then it faded into a scene of some teenagers in the woods. One boy was skateboarding on some huge rocks, and a girl was kneeling down with a video camera. A fat kid and a nerdy kid were also there. "You can't skate on rocks," the fat kid said. "What do you think I'm doing?" The shot then changed to a close-up of the girl tearing open a brand new videotape and loading it into her camera. "You'll damage your wheels," the nerd said. "I'll damage your face." After this, there were shots of the girl videotaping the cool guy doing all sorts of skating trick on the rocks, with plenty of adolescent repartee. Finally, the guy fell into a stream, and the girl said "Okay, let's go home and take a look at Mr. Wonderful TV star!" The guy laughed sarcastically from the water. V Sincein shook his head. "Is this that much different from the original?" "Yeah! I mean, they're the same characters, but there was never any scene like this." "It's just--it doesn't seem very strange." "Shh! I wanna hear this!" The four kids entered a nice suburban living room, and the girl set the camera down on the couch and took the tape out. "You have to rewind it?" the cool guy asked. "No, I rewound it in the camera." "Awesome," the cool guy said, smiling and nodding. The girl turned on the TV, put the video in the VCR, and pressed play. Instantly, an image came up, but it was of the four of them standing together on one of the rocks, arms around each others shoulders, as in a chorus line, happily counting, "eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen..." "What the hell is this?" the cool guy asked. "We didn't do that!" the fat kid said. The scene zoomed into the face of the nerd watching the tape, and he wore a look a horror. The girl jumped forward and stopped the tape. "Maybe I used an old tape," she said, ejecting the tape to look at it. "I saw you open it up! It was new!" the cool guy said. "I know," the girl said, looking over the tape. "But we never did that!" the fat kid yelled, starting to panic, "I know we never did." The cool guy held his hand up. "Okay! Just relax! There has to be a rational explanation for this." "Put it back in," the nerd said, with icy calmness. "We have to see the whole thing." "Maybe it was the company who made the tape," the fat kid said, starting to cry. "Maybe they did it." "How could they?" the girl said, shaking as she put the tape back in. "That was us!" She looked back at the other three before pressing play. The image came up again, the kids were still counting. Then the scene changed to the four of them climbing up on some kind of net, high up in some trees. The camera was shaking, as if the one holding it were also in the net--but all four of them were on screen. "Now what the hell is this?" the fat kid sobbed, panic rising in his heart. "We never did that!" "Shut up!" the cool guy yelled. "Then the scene changed--it was a police car, pulled over, lights flashing. The camera was shaking, as if the person holding it was trying to get a better position. It seemed as if the camera was taping from a hidden location, under a bush or something. There were two cops yelling something, and then it zoomed in to the girl, who was down on her knees, her hands handcuffed behind her back. One of the cops then yelled something else, pointed a gun at the girl's head, and pulled the trigger. For a moment, the sight of her head being blown apart was visible, but then the scene in the film shifted to a still-frame of the four kids in the living room, all with looks of shock and horror on their faces. The credits then started, with the scene panning and zooming around the still frame. The theme song was an upbeat, goofy sort of rock song, which contrasted in a very shocking way with the visuals. Nevrippa turned around and looked at V, who had a kind of sickened expression on his face. "See? I told you it would get good," she said. V smiled a little, and nodded his head. He couldn't really think of anything to say--he was still trying to process what he had just seen. "I gotta see what happens!" Nevrippa yelled. As the credits finally ended, there was another fade to black, and the scene then faded into two kids hiding under a car in a parking garage--the fat kid and the nerd. They were silent as they watched a big car drive into a car elevator. The doors closed, and from the cracks on the side of the elevator, it was apparent that the elevator was going up. "See, I told ya!" the fat kid said. "It goes up! But there's nothing up! There's just a roof up there!" "I see what you mean," the nerd said. "So you wanna do it?" "Do what?" "Find out where they're going!" "Definitely--but how?" "Well--listen," the fat kid said, "here's my plan. If we hide behind that dumpster, then we could crawl in after they go into it, and they wouldn't see us!" "I don't know--I don't want to get into trouble." "What could happen! We're minors for god's sake! We can't go to jail or anything." "Yeah, I guess." "Listen--I hear a car coming up from down there--let's get over there." "Well..." "Come on!" The fat kid and the nerd ran across the garage and hid behind the dumpster. Soon, a car came and stopped in front of the elevator door. After about ten seconds, the door opened up, and the car drove in. "It's now or never!" the fat kid said, and the two crawled into the elevator, behind the car. Slowly, the doors closed, and the two kids were in the stark light of the elevator. With a lurch, it began to move upward. And it kept on going. "This is ridiculous!" the nerd whispered loudly. "Where the hell are we going?" "That's what I wanna find out!" They continued upward, and the two exchanged worried glances. Finally, the elevator slowed and lurched to a halt. A sign came into view as the elevator doors on the other side began to open, reading 'THE UPPER CITY'. As the doors opened fully, a bright scene was revealed--a gorgeous place and a gorgeous day. "Whoah!" the fat kid exclaimed. The nerd smiled broadly. V was shocked as the TV switched back to static and snow. Nevrippa had stopped the tape and was taking it out. "Oh--it's just you," V said. "See--you were getting involved in it!" Nevrippa said, taking the tape out and putting it back in its case. "It's good, isn't it? And the coolest part is--where the hell is it coming from, you know? Like, no one ever made it, but here it is!" "Pretty scary." "Yeah. Now I want all these videos in the truck." "Huh?" V exclaimed in surprise. "Yup. All of them. We'll make a fortune, you and I." V sighed in protest, but figured he'd have to do it. Nevrippa laughed--V looked so funny, sighing in protest with this huge transparent cube surrounding the upper part of his body. "Come on, silly," Nevrippa said enthusiastically. And they began loading all the videos into the truck. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 2: OFFICE COMPLEX CHAPTER 8 SR-021 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 32 sr32 02.8--The Boat Plan -------------------------- ============================== Prince Ferrajalt jumped up out of his chair. "I got it!" he yelled. "I know how we can do it!" The others turned lazily toward him. They'd been mulling over ideas for hours, and were exhausted. Injure Bodoni had verified that somehow "getting rid" of Office Complex at Gumhanshire could indeed potentially bring reality back. "What?" Emily Tare asked crankily. "This better be good," Injure Bodoni said, turning from his instruments. "It is! It is!" Ferrajalt said. "Okay--you know that ocean liner there in Citydock--we could lower it down onto the frozen river, and tow it downstream toward the waterfall. Once it gets there, if it's going fast enough, and in the right direction, it'll fly over the lake and smash right into Office Complex at Gumhanshire!" Emily let out an annoyed sigh. "That, like that'd work," Bodoni said, turning back to his instruments. "Come on! It's perfect!" Ferrajalt said. "Just how are we going to 'tow' it, as you say? Do you have any idea the mass of that thing?" Bodoni said, looking back. "Well," Ferrajalt said, "I was thinking those giant police cars we saw on the way up here--you know Ledrant? Those. If they're functional, enough of those could pull the boat." Bodoni shook his head several times. "Well, it's the stupidest thing I ever heard of, but I may as well run it through my model." "Yeah, yeah," Ferrajalt said. "Give it a shot. Check it out--I'm pretty sure it's gonna work." "At least it's a concrete idea," Ledrant Hate commented. "Concrete?" Emily said in disbelief, staring at Ferrajalt. "Concrete? How many police cars will we need--and how many people do we have to drive them? What happens to those people when the boat goes over the frozen waterfall? We all gonna sacrifice our lives for this crummy world?" "Just who do you think you are?" Ferrajalt snapped at Emily. "I'm a member--" He stopped himself--he knew that his being a prince wasn't germane in these circumstances. He had meant it as a kind of sarcastic thing, but he wished he hadn't said it. "Oh, yes," Emily said. "I forgot--you're royalty! Heavens, please forgive me 'your highness'. You're just so far above all the rest of us." "Look, just shut up!" Ferrajalt yelled. Hypergod Amnifaoz began laughing his horrible laugh. "The truth hurts," Emily said coolly. "Just wait a minute," Ledrant Hate yelled. Everyone was shocked--Hate was not one to lose his cool. He pointed his finger toward Emily. "You," he said. "I don't like you. You helped us--you drove us up here--big deal. Now you just sit there with your shit-eating grin, criticizing and annoying all of us. You're no longer welcome here. Get out and don't come back." Emily smiled and sat up a little. "I knew I recognized you, Ledrant Hate. From a long, long time ago. I met you once, in a previous incarnation. At Thatterine College." Hate frowned. "Who were you?" "Hmm... Such a long time has passed. Names, names. So hard to keep track of all of them. Now let me see..." Hate glanced at Dolthethmen, who was now staring at Emily with an insane glare. "Hypergod Amnifaoz," Hate said. "Yes, there?" the beast responded. Hate motioned his head toward Emily. "If I were to ask for your assistance, in removing this creature from the premises, would that be something you could help me with?" "Why, yes there," the Hypergod said. "Noaster Sitar," Emily said, suddenly. Ledrant's eyes narrowed, then he began nodding. "Yeah," he said. "That would make sense. Do you remember what you wound up doing there?" Emily's smile broadened. "Oh yeah. Who could forget that?" Hate closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. "Get her out of here, Hypergod Amnifaoz--both versions of her." Dolthethmen began to look around nervously. "Um... uh... you mean, uh... me, too?" "Do it!" Hate boomed. Amnifaoz strode across the room and grabbed Dolthethmen by the back of his shirt. As he turned to Emily, she threw her hands forward and a shower of sparks fell all about her. With alarming suddenness, Amnifaoz grabbed Emily and tucked her under his arm. "Harf, harf! Silly minor occult entity, hedonist. You're out of here," the monster said. The sparks fizzled out, and Amnifaoz turned toward the door, but it was far too small to allow him to pass, let alone with him holding two people. So he turned toward Hate. "May I demolish walls/doors as needed to pass?" "Go ahead," Hate said. "Hey wait a minute, that's--" Bodoni began. "--oh shut up," Hate said. "What does it matter now?" With this, Amnifaoz emitted some sort of sonic burst which leveled half the wall in front of him, and then strode through the debris. "But we could have used them!" Bodoni said. "To drive police cars and stuff!" "Screw that," Ferrajalt said. "I couldn't stand that bitch. And what she did--that's gross. Going back in time to have sex with herself. I mean, screw that. I want no part of it." "They're fully within their rights to excise that creep, you know," the little cat lady Ann Saply said to Bodoni. "I know, but c'mon! We could have used them!" the scientist complained. "This situation is fucked up enough, without someone like that," Hate said. "I just couldn't stand listening to that scumbag anymore! And when I found out she was Noaster Sitar--well, let's just say there were no options left." "The Noaster Sitar--the one you told me about?" Ferrajalt asked. "The same," Hate said. "Back on Red Alley Earth. I was taking a well-deserved two-week vacation, living with some Aconck-wise kids in a dorm." "But isn't that--I don't know--a little too weird? I mean, a time traveller, yeah, but we're pretty far out into Aconck," the Prince said. "I know. I don't like it either," Hate said. "I'm starting to really hate all this supernatural shit," Ferrajalt said. "I remember a time when my life was enjoyable." Hate glanced at the Prince. "I wish I could say that." Injure Bodoni turned to Ledrant Hate. "So what was it that happened with you and that previous version of that girl, Noaster Sitar?" Hate stared at the scientist. "The thing is, I had to kill him." "You killed her?" Bodoni exclaimed. "I mean, her in a former incarnation? Cool! I mean..." "I was not 'cool'," Hate said. "A lot of people got hurt. And I don't feel like talking about it--we have other concerns at the moment. Such as--what sort of timeframe are we looking at here? Are we in a hurry, or might we as well take our time?" "My calculations conclude that the state we're in is a stable-answer state. That is, the ways things are now, they're going to stay. The sun will not come up, and additional transformations from baseline will not occur," Bodoni said. "But what about the building?" Hate asked. "You told us that getting rid of Office Complex at Gumhanshire could cause reality to come back. Is there a time limit for that?" "Oh," Bodoni said, nodding his head. "I didn't put that into the calculation." "Why not?" Prince Ferrajalt said. "Because! I don't know!" Bodoni said. "That wasn't the question. It was just whether or not it would work." "Crap!" Ferrajalt said. "So already, it might not work anymore!" "Scientists often lack common sense," Ann Saply said with a smile. "Thanks a lot!" Bodoni said. Suddenly, the central kemig communicator started ringing and beeping. All four turned toward it. "Another alien?" Ferrajalt asked. "Let's hope not," Bodoni said, turning toward the device. "If V and Nevrippa don't call in soon, we're in big trouble--we need them for this whole boat thing of yours, Prince." "Of mine?" Ferrajalt said. Bodoni switched on the kemig, and V Sincein appeared on the screen. They could see he was inside a moving vehicle. "V! Thank goodness it's you!" Bodoni said. "Um..." V said. "Sorry about not calling and not waiting for the others at that rendezvous point, but, uh..." Suddenly, the picture shook, and Nevrippa Den came into view. Looking back and forth from the road to the screen as she was driving. "Hi guys! Yeah, sorry about all the confusion. We're just doing some advanced looting--got a lot of great stuff in the van, so--" "Nevrippa--where are you? Vike and Treyess still haven't come back--and we have no way of calling them," Bodoni said. "Sorry kid," Nevrippa said. "We just didn't want to waste the battery. And we're coming back anyway--to unload the van, so we can come back out and get more stuff." "Nevrippa, uh... I mean, I don't know if, uh, looting is really the most important thing we need to be doing now, and, uh..." Bodoni said. "Oh, don't worry Injy. Once you see what we got, you'll see why we've been doing it. Okay? So we'll be back in about twenty minutes, if all the roads we think still exist do. Okay? Don't want to waste the battery any more. Bye!" the crazy girl said, and the screen went blank. "Damn!" Bodoni exclaimed. "Leave it to her! I could kill her!" "So could we," Treyess Arcomany said from the doorway. They all turned to see her and Vike Varmabey coming in. "Treyess!" Bodoni said. "Thank goodness you're back. I guess you just saw what happened to those two out there. Looting! Man!" "Well," Treyess said, coming into the room, "we did a little looting too. A lot of good stuff out there, you know." "Yeah," Vike said, "everything's shot to hell out there." Vike Varmabey was old. At least, he stood out in the young population of Aconck, and especially Overwhelm Associates. It seemed Fife's Primate Algorithm chose young, attractive people more often than not. Vike, though, was a more real, more honest sort of person. Heavy set, grizzled, gruff, but with a twinkle in his eyes. He wore lots of plaid and usually had some kind of hunter's cap on. No one had yet figured out what was so special about him, but his presence was always a salve to the raw nerves of his fellow Primates. Treyess Arcomany was an adventurer, full of life and charm. Her outfit was of soft silver, pleasing to the eye and not at all gaudy. She had simple straight blond hair and a look of supreme, yet humble, self confidence. Her full cloak, which she wore with grace, was where a bunch of faeries had stowed away as she returned to Overwhelm's Greatwall base a week earlier. The resulting faery infestation became such a fiasco that she came here to Timber Serious Earth to get away from it all--only to find herself in the middle of this dreadful reality collapse. "Okay everybody," Ledrant Hate said, standing on top of a couch. "I know I don't have to stress the dire situation that we're in--but thus far we've been aimlessly wandering--getting nowhere. Now that Treyess and Vike are back, I have to propose that, in Il Zillionthi's absence, I take command and plan our course of action. If anyone has a problem with that, please say so now. I'm doing this because no one else has." Everyone sort of looked in Injure Bodoni's direction, and he got the hint--he had been acting like the leader, but he wasn't doing such a good job. "Hey, no problem," he said, smiling in minor defeat as he mulled over his lack of decisiveness. The others nodded and mumbled their approval. "Okay," Hate said. "Here's the situation--we know that getting rid of Office Complex at Gumhanshire is our best bet at bringing reality back--and that somehow dragging the ocean liner in Citydock down the frozen river and over the waterfall--where it will hopefully smash right into the Office Complex--is our best shot. Now--Prince Ferrajalt pointed out to Injure that he hadn't put a time factor into his computer model--the one that verified the Office Complex theory. So Injure--first of all, could you make a model, specifically using the boat, and putting in a time factor?" "Yeah, no problem," Injure said, looking over his equipment. "Okay--how long do you think that will take?" Hate asked. "Um--well, it'll take a little longer than normal, but--um--I'd say definitely within a timeframe of 90 minutes." Hate nodded, obviously not happy with such a timeframe, but accepting it. "Okay," Hate said. "Now we need a team to go to that yard with the giant police cars, try and get one going, and then try and drive it down the river to the waterfall, and then see if Office Complex at Gumhanshire is still there, even." "Um, I'll do that, I guess," Ferrajalt said. "We're also going to need someone to head over to Citydock and see if that boat is still okay, and whether or not the transit mechanism is functioning." "I know the most about that boat," Vike said. "You know I went down there Havdays, had big cider with the boys, rode that sucker, just about every Havday." "Okay," Hate said. "Um--Ann--I don't know much about you, but can you help us?" "Certainly," the cat lady said. "Okay. Go over to the boat with Vike. Now how are you going to get there?" Hate said. "We can use the truck--the same one me and Treyess used to try and find those kooks," Vike said. Treyess looked at Hate. "Treyess--I want you to go with the Prince, if you don't mind," Hate said. "Good," Treyess said. "I've always wanted to drive a giant police car down a frozen river with a prince." "Okay," Hate said. "Normal communications are out. We don't have any portable kemigs here--V has the only one. I think we should wait for them to get back, and then, Prince, you and Treyess can use it on your mission. Unless--Ann, do you have any communication devices on you?" "Well sir," Ann said, "I don't have any hardware, but I should be able to mentally transit a kemig signal." Bodoni's mouth gaped open in wonder. "Y--you can... what?" the scientist asked. "I can do that, my friend," she said. "I--I--I--that's fabulous! I can't believe it! I mean--" "--okay Injure, enough," Hate said. "Ann--why not try and call our central kemig right now--I would very much like to keep in contact with the away teams." "Okay sir, here goes," Ann said. She closed her eyes and then licked her lips with her cat tongue for a moment. The lighting around the furry lady seemed to get a shade darker as she concentrated, and after a few seconds, the central kemig began to ring and beep wildly. "Well, answer it!" Hate yelled at Bodoni, who jumped over to the console and switched it on. A strange, almost cartoony image of Ann was on the screen, with an expectant look on her face. Across the room, Ann was lying down, curled up a little. "Hello?" Bodoni said. "Hi Injure," Ann's image said. "See, I told you I could do it, hon." "Incredible--how long could you maintain contact?" Bodoni asked. "As long as I like, but it's not easy," she said. "Haha! Incredible! I've never seen anything like it. How does--" Bodoni said. "--okay, enough Injure, the test is a success. Thank you Ann," Hate said. "Glad to be of service," Ann's image said, then the screen shut off and, across the room, Ann opened her eyes. "Haven't done that in a while," Ann said, her voice hoarse and groggy. Then she coughed a little cat cough. "Now--does anybody know what happened to Amnifaoz?" Hate asked. "He probably," Ann said, pausing to cough, her voice getting back to normal, "he's probably abandoned us. His word is worth little. And as he did several things to help out, he may feel that his debt to you has been paid. Still, he wouldn't harm us--that much of his word is good." "Okay," Hate said. "So let's figure him out of our plans for now. When V and Nevrippa get back, we'll have eight agents--though I don't know if Ms. Den will be much help in her deranged looting frenzy." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 2: OFFICE COMPLEX CHAPTER 9 SR-022 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 35 sr35 02.9.1--Warhome Discovery -------------------------- ============================== Prince Ferrajalt and Treyess Arcomany walked down a deserted street, their footsteps echoing strangely. "Do you think we'll ever get out of this, Prince?" He looked over at Treyess. "I don't know. I hope so. I just--I'm just fed up with all this supernatural crap, y'know? My home life wasn't perfect, and I had a lot of pressures being royalty and all--but I never had to deal with reality collapses, and weird cat ladies, and giant hypermonsters or whatever the hell that guy was--you're lucky you didn't see him. And that--that jerk, that girl who was a time traveller, and that guy who was her from the past--you didn't meet them either. But she came back in time to like--I don't know--like to have sex with herself or something." "Sounds like you had an eventful day," Treyess said. "Yeah, and then some. But I don't like it. I want normalcy. I want a world where things are the same every day, and people who you don't have to worry what kind of powers they have." "I know what you mean." They continued walking in silence. Soon, Treyess spoke up. "So where is this place? I thought you said it wasn't far?" "It's not that much farther. I thought we would have been there by now. I remembered it being much closer--otherwise I wouldn't have had Vike drop us off back there." "Well, I suppose that to an adventurer like me, this should all be pretty thrilling." "Is it?" Ferrajalt asked. "I don't know. I'm used to a different sort of adventure. Where you face the unknown, but the perils that assail you are at least understandable. But here--there are so many unanswered questions. I mean, what does it mean that 'reality collapsed'? We're still here, so it obviously didn't totally fall apart. And that little cat lady--I wish someone would tell me the story with her." "Haha. Yeah. I know. It's just like, everyone wants to be cool or something and not ask all these burning questions. I have no idea. I mean, she said this whole business," Ferrajalt said, waving his hand in an arc, "just sort of 'shook her out of the pepper shaker' or something. But what does that mean? And then, she seemed to be familiar with the Hypergod and his kind, and the fact that she could send a kemig signal with just her mind--I mean, what the hell is going on?" "Yeah." They continued on, passing a building with a statue above its entrance. The sculpture portrayed a woman in the act of getting dressed, half naked. Treyess stopped. "Now look at that," she said, pointing toward the statue. "That's not some statue which collapsed or fell apart--it's a whole new statue, and look at it--look at the detail--it's exactly what a finely manufactured statue should look like--but the subject matter! No--I see some intelligence behind it all." "Maybe that was what someone was doing when the crash happened, and reality got her and the statue mixed up, like getting its wires crossed?" "Hmm! Well I don't know. It's just that, I feel like there's a lot more going on than we're being told. I just have a feeling that little Injure is holding something from us." "I don't know," Ferrajalt said. "Maybe. From what I understand, though, he said that reality is like a system, where certain events trigger other events, and the whole thing is just an ongoing chain reaction--with checks and balances keeping it on the right path. But here--it's just like things have ground to a halt. Nothing to prevent a statue like that from just existing over there. Nothing to prevent giant police cars from existing." "Yeah--speaking of them, I hope we get there soon. I feel naked out here in the open like this." Ferrajalt glanced at Treyess. "No, I think we should get there soon. See that bridge between those two buildings up there? I know I saw that right after I saw the yard." "Good." "So maybe," Ferrajalt said, "if we can get one of those things started, and if a road to the river still exists, and if we don't fall through the ice, and if the river still exists, and if Doscovor still exists, and if--" "--that's a lot of 'ifs', kid," Treyess responded. "Yeah--and what made you think the river is frozen all the way through, anyway?" "Well--I know it doesn't seem all that cold, but there's this stream sort of thing--a waterway or something, you know, that runs by our offices, and I looked down at it and saw it was frozen, and I even threw a motorcycle at it, and it didn't even scratch the surface. So I figured the river was the same way." "When did you do this? You actually picked up a motorcycle and--" "--no, no. It was there, and I just rolled it over the edge. Didn't want to waste my superstrenth hang. But I tellya--it was like it hit solid rock. It's gotta be something with this reality collapse, with like time stopping or being suspended, with water that doesn't move at all--totally static." "Huh. Well, for our sakes, I hope so." "I don't know," Ferrajalt said. "Those police cars looked pretty tough--as if they could handle any situation, maybe even water, y'know, amphibious. To tell you the truth, part of the reason I wanted to do this boat thing was so I could get to one of those giant police cars and drive it." "Well, let's just hope they're more than decoration." "Yeah. Hey! Look up there--see that fence--they're right behind that! You should be able to see them in a second!" "Where?" Treyess asked. "Oh yeah! Up there? That wasn't so long--sorry for bitching about it." "Hey, no problem--let's just get up there." The two jogged up to the fence surrounding the yard, and indeed, there were hundreds of giant police cars inside. Bigger than tanks, but similarly built, these vehicles had four huge wheels, a ladder leading up to the cockpit, enormous police lights on top, and a variety of other cool features. "See? Aren't they awesome?" Ferrajalt said. "Well Prince, you know, I have to agree. But how do we get in?" There was no visible opening in the fence, and it was 20 or 30 feet high. "I guess I'll just have to use a little superstrength." "Does that even still work?" "Well Treyess, there's only one way to find out. Super!" Ferrajalt held his hands up and breathed heavily. "You okay, kid?" "Yeah--it's working, I think. Just slower than usual. Stand back, eh?" Treyess stepped away, and Ferrajalt swept his arm in front of him, wrecking a portion of the fence with ease. He ripped a hole through the wrecked fence, and then stepped back. "That should do it," he said. "For us--but what about the cars?" "Hmm--think I should destroy that much fence? Or just use one of the cars to do it?" "Well, I guess we can use one of the cars--or find an exit somewhere." "Okay," Ferrajalt said as he climbed through the hole. Treyess followed as Ferrajalt stood surveying the wonderful vista of vehicles. "What do they say on the side?" Treyess asked. "I don't know--I think it's just the Derolbam Police Force regular emblem. But let's find out!" Ferrajalt strode up to the nearest behemoth vehicle. "Yup," he said. "Just like a regular police car, only..." "...bigger," Treyess said with a grin. "Yeah. Well, c'mon," Ferrajalt said, grabbing onto the ladder on the side of the vehicle. "We might as well see if this trip was worth it. "Coming," Treyess said, as Ferrajalt climbed the ladder. At the top, the Prince stepped onto a platform which circled the vehicle two-thirds of the way up. He walked forward a little, and found a door leading into the cockpit area. He tried it, and found it unlocked. "Come on Treyess! It's open!" "Coming, coming! Keep your shirt on!" she said in a friendly manner, smiling. Stepping down into the cockpit, Ferrajalt was hit with that "new car" smell. And indeed--everything about the vehicle seemed to be brand new. Treyess appeared at the doorway. "This is convenient," she said, jumping in. "Okay--now to find the controls," Ferrajalt said, looking around, when his eyes hit what was unmistakably the driver's seat. It was a huge, comfy looking seat surrounded with all sorts of controls. He looked over at Treyess. "Be my guest!" she said, motioning toward the seat. Ferrajalt walked over with a smile on his face and sat down. He scanned over the controls and sighed. "Now if I could only find the keys..." "Ahem," said Treyess, as she pointed above Ferrajalt's head, where a set of keys was dangling on a hook. Ferrajalt looked up and grabbed the keys. "Thanks," he said with an embarrassed smile. "Now--I guess this is the main ignition. Um... I guess the big key is the one. Here goes!" Treyess started to say "Wait!" but she stopped herself. Why would the thing be rigged to blow up? Just let the kid have his fun. Ferrajalt turned the key, and suddenly an array of fluorescent lights flickered and powered up, and the sound of multiple fans and motors came as well. Ferrajalt stopped and held his hands over the controls. "Okay--I guess that was main electrical." "You sure you know how to drive this thing?" Treyess asked, raising an eyebrow. The Prince turned toward her. "Let me tell you--my parents made me drive a thing a heck of a lot bigger than this, and I managed. It was different, but I'm sure a lot of the same control mechanisms apply. And I like this thing much better." He turned back to the controls. Treyess spied a door in the back of the cockpit. "I'm going to take a look back there, okay?" "Yeah, fine. Good. We gotta see what this thing has going for it." Treyess opened the door and marveled at the scene before her. Lit with fluorescent lights, she gazed in wonder at the bay--a space which took up the top half of the vehicle. Ahead of her, a short walkway led to a central shaft. Looking up, she saw the underside of a diminutive biplane, covered with the same black-and-white markings as the police car itself. It was just above where the shaft ended. She walked forward and looked down the space surrounding the shaft, and she saw a tiny submarine at the very bottom, decked out in similar markings. Halfway down the shaft, she saw a landing which led to a number of doors. Continuing on past the shaft, Treyess saw a rear viewport with a large gun mounted above it. There were two more guns facing front, she saw, and one on either side. Huh. Then she looked down to her left and saw a police motorcycle in a little dock. She moved to the right of the walkway, and looked down to see a nice little police speedboat. Whoever made this thing seemed to have all the bases covered. She turned around and climbed down the ladder to a circular landing, and saw that there were five doors--one toward the back, two toward the sides, and two toward the front. All were made of wood, ornately carved and wonderfully finished. She tried the one facing the back and found it unlocked. But before she opened the door, she gazed at an array of information panels and a large opening in the shaft at this level. There were what appeared to be indicators, arranged in a rough "periodic chart of the elements", appearing at first glance to show varying amounts of different elements. She raised her eyebrows, figuring the thing deserved more investigation in the future. Then she turned back toward the door. As she opened it, a battery of lovely, soft lights came on in the room she now stood at the threshold of. And she took a sharp intake of air in surprise--it was a magnificent master bedroom sort of space. There was a lush black-and-white patterned carpet, a bar stocked with a variety of bottles, an enormous bed, a couch facing an electronic entertainment center, and an open door through which she could see a grandly-adorned bathroom. And everything was in the color scheme of the black-and-white police car, with the gold and multicolored police emblem. A lit panel near the bed attracted her attention, and she walked over to it, noting how soft and comfortable the carpeting was. As she approached the panel, she saw it was comprised of about 20 or 30 little backlit photographs of a variety of locations--from forests to cities to deserts to tropical paradises. Smiling, Treyess sat on the bed and reached out and touched the rain forest image, and all of a sudden the lights dimmed, and sounds of birds, insects, and other creatures filled the room. A few moments later, the walls and ceiling faded into view with images of trees and plants, and a pleasing, pungent smell came to her. "How wonderful!" Treyess said under her breath, as the illusion of being in a rain forest began to swim in her mind. After about a minute, a rumbling sound and vibration broke Treyess out of her relaxation, and she jumped up off the bed. Ferrajalt must have gotten the thing started. Reluctantly, she started forward, but looked back at the control panel, wondering how to turn it off. But then she figured it wouldn't do any harm to leave it on, so she turned back and left the room. As she climbed up the ladder, she saw Ferrajalt poking his head into the bay. "Hey Treyess! I got the thing started--whoah!" "I know, pretty cool, eh?" she said, stepping onto the main walkway from the ladder. "Holy crap!" Ferrajalt said, looking up at the plane. "Look at that! A plane! I wonder if it can really fly?" "There's also a submarine, a speedboat, and a motorcycle. And just wait till you see what I found downstairs." "This is so cool," Ferrajalt said, staring wildly in wonder. "I can't believe it's so cool." "I know," Treyess said as she approached Ferrajalt. "So at least something good has come of all this world collapse crap." "Yeah," the Prince said distantly, as he withdrew back into the cockpit to allow Treyess to pass through the doorway. "So you got it started?" Treyess asked. "I sure did!" Ferrajalt responded. "And you know what--I think from what I've seen that this thing is powered by direct matter-to-energy conversion!" "Yeah, I saw something down there which would point to that conclusion also. Some sort of atomic device." "Awesome!" Ferrajalt said, easing back into the driver's seat. Treyess took one of the passenger seats beside him. "Think we should call the others and tell them we got this far?" Treyess asked, crossing her arms and resting them on the dashboard in front of her. "I guess so," Ferrajalt said, taking the gun out of its holster on his belt, and turning it over to reveal the screen at the base of its handle. He entered a code on some buttons and after a few moments, the screen lit up with Injure Bodoni's face. "Hello? Ferrajalt?" Bodoni inquired. "Yes, it's me. We successfully entered and started one of the giant police cars. It's a really amazing thing," Ferrajalt said. "Good. So you're now off to the river?" Bodoni asked, and then Ledrant Hate came into view behind him. "Yeah," Ferrajalt said. "We're gonna try and get this thing moving and get down to the river." "You've examined the vehicle?" Hate asked. "Well, Treyess saw more of it than I did. Here," Ferrajalt said as he passed the gun to Treyess. "I have to tell you Ledrant, this is one of the most incredible things I've ever seen. There's a whole fleet of these things here and--I don't even know where to begin. There's all these little vehicles inside, and this room! There's a luxury suite down there with all sorts of amenities. I haven't even gone through the whole thing yet." "Armaments?" Hate asked. "Well,", she said, "there are five pretty formidable-looking mounted guns all around the thing. And who knows what else might be hidden about. Also, we think it's powered with a direct matter-to-energy reactor." Hate frowned. "Sounds too good to be true," he said. "Just get it moving and on the road and call me back, okay? That's the big hurdle. Don't want to waste your kemig battery." "Okay," Treyess said, and the screen went blank. "Well Treyess," Ferrajalt said, "here goes. I guess we may as well get going. Wish me luck." Treyess leaned over and gave Ferrajalt a kiss on the cheek. "Good luck, Prince." Ferrajalt hit the throttle and they began moving forward. "Alright! It works!" Prince Ferrajalt exclaimed as the giant police car smoothly started to move forward. Beside him, Treyess Arcomany grabbed the dashboard for support, but let go when she saw how smooth the ride was. "Now we have to find a way out of this lot," she said. "I know," Ferrajalt responded, and just then he noticed a little screen off to his left, which had lit up with a variety of patterns and symbols. "We'll just have to circle the entire perimeter and look for an opening. They moved out of their spot, and then Ferrajalt carefully eased the massive vehicle to the right. It responded splendidly. He then set forth between the fence and the rows and rows of giant police cars--all identical to the one they were in. "There sure are a lot of them," Treyess said, looking over. "Yeah--amazing how such a useful thing was created in this supposedly random reality crash." "I'm sure it's not random. It can't be." Then Ferrajalt glanced at the screen again and he could see it showed a red 3-D vector representation of his vehicle driving along the fence--and another image showed an overall view of the yard, showing that there were no breaks in the fence at all--except a little spot that was lit up--the place he had personally ripped open. "You know," Ferrajalt said, "I think we have some kind of guidance system here. The only problem is, it's showing that there aren't any exits out of here--no, wait..." The screen vectors changed from red to an aquamarine sort of color, and he saw an image of the giant police car firing its cannon at the fence, cutting a neat hole in it, and driving through. Next to it was a picture of an aquamarine, crescent-shaped button--a button that he saw on the console in front of him. "What is it?" Treyess asked. "It looks like it's giving me the best option. Guess all I have to do is press that button--see?" "Go for it." So Ferrajalt pressed the button, and the giant police car eased into autopilot, moving forward a little more, then making a sharp right turn, then backing up a little, facing the fence. Before even a second had passed, a barrage of noisy, bright projectiles or beams spat out from above them and annihilated a whole section of fence. Then the screen turned red again and all was quiet as smoke and mist from the destroyed fence began to drift away. Ferrajalt laughed. "Pretty cool, eh?" he said. "I like this giant police car--or whatever it's called. There's no way I'm leaving this place without one--no way!" Treyess looked up at a plaque she had seen before, above the door which led into the back of the vehicle. It was a logo which read simply "WARHOME". Yes--that made some kind of sense to her. "From what I see up there," she said, nodding toward the plaque, "this is a Warhome. Good name." "Yeah?" the Prince said, turning and looking. "That sounds good." "You haven't seen the downstairs yet. Once you do you'll see why it could be considered a home, no problem." "Yeah--you know what? I want to go back there. Um--let me just drive it out to the road, then we can go back and see exactly what's going on, eh?" "Sounds good to me," Treyess said. So he drove the Warhome out into the street and turned it toward the river. There was very little room to spare on the two-lane road. Then he looked around for some sort of safety brake, but figured the thing must be smart enough not to start rolling down the hill. So he got up and followed Treyess into the back of the Warhome. The first thing Ferrajalt did was climb up the shaft to inspect the tiny biplane. "Man, I'd really like to see if this thing flies." "I'm sure it does, Prince. Otherwise, why would it be there?" Ferrajalt looked all the way down to the other end of the shaft, where the little submarine was. "Looks like they thought of everything," he said. "Land, air, water, and underwater. Guess this thing's a boat too--amphibious, like I guessed." "Probably. Now come on down from there!" Treyess said. "You just have to see the main bedroom!" "Okay! Coming, coming." He climbed down and followed her into the large room. The rain forest program was still playing. "Whoah!" Ferrajalt said. "What the heck is this?" "It's just one of many environment programs this place has," Treyess said, jumping onto the bed and looking over the control panel with all the backlit photos. "Here--this should show you the room without any special effects." She pressed a button depicting an image of the room itself, and the rain forest effects gently faded away. "Whoah," the Prince said. "Isn't it wonderful? The ultimate motor home," Treyess said, smiling and bouncing on the bed. Ferrajalt glanced at her, and walked over beside her, eyeing the control panel. "I see," he said. "Let's try another one--how about an amusement park?" He touched the image of an amusement park, and the program slowly kicked in. Soon, images and smells of a sunny day in an amusement park surrounded them, complete with images of two roller coasters and a giant Ferris wheel in the distance. The smell of cotton candy made Ferrajalt crave it. "This is truly unbelievable," Ferrajalt said, sitting next to Treyess on the bed, but making sure not to get too close. There was a lot of sexual tension going on. "I wish we could get some of that cotton candy. I'm starved." Treyess turned to look at the Prince. "I'm sure there's a kitchen in here somewhere--there has to be." Ferrajalt got up. "You didn't check the other rooms yet?" "Nope. This one kind of took the wind out of my sails. I could just lounge around in here forever!" she said, lying back on the bed, spreading out her arms. Ferrajalt regarded her for a moment, then turned toward the door. "I'm going to check those other rooms," he said. "Okay." Ferrajalt walked out of the room and regarded the mechanism facing him on the shaft. Some sort of grated opening, angled upward, and a whole mess of little indicators--arranged like a "periodic table of the elements". Each little needle showed a varying amount of whatever it was measuring. And while Ferrajalt had surmised that the Warhome operated on direct matter-to-energy power, he had no idea why so many different elements should be needed. He made a mental note to look into it further and opened the door to his left. Inside he found another bathroom, complete with shower, sink, toilet, and a few other devices he could only guess at the use of. Then he crossed to the righthand side and found another living quarters--this one considerably smaller and plainer than the main one. He entered and looked about, and Treyess came in behind him. "Guest bedroom?" she wondered. "Looks like it," Ferrajalt said. They looked around in admiring wonder and then went for the remaining two doors, each facing front. Treyess went to the one on the left, and Ferrajalt the one on the right. They smiled at each other. "Okay," Treyess said. "On the count of three." Ferrajalt laughed, and they opened their respective doors. Ferrajalt found the kitchen he had been looking for--and a quick inspection found it stocked to the gills with food, appliances, and other goodies. Treyess stepped into a strange room--part library and part armory. A computer terminal sat in one corner. There were all manner of weapons here--from swords and cat-o-nine-tails to some very nasty looking rifles, rocket launchers, grenades, pistols, and the like. She scanned over the books and saw that they were all Timber Serious Earth works--the classics, she supposed. Ferrajalt came into the room behind her. "Found the kitchen," he said. "And look what I found." "Wow! Think there's enough weapons in here for us?" "Oh Ferrajalt--just think--there are hundreds of these in that yard over there. What a magnificent find!" "Yeah--but will they still be there when and if we get reality back on track?" "Well I'm with you--if restoring reality means leaving our Warhome behind, forget it. I'd rather travel around this wasteland inside here than give it up." "I agree," Ferrajalt said. "It's something I've always wanted." "Yeah?" "Yeah--a private home," the Prince said. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 2: OFFICE COMPLEX CHAPTER 10 SR-023 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 37 sr37 02.9.2--Dog & Rabbit -------------------------- ============================== "The river," Prince Ferrajalt said, looking at the vector display to his right, sitting in the driver's seat of the Warhome. "Where?" Treyess Arcomany asked. "Coming right up--I guess this baby is constantly scanning the surrounding area. It even shows the river being frozen, even though it's not cold enough. See, some sort of anomaly reading by the river..." "Huh." The enormous vehicle rounded a corner and crashed over a small fence, out onto a dock. "Prince..." Treyess said, as they sped toward the end of the dock. Ferrajalt looked over at Treyess for a moment. "No problem," he said, smiling. Treyess raised her eyebrows and wore a frown of puzzlement, nodding and grabbing the arms of her seat. In a moment, the Warhome flew off the edge of the dock and then slammed onto the frozen river an instant later. Ferrajalt gently braked, and the huge thing quickly skidded to a halt. The two surveyed the glassy, ultrasmooth surface of the frozen river, lit in the eerie glow of the giant streetlights that lined its banks. "Now this is more like it," Treyess said. "Yeah..." Ferrajalt said. "But which way to the waterfall?" "You think I know after all the twists and turns we had to take to get here? Doesn't your little viewscreen tell you?" Ferrajalt checked the vector display. "No." "Huh. Well everything is so changed anyway, I don't know if--" "--no wait--it's coming up on the display. See? It's so cool! A 3-D map of the river!" "There ya go." "So it's down, uh, that way," Ferrajalt said, pointing. Treyess looked over at Ferrajalt, and the Prince noted the beauty of her eyes. After a pause, Treyess said "So now we get to see if this office complex thing is still there." "Yeah," Ferrajalt said, turning back to the river, and easing forward on the controls. The Warhome's wheels spun a little, but then some sort of traction control kicked in, and they were cruising along at a fair pace. Treyess looked around, at the surreal landscape all around them--giant streetlights, river like a mirror, creepy shapes on either bank, and the feeling of being nowhere. "Now remember, there is a waterfall coming up sometime," she said. "We don't want to go over it." "I know," Ferrajalt said. "I don't think we're near it yet, and I'm sure the Warhome will detect it and start blinking and beeping all over the place." "I sure hope so," Treyess said, not at all sure they should depend on the new Warhome in this situation, but not wanting to insult the Prince's handling of the matter. They drove on in silence for a while, then Ferrajalt spoke. "So what do you think is really going to happen to us? I used to have a good life. I mean, I was a Prince--I am a Prince. Back on my Earth. I mean, I thought it was all bullshit, I had all these ideas, like why should we be so much better than commoners? All that. But right now, I don't know. I kind of wish I was back there." "Well to me, this is pure adventure--and that's what I live for. Back on my Earth I was quite well-known, also. Our technology hasn't developed quite as smoothly as on all you guys' Earths. I mean, the internal combustion engine, flight, all that we just recently got going. And computers, forget it--they might have the first building-sized prototype going in a few years. So there are a lot of places on my Earth where it's very difficult, maybe even impossible, to get to. And adventure was popular. I was popular. And there's some weird stuff on my Earth, weird hidden places." "But what's this?" Ferrajalt asked, waving his hand. "Look around--this isn't anything! It's a nightmare. It has no relation to anything. It's like the universe ended and we just don't know it yet. Yeah--maybe all this is just a hallucination." Treyess studied Ferrajalt's face. He had potential. You could see somewhere in there ancestors who were great heroes, great warriors. But he needed to stop being such a wimp. "Well you know," Treyess said, "from what I read, this may have happened once before--in Sweptim. I guess this is what happened. They said that a whole bunch of Earths, maybe all of them, were somehow destroyed, and how they managed to salvage Red Alley Earth, but nothing else." "And maybe this time it'll be only Timber Serious Earth that gets saved. Then I could never go home." "Oh come on, Prince. Don't despair--this may not be the same sort of phenomenon at all--I was just saying. And remember--Fife created his Earth searching system and the whole Primate thing so that if something like this happened, there might be enough remarkable talents to find a solution. And remember--you are a Primate, and there is a reason for that. We're both Primates, the ones who got chosen over everyone else on our Earths." "I wish I knew why. There are a lot of other royal families of my planet--why me?" "I'm sure we'll find out, someday." Ferrajalt nodded, but stopped nodding as they came to a big bend on the river. He carefully steered to the right, and it seemed that they'd start skidding and going out of control at any moment, but they didn't. "Easy!" Treyess exclaimed. "I know! I know!" Ferrajalt said, gripping the control unit and looking pale. "So how that hell is the boat supposed to make that goddamn corner?" "We'll find some way." "I don't see how! You know how big that thing is? It's big!" "Ferrajalt--get a hold of yourself! This isn't a totally random situation--just look at this vehicle of ours! There has to be a higher structure to it. I have a gut feeling that we can get the boat around the corner." "Well I hope so," Ferrajalt said, and then another curve came up, this one to the left. "Oh great! Another one!" Treyess sighed and shook her head. Ferrajalt was more careful with this curve, but it was more pronounced than the previous one. And they were going awfully fast. "Ferrajalt--you say you don't like adventure, but look how fast you're driving down this frozen river toward a waterfall!" "I know, I know! It's hard to make this thing go slow." The two stopped talking as a huge hulking shape loomed ahead on the right riverbank. "What the hell is that?" Ferrajalt asked. "What? Yeah... Looks like a building maybe? A mountain? No..." Then a sharp beeping started, and Ferrajalt looked down at the vector display--it showed the huge drop coming up--the waterfall. The Prince immediately hit the brakes. "We're almost there!" he said, and the Warhome lurched to a halt. Treyess looked at him. "I don't see it." "I know! But I don't want to risk getting too close and not being able to stop." "Huh," Treyess said, looking around. "So how are we going to see about that office complex and everything?" Ferrajalt took a deep breath and let it out. His heart was racing. "Um," he said, "let me think." "Okay." "Okay. I think... we should... take the biplane." "What?" Treyess asked. Ferrajalt looked at Treyess. "That plane back there. We could fly it over the waterfall and get a close look at that office complex." "Do you know how to fly?" "Well--I flew a glider a few times. Besides--considering how easy this thing was to drive, how hard could the plane be?" "Let me think this through--it sounds good at first glance, but I don't know..." "The thing is," Ferrajalt said, "I just don't want to get this thing anywhere near the drop. We could walk it..." "Oh no! I'm not standing on that slippery ice on the edge of a fatal fall." Ferrajalt stood up. "So you wanna take the plane?" he said. "You can fly it if you want to. I know I hogged the controls here." "Oh--that's no problem. But you know, that plane looks like the sort of planes we have back home--real primitive. But there's no way it flies with the same mechanics. It's too small. But I will give it a shot," Treyess said, also getting up. "Okay," Ferrajalt said, moving to the door. "I'm pretty sure it holds two people." "Yeah?" Treyess said, following him. They walked into the main chamber of the Warhome, and Ferrajalt let Treyess climb the ladder on the central shaft first. "Okay, now to figure out how to get in here," Treyess said as Ferrajalt looked up at her. "Need help?" "No--I got it," she said, planting her right boot on a small foothold on the plane and lifting herself up and over the edge. "Yeah--I've got it." "Is there room for me?" "Um--wait a second," Treyess said as she sat down and settled herself in. "Well, it's a tight fit, but there's room." Ferrajalt began climbing the ladder. "Wait a second," Treyess said. "I need a key. Weren't there some other keys on that keyring you found?" The Prince stopped. "Oh yeah. I guess there must be one for each vehicle. I'll go get it." "Cool." Ferrajalt went back to his driver's seat and tried to figure out what to do--he didn't want to shut the Warhome off, but he couldn't see any easy way of getting the other keys off the ring. As well, there were seven keys in all--and he wasn't sure which one was the right one. So he sat down in the seat and took a close look at the keys. And upon this closer examination, he saw little engraved pictures of the various vehicles--the Warhome, the biplane, the submarine, the motorcycle, the speedboat, a door, and one--one which just had a little circle on it. Also, he saw that each key had a little latch on it where you could disconnect it from the keyring. So he carefully flicked the mechanism, and released the biplane key. With it in hand, he rush back to the ladder and back to Treyess. "Got it," Ferrajalt said, as he climbed up to the biplane docking area. He saw that Treyess was wearing some sort of police helmet. "Great," Treyess said, taking the key from him. "I think I got this thing figured out." Ferrajalt looked for where he could sit, and saw that it was just one long seat inside the plane, and not much room to spare. Treyess saw the Prince contemplating the seating arrangements. "Hop in," she said. "Pretty close quarters, but it'll do." So Ferrajalt climbed in, and straddled the seat--with Treyess sitting between his knees. "Here," Treyess said, handing him a helmet. "And strap in." Ferrajalt put the helmet on and fastened a couple of safety belts over himself. "Well. Here goes," Treyess said, inserting the key and turning it. Instantly, the cockpit control panel lit up with a number of display panels, and the dome above them began to recede, revealing the black, starless sky above. "So far so good," Ferrajalt said. "Okay. I think I have the hang of this. So if I hit--this!" Treyess said, and all of a sudden the plane began slowly moving upward. Ferrajalt looked down to see what was lifting them up, but in a moment, they were high enough for it to be clear that the plane was hovering on its own power. After a few more moments, a chime sounded and a deep mechanical sound reverberated through the aircraft. "Okay," Treyess said. "Now we can point it in any direction--see?" She moved the control stick, and they rotated, while remaining perfectly level. She went back and forth a few times, and then pointed it back straight ahead. "And with this," she said, easing forward the throttle, "we should be flying!" And slowly, they started moving forward. "Somehow, I don't think that propeller is doing much of the work," Ferrajalt said, commenting on the silently spinning propeller on the front of the plane. "Just decoration, maybe." "Yeah." Treyess increased the throttle and they began to fly faster. Then she pulled back on the stick. As they gained altitude and speed with great rapidity, Ferrajalt grabbed Treyess around the waist, reflexively. It felt good to be so close to her. "Take it easy kid!" she said. "I know what I'm doing!" And with a laugh, Treyess poured on the power and they soared skyward at a steep angle. Ferrajalt grabbed tighter--he wondered if that's why Treyess was flying so crazy. Treyess's long blond hair was whipping in the Prince's face, and he breathed in the clean smell of it. Then he exhaled and leaned into Treyess a little more. He was thinking, this is love--this is really love! He thought, without her helmet, all he'd be seeing was hair. A universe of Treyess hair... But his pleasant thoughts were interrupted by the mammoth structure they had spied from the Warhome--it was now directly beneath them and to the right. "You wanna check that out?" Ferrajalt yelled against the wind, but then he realized that there was a communication system in the helmets. "Ouch! You don't have to yell! But yeah--let's see what it is!" Treyess steered the biplane into a spiral descent, and approached the huge structure. "This thing is so fun to fly!" she said. "And, I mean, like you said, we're not leaving this place without our Warhome!" "No way," Ferrajalt said, and he had a flash sequence of images of himself and Treyess sharing the Warhome as a loving couple. But once again, these tender, electrifying thoughts were interrupted by the brutal reality of their surroundings. The thing in front of them was gigantic. It looked like a cross between a mountain, an unfinished skyscraper, and an enormous thorn bush. The lighting as it was, it was hard to make out details. "What the fuck is it?" Ferrajalt asked. "An adventure?" Treyess responded. Prince Ferrajalt held tightly onto Treyess Arcomany as she flew their little biplane into the heart of the massive, horrific structure. "I can't tell!" Ferrajalt said. "Are we gonna hit it--or is there space inside it?" "I don't know!" Treyess said. "But the instruments are showing a bunch of entryways--I'm gonna take the best-looking one." "Okay." So they flew into a gaping hole in the side of the thing, and were inside. As soon as they entered, a battery of spotlights on the biplane kicked in and lit the dark, twisted spaces around them. They were in some sort of main corridor, with jagged bramblelike protrusions coming from all angles. "Uh... Ferrajalt... All sorts of decisions up ahead. What should we do?" "What do you mean?" "The display--it shows a bunch of branchings up ahead." "Well, try and take the biggest one!" "Okay, I'll try, Prince." As Treyess steered the plane toward the largest of the upcoming passageways, something came briefly into view. It was a scene, only visible for a second or two. It was tough to tell which direction it came from, or if they were seeing something real or projected, but see it they did. What they saw was a dog and a rabbit fighting. It was a nice, well groomed dog, a collie, which looked like it would have been a fine family companion in other circumstances. Here, it was frightful, teeth bared, in a rage, full of fear and assault. The rabbit was a little gray fellow, unassuming, but clearly possessing more ferocity than was readily apparent. It was a horrible, frightening scene. The two animals were consumed with the passion of their struggle, each wanting nothing more than to kill the other, each fearing it would fall to the other at any moment. Both Treyess and Ferrajalt were sobered by the image. Sobered, and drained--feeling like they'd just woken up from a particularly nasty nightmare, all shaken and paranoid. "Treyess! Did you see that!" "Uhh... Yes Prince, I did." "What the hell was that?" "I don't know--a dog and a rabbit--fighting." "Let's get the fuck out of this thing!" "I couldn't, uhh, I couldn't agree with you more!" With this, Treyess eased back on the throttle and the plane came to dead stop in midair, as she thought it would. Then she swung it around, and headed out the same way they had come in. "Are you sure you know the way out?" Ferrajalt asked. "I think--yeah--the display has the way marked in green--not to worry, Prince." "Good. Let's just get the hell out of here!" And in less than a minute, they were out of the hulking construct, and back in the cool dark air of destroyed reality. "That," Ferrajalt said, panting, "was not cool." "Not hardly," Treyess responded. "What the fuck was that all about?" "I don't know and I don't want to know--some sort of horrible evil, something beyond our comprehension. Prince, I think we saw something back there that we shouldn't have." "Well who knows what sort of madness has come to exist, now that reality is no more," Ferrajalt said, trying to sound calm and in control, to reassure Treyess. "I just don't like it. That wasn't adventure, that was just--I don't know--just pure horror." "I know, I know." "So where are we going?" she asked. "I think I'm headed downriver, but I'm not even sure anymore!" "You want me to fly? We still have to check Doscovor. You can set 'er down on the river and we can switch places if you want and I'll fly us down there." "Okay--do you mind? I'm just a little too shaken. Sure you don't mind?" "No--no problem Treyess. We're teammates--we have to help each other out, right?" "Right," Treyess said sweetly, and she pointed the little biplane downwards, and soon landed on the frozen river. "Well," Ferrajalt said as he was getting out of the plane, "at least we won't always be wondering what was in that thing. Even though--I might rather not have known." Treyess chuckled a little as she got out of the plane also. "How do you know that was all that was in there?" she asked. "I don't know, but I did get the feeling that that was pretty much the heart of the matter--the unspeakable." "Yeah." Treyess walked a short distance away from the plane. "Just gotta stretch my legs a little," she said. "Yeah." So they rested there, on the frozen river, and breathed in the air which had more energy in it than they might have imagined. And they spoke and got to know each other better. And they almost kissed, but Treyess pointed out that they had to continue on in their mission, and Ferrajalt agreed. So they got back in the plane, and took off downriver toward where Doscovor might still be. Soon the vector display was flashing wildly, heralding the huge drop up ahead which was, of course, the waterfall. And indeed, half a minute later, they flew over the frozen waterfall--an amazing sight to see--all that raw force of nature frozen up and stopped dead in its tracks. But it was the city across from the waterfall with which the two were most interested. "Doscovor!" Treyess said. "And--look at that! Office Complex at Gumhanshire Prefecture!" Ferrajalt responded, staring at the huge, complex building--all lit up, as if nothing was wrong. "So what do you think, Prince? Should we check it out? If there are any people in it, we should evac them before we cream the sucker, no?" "Sounds like the right thing to do," Ferrajalt said with a chuckle. So they quickly crossed the bay and landed carefully on one of the roofs of the doomed building. "Well here we are!" Treyess said. "This sucker's gonna get an ocean liner smack in the face before too long!" "You got it!" Ferrajalt said, taking off his helmet and jumping out of the biplane. "Wow!" Treyess said, likewise stepping out of the plane and removing her helmet. "Look at the view from up here. Look at that waterfall." "Yeah--just imagine seeing the flashing lights and hearing the sirens of all those Warhomes just before that boat comes flying across the bay--I mean--the whole thing's gonna happen so fast." "Yeah." "Oh, I almost forgot," Ferrajalt said, taking his gun out of its holster. "Gotta call back to the base. Let Ledrant know what we've found." "Yeah--what's the deal with that thing anyway? Why don't we all have one?" "Extremely limited battery life. But they're working on it. You think it's easy to generate a kemig signal in such a small object as a gun?" Treyess smiled and nodded as Ferrajalt punched a few buttons and then looked into the screen at the base of the hilt. After a few muted ringing noises, the tiny image of Injure Bodoni faded in. "Ferrajalt? Is that you?" "Yes Injure, it's me." "How far have you gotten down the river?" Ferrajalt took a deep breath. "Look Injure--could you please get Ledrant? I don't want to say all this twice--you know more than me about the battery life of these things." "Well--Ledrant is indisposed at the moment but I will relate all the information you give me." "Fine! Fine! Okay--we're on top of Office Complex at Gumhanshire--right on top of it. We flew over on that plane we told you about. The lights are on in the building, but we haven't seen any signs of people yet." "Does that matter?" Injure asked, rubbing his nose. "What do you mean does that matter--of course it matters! We can't just kill people!" "Oh," Injure said dumbly. "So just tell Ledrant that we're gonna check for people, and then head back--and tell him to go over to that yard and get some more Warhomes--the giant police cars--they're pretty easy to drive, no problem." "Okay, Ferrajalt. I'll tell him all that." "Okay thanks," Ferrajalt said tersely as he cut off the connection. "That guy is a real dick," Treyess said. "You're telling me." The two stood, several yards apart, staring at each other. Finally Treyess spoke. "So now that we're here on the roof, what are we supposed to do?" Ferrajalt thought for a moment, then looked over to the vector display on the biplane control panel. On the screen was a 3-D representation of the building, with two bright yellow dots where he and Treyess were. "Maybe that's our answer," he said. "Looks like that sucker can detect people." "Maybe it's just seeing us because we're its owners." Ferrajalt regarded Treyess. "Maybe. So let's see if we can expand the scope of its scan--maybe it can reach all the way back to Derolbam and see the others." "You really think it could reach that far?" "If it's in communication with the Warhome, which I assume it is, I think it could give us an overall scan." "Give it a shot, my Prince." So Ferrajalt leaned over the side of the plane and began to fiddle with some knobs near the screen. At first there was no reaction, but then the scene zoomed out, and there was the faint outline of the bay and the waterfall. In another second, it had zoomed back so far that the Warhome was represented with a dull, green, pulsing square. Finally, it pulled back much further, and there was a cluster of yellow pinpoints in Derolbam, and the two, Treyess and Ferrajalt, there in Doscovor. And there was one more, a solitary light way off to the east. "Hmm," the Prince said. "Very impressive. Guess that kills any notion of people being around here. But there IS that one stray point out there. Hmm." "Well we can check that out later," Treyess said. "For now I just want to get back to that Warhome and take a nice hot shower and relax a little." "Oh yeah?" "Yeah--oh, wait a second!" Treyess said as she skipped away a little. "I just have to get something--wait here!" "What is it? What the--where are you going?" "I'll be back in a minute!" Treyess said, as she descended a ladder on the side of the roof. Ferrajalt ran over and looked down the ladder. "What the hell?" he muttered, and a moment later he heard the sound of glass shattering. "Treyess! Are you okay?" "I'm fine! I'm fine! I just have to get something!" "Okay--but be quick about it." Ferrajalt meandered back to the plane, looking up at the waterfall and mulling over the vision they saw in the weird mountain. He just couldn't get over it--the dog and the rabbit--what could it mean? And beyond that, of course, there was Treyess. As a Royal, Ferrajalt was used to girls fawning over him, but in Treyess, he knew he had found his equal. So what if she was so much older than him? How much older could she have been anyway? Ten years? Twelve years? It didn't matter. Especially in a world such as Aconck, it really didn't matter. Oh, he knew his mother would have a heart attack if she knew--but how could she know? She probably didn't even exist anymore. And even after they wholloped this building--who knew? Who knew if anything would ever exist again? "Oh Ferrajalt! Could you help me?" he heard Treyess yell from below. He went back to the ladder and looked down--Treyess had a tablecloth bunched up like a sack--full of silverware, glasses, and dishes, from the sound of it. "What is this--another graduate of the Nevrippa Den school of looting?" "Now come on! Help me and pull this stuff up. And I am not looting--just think how cool it'll be to have Office Complex at Gumhanshire table settings in the future, if we manage to pull this off? It'll be rad!" "Oh okay! Here--gimme." Ferrajalt grabbed the heavy load and heaved it up with some effort. "Now come on," he said. "We really have to get back." They loaded the contraband into a storage compartment in the back of the plane, and took off, the Prince behind the stick again. "Uh," Ferrajalt said, "I'd like to uh... if I can pull it off, I'd like to hover up and down along the building, looking into the windows with lights on, just to be sure that no one's in there." "Sounds like a good plan. Better safe than sorry." After a few failed attempts, Ferrajalt figured out how to make the plane hover straight up and down, and they looked into floor after floor of windows. Inside, they saw numerous empty offices, many of which were all screwed up and full of weird things, just like the rest of this crashed world. "Well," Ferrajalt said, "I'm satisfied. No sign of life." "Nope." They headed back for the Warhome. Before they knew it, they made it back, passing the enormous nightmare structure to their left. Docking back up with the Warhome was a piece of cake, and soon the two of them were climbing down the ladder of the central shaft. Ferrajalt followed Treyess into the main living chamber. "Oh I just want to take all my clothes off and lay down under the covers and get all warm and toasty!" Treyess said, almost sounding drunk. Ferrajalt stopped dead in his tracks, heart racing. "So--go ahead. Maybe I'll join you." Treyess smiled and spun around slowly several times, looking right at Ferrajalt all the while. Finally she spoke. "I'll do what I want to do--while you wait outside. Then you can come in. Deal?" "Uh--deal," Ferrajalt said with a stumble, and he backed away and out of the door. "Just--uh--just tell me when I can come back in." "Will do." Ferrajalt shut the door and leaned against it, his heart now pounding wildly and a cold sweat breaking out all over him. Was this it? Was he gonna score with Treyess Arcomany in a few minutes? After a minute or two, Treyess yelled for him to come back in, and there she was--stark naked on the bed--and man was she hot! "Let's have some fun in this wasteland," she said. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 2: OFFICE COMPLEX CHAPTER 11 SR-024 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 39 sr39 02.9.3--The Den Call -------------------------- ============================== Prince Ferrajalt was nearing consciousness when he began to perceive a flashing light through his closed eyes. For a moment, he was disoriented, unsure of where he was, but when he opened his eyes, the events of the past day washed over him. Feeling Treyess's naked body next to his, he was careful not to wake her as he got up a little to seek out the source of the flashing. As he got up on his elbows, Treyess stirred, but did not awaken. Immediately, Ferrajalt saw a flashing purple light on a video screen above the bed. And there was a flashing purple button right next to him, on a table by the bed. He looked back and forth from the screen to the button, and then carefully reached out and pressed the button. The screen lit up and an image appeared. It was Nevrippa Den. Instantly, Ferrajalt buried himself under the covers and threw them all the way over Treyess. Only their heads could be seen. "Oh--ha! Looks like I caught you two at a bad time--good!" Den said with a goofy smile. "How are you making this call?" Ferrajalt said as Treyess stirred some more. "Well my friend," Den said, leaning forward and wearing a smug look, "after we got your excellent field report on the Warhomes, we all went over to the yard and got some of our own. And you know what, hot shot? I filled mine up totally with all the cool stuff I looted! Even the motorcycle and the speedboat are covered with junk!" "Um--that's great," Ferrajalt said, feeling extremely embarrassed. "But y'know, you've caught us in kind of a--delicate--situation, so--" "--oh don't worry about it. I'm not stuffy about it. I think sex is great. And you two make a cute couple, so don't worry about it one bit, hon." Ferrajalt grimaced and looked over at Treyess, whose eyes were just opening. "Tell me this is a nightmare," Treyess said. "Nope!" Den yelled. "It's for real! And reality is so much fun, because stuff that happens in reality has more of an impact, y'know? But anyway, I'm glad I got through to you cuz a whole lot of shit has been going down here and we need you guys back." "Um--okay--uh..." Ferrajalt said. "Okay," Den said. "Mr. Hate told me to tell you some stuff if I could figure out how to work the inter-Warhome communicators. Ha! So anyways, we got the ocean liner, the 'Repsiridescent' down onto the river--that was fun. Injy figgers we'll need about seven or eight Warhomes to tow it--too bad I beat the living daylights out of that Hypergod Amnifaoz guy when he attacked me and V! But the plan is going well. He says we should all be able to put our Warhomes on autopilot and get into the planes before the waterfall, y'know, to follow the Repsiridescent into the event horizon. Yeah right, like I'm gonna abandon all my stuff!" "Um," Treyess said, shocking the Prince as she pushed the sheets down to reveal her naked breasts, "how long have we been asleep?" "I don't know. Hey--nice chest! But no--I dunno--I think it's been four or five hours since your last kemig. Something like that. Wanna try that blanket trick on the Prince there, Treyess? I never saw a royal weenie before!" "Come on!" Ferrajalt said in an annoyed tone of voice. "Chill out, only joking dude," Den said, and then with a smile, "But if you had anything to show down there, I'm sure you would have!" "Nevrippa..." Treyess said. "Okay, okay," Den said. "So anyway, V and Vike are using superstrength to rip the cables and chains and stuff out of the docking mechanism and attaching them as tow cables. I'm gonna go help them soon--I'm naturally superstrong, you know." "Yes, we know," Treyess said. "Oh!" Den said. "We picked up another survivor! We found her hiding behind the front desk of a motel in Sapsip. She seemed awfully confused. Her name is 'Sleep' or something. You know, sleep, like what you guys were just doing before I rudely interrupted you. She has cool hair." "Don't worry about it, Nevrippa," Treyess said, sitting up a little. Ferrajalt cringed as her body was revealed up to her bellybutton. But then, the Prince thought, she didn't have anything to be embarrassed about. "We did sort of leave you all hanging," Treyess continued. "We'll try and get back soon. Now where are we getting back to now?" "Oh!" Den said. "Our new leader, Mr. Ledrant Hate, has moved the base of operations to his Warhome on the river, right by the Repsiridescent. So just come on up river." "Yeah," Ferrajalt said. "So what happened with this Hypergod guy? You beat him up?" "Oh yeah! You know, he came up to me and V in the van and said he felt like doing some killing. He said we weren't included in the bargain he made with you guys, since we weren't in the room, and he ripped that van in two almost, and was serious. Lucky I'm such a healthy girl. He tried to disembowel me--he wasn't kidding around. It did kind of tickle, but he didn't laugh when I punched through his armor and squished gore. Screamed, that bastard did. I ruined him. I think he's still alive, though." "V was okay?" Treyess asked. "Yeah," Nevrippa Den said, "he kind of backed off--well--kind of ran at full speed away from the fray. Did see something funny though. Did see that cube of his arch up and get all prickly and colorful, and flickered up. He may have something there, but he didn't stick around to find out." "Um," Ferrajalt said, "isn't like, wasn't that guy like as powerful as a god or something, or more? How could you have just beat him up like that?" Treyess looked over at Ferrajalt. "Now come on, my Prince--you know our little Nevrippa Den is a talented little filly. Credit where credit is due." "Yeah," Ferrajalt said. "Well, he deserved it if he tried to kill you like that. I knew we couldn't trust that guy. The old 'following an agreement by its letter rather than its spirit'. A sure sign of evil." "That it is," Den said. "That it is." "Oh yeah," Treyess said. "That reminds me--whatever became of those four weird people you guys told me about? You know--the ones who were--the girl who was the guy from the future, in a future incarnation, who had time travelled back to--well, you know--what happened to them?" Den nodded. "Well let me tell you about that. From our Warhomes, we're scanning them all back at that Noyage Parlour, but no one feels like going all the way down to Hennonly to investigate. Let 'em die, for all I care." "Die?" Treyess said. "Shouldn't reality just come back around them?" "Well," Den said, raising her eyebrows and nodding in mock thoughtfulness, "it seems that Injy has revised his estimates a little. He says that this shaky reflection of Timber Serious may have only survived due to the supportive-array of Aconck or something. That is, this Earth's reality system was able to hang on by a thread due to Aconck, or something. I really try to understand Injy, I do. But so much of the time his figures and calculations fly right over my head." "Like all of us," Treyess said. "Yeah," Den said. "So it turns out we have to follow the Repsiridescent into the Office Complex. In the planes, y'know? But I'm sticking with the ship--I'll be attached to it, after all. Can't lose my lovely loot! But don't tell the others, they're way too serious." "No, no," Treyess said. "So look guys. I don't want to take away from the quality time you have together before the big deed. I'm gonna go help V and Vike with their work--I think they need it. So I'll see you soon?" "Yup," the Prince said. "Yeah," Treyess said, starting to sit up on the side of the bed, but keeping her lower regions covered. "We'll see you in an hour or so." "Cool. Nevrippa Den out." And the video screen went blank. Treyess chuckled. "A lot happened while we were having our fun." "Yeah," Ferrajalt said, also moving to sit on the side of the bed, and scanning the room for his clothes. "Were you embarrassed?" Treyess said with a look. "Kind of. That Nevrippa gives me the creeps sometimes." "I know what you mean, but she's a good kid." "Yeah." "So you wanna get dressed and get back up the river to complete this crazy mission?" "Yeah I guess," Ferrajalt said. "I think I just have to wake up a little bit more to absorb all this crap." "I know what you mean." "Come here," Ferrajalt said, and Treyess turned to face him. She was stunning, and she approached the Prince. He embraced her and stroked her cheek, looking into her eyes. "What we did here was more than just 'fun' for me. I feel for you. I feel connected to you. And I hope you feel the same." "I do," Treyess said, looking away. "It's just... it's been so long since I've had any kind of stable relationship--the thought of it is kind of novel. It's funny. On my Earth, the kind of guys that were turned on by a dashing, independent adventurer like myself always turned out to be losers and nerds. The real men always seemed to stay away from me. But you--you're a real man--I can see that in you. The blood of heroes runs through your veins. Maybe not that many generations past." "Maybe not." They kissed. "This will be our home, this Warhome," Ferrajalt said. "I will make it happen. We will find a way to keep it, maybe the same way Den is planning." A tear came to Treyess's eye as she rested her head on Ferrajalt's shoulder. He was so young and innocent in her eyes. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 2: OFFICE COMPLEX CHAPTER 12 SR-025 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 41 sr41 02.9.4--Final Prep -------------------------- ============================== "What will Emma think of me now?" Amnifaoz, no longer a Hypergod, moaned. "You should have thought about that before acting like such a bore," Ann Saply said. "Bore?" V Sincein said, looking up. "Bore? He tried to disembowel Nevrippa! I'd say that's more than being a 'bore'." "I said I was sorry," Amnifaoz said. "I am spoiled. That which I was is gone. All that is left is this--this pimple of a body! Unthinkably fragile!" Indeed, Amnifaoz was changed. Now a mere human, with blue-gray skin and dark yellow hair, short and slim, and wearing a black and gray tunic, vaguely reminiscent of his Hypergod armor. The entire group was seated inside the main room of Ledrant Hate's Warhome, around a large table. Somehow he had managed to alter the master bedroom into a kind of control center. "Okay everyone," Hate said, standing at a console. "We're all here except for Treyess and Ferrajalt. I just talked to them and they should be here in a few minutes. They apologized for the further delay." "Hey, let them have their fun," Nevrippa Den said. Hate ignored the comment. "Once they're here," Hate said, "we'll have the ten Warhomes and drivers that we'll need. We can hook Ferrajalt's Warhome up and then get this crazy scheme over with. Let's just hope it works." "Too bad we couldn't get by with nine," V said, giving Amnifaoz a nasty glance. "Well I told you," Injure Bodoni said, "according to my calculations, it could be towed with six or seven, but to make those turns, we could maybe do it with nine, but ten will do it just fine." "Whatever," V said, his superimposed cube pulsing from a dull blue to a dull red. "Amnifaoz was good enough to offer his help," Hate said. "And he did apologize. Remember--he was the one who ultimately got ripped to shreds, regardless of the fact that he started it." "Yeah?" V said in an argumentative tone. "Look everyone," Ledrant said sharply, "let's just stop bickering and get along for once--we should all be dead--but someone out there gave us another chance." "I can't believe any of this," Sleap Drassy said. "It's just been a nightmare." "Well," Hate said, "it's lucky we scanned you--otherwise you'd still have been in that motel when we hurl the Repsiridescent into Office Complex at Gumhanshire--after that, there probably wouldn't be much left of this world." "Yeah. I just keep wondering why I was one of the lucky ones to survive the disaster," Sleap said. "It's just like, I mean, if I had it to choose, I don't think I'd want it this way. To lose all my friends and family like this." Ann Saply gazed at the young woman with the blond Mohawk. "Indeed," the cat lady said with a cool smile. Sleap gave Ann a quick angry look. "We would have been one short without you, girl," Ann said. "And this must all be so strange to you." "It sure is," Sleap said. "I never spoke to a cat before." "Oh, I think we'll be speaking a lot, my dear," Ann said. Sleap looked a little worried. "But we have to get through this, first," Ann added. "We'll get through it," Nevrippa said. "We better--I got too much cool stuff. I ain't gonna die." The room fell silent as the eight sat there looking around at each other. Finally, Injure Bodoni spoke. "So where are Treyess and Ferrajalt? We have to get moving. I told you there's a situationquake coming. If we don't get rid of that building soon, well..." "Don't worry--we're here," Treyess said, walking in with Ferrajalt behind her. "My goodness--look what you've done to your Warhome, Ledrant--it's absolutely stunning!" "Thank you," Ledrant Hate said. "Now that we're all here, we should go over the game plan. Treyess, Prince--you can take a seat right over here. Okay. So as you know, this world we're in is not as stable as we thought it was--in fact, it may be an anomaly left standing because of it's connection with Aconck. In any event, we know that hitting Office Complex at Gumhanshire--a building in Doscovor--with that ocean liner out there--the Repsiridescent--will set off a reaction which might set everything straight. But we all have to pass through the event in order for us to hope to participate in reality in the future. So what we have decided is that once we're within a mile of the waterfall, we'll all bail out of our Warhomes in the little biplanes, and follow the ship into the building, flying above it." "That's right," Bodoni said, turning to the crowd. "A few seconds here or there won't matter. 'Following' is the key word here. We must follow the boat as it smashes into the building--and hopefully it will pass us through into a fresh rendition of Timber Serious Earth, where none of this ever happened." "What about the boat?" Den asked. "Huh?" Bodoni said. "The boat," Den said. "Will the boat get through into the fresh world?" "Likely," Bodoni said. "The area around the event horizon will retain some crash-real aspectitudes. So the building and the boat, in their post-collision format, should be existent." "Good," Den said. "Why is that good?" Bodoni asked. "You'll see, boy," Den responded. "Okay," Hate said. "Every one of us has to know how to drive his or her Warhome, as well as how to fly the biplane. So we'll be doing some quickie training in the spare Warhome while the rest of them are hooked up." "Now," Bodoni said, "I just wanted to ask Treyess and Ferrajalt about the strange object they encountered downriver." "Yes?" Treyess asked. "Yes--please tell us everything you experienced once you entered the thing," Injure said. So Treyess and Ferrajalt related their experience of entering the construct and seeing that vision of the dog and the rabbit fighting. "Hmm," Bodoni said. "Very interesting. Could be symbolic--the rabbit represents 'la luna'--but the dog--I don't know..." "Just steer clear of it, everyone," Hate said. "There are a lot of terrible things here--things I'll be glad to leave behind. So let's get to it, then--the final preparations are at hand--we move in three hours and forty-five minutes!" -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 2: OFFICE COMPLEX CHAPTER 13 SR-026 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 42 sr42 02.9.5--Event Horizon -------------------------- ============================== Ferrajalt was flying in his biplane over the ten Warhomes and the ocean liner that was chained to them. This was the final check before they would proceed to tow the boat down the frozen river and into Office Complex at Gumhanshire. The boat, "Repsiridescent", was tilted at a 45 degree angle on the glassy surface of the river. The Warhomes were laid out in an intricate pattern, set forth by Injure Bodoni. Each driver would receive specific instructions from Injure of exactly what to do at each section of the river. A call came in, and Ferrajalt punched the purple button on his console. Treyess's face came into view. "Everything look okay up there?" she asked. "Yup. So I guess this is it." "Yeah. So when we're flying, come right next to me, okay? I don't want to lose you." Ferrajalt smiled. "I won't let you get away from me." Suddenly, there was a barrage of flashing lights from below Ferrajalt. "What the hell was that?" Ferrajalt yelled. "What?" Treyess asked. Ferrajalt swung around to see the guns of one Warhome firing--firing at one of the giant streetlights lining the river. The guns released pulse after pulse at the base of the streetlight, and before Ferrajalt knew it, the enormous streetlight was falling right toward the ocean liner! "Treyess! Someone shot a streetlight down--it's gonna--" With a shudder, the streetlight lurched and collapsed right onto the Repsiridescent. A thunderous noise reverberated throughout the destroyed landscape. "What happened?" Treyess asked. "Someone--someone shot down the streetlight!" Suddenly, a little rectangle opened in the corner of the video screen--it was Nevrippa Den. "It's okay everybody--I just shot down one of the streetlights," Den said calmly. "It landed perfectly on the boat--I just couldn't bear to leave this place without getting one of those beauties. Sorry for the inconvenience, but it should be okay, right?" Ferrajalt was speechless. "She really did that?" Treyess asked. "Yeah!" the Prince said, nodding in disbelief. Then, on the video screen, Den's face was replaced by that of Ledrant Hate. "Okay people," Hate said. "I'm just as dumbfounded as all of you regarding what Nevrippa has apparently just done--but we don't have time to question the repercussions of this event--we will go ahead as planned--Injure will determine if any course changes are called for--everyone at their driver's seat--prepare to begin." "Fuck!" Ferrajalt said. "That little weirdo may have just killed us all!" "I don't know," Treyess said. "I don't even want to think about it. I just want to get this over with." "Yeah," Ferrajalt said. "Let's do it. I'll see you in the air--and back in reality, hopefully." Treyess closed her eyes and kissed toward Ferrajalt. He kissed back and shut the screen off, as he zoomed back to his Warhome--the original one he and Treyess first found. Soon, back in the Warhome, Ferrajalt got to his driver's seat to find Bodoni on the screen. "Okay people," Injure said. "If your motors aren't running, get them so. Also, turn on your flashing lights--if there's anyone or anything on the river, we want to let them know we're coming." Ferrajalt revved his engine a little to make sure it was on, then he flicked a switch to activate the red and blue flashing police lights. "Now," Injure said, "we'll start off straight, but then we'll have a slight left turn. Everyone please check in, and then we can get started." "Ferrajalt here--ready," the Prince said. On the screen, Injure was nodding. "Don't worry Sleap--you'll do fine," Injure said, apparently to the concerns of Sleap in her Warhome. "Okay? Okay. So this is it. Everyone, straight, and start off slow, on the countdown to zero. Okay? 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1--zero!" Ferrajalt gently depressed the accelerator and moved forward a little, picking up the slack in the chain attached to his Warhome. Once the chain was taut, his wheels began to spin, but after a few seconds, he felt a deep thud from somewhere within the vehicle as it dropped a few inches closer to the ground. A high pitched wail could be heard from the engine as he pressed down further on the accelerator. "Okay folks," Injure said from the screen. "Looks like the tow function has kicked in--now let's increase the power a little..." Ferrajalt did this, and the vehicle started moving forward. As he looked around, he saw that the others were moving too. Soon, the ten Warhomes were indeed towing the enormous ocean liner down the frozen river--even with the giant streetlight dragging alongside the boat. The group made a few minor turns with ease, but several sharp turns were coming up. "Okay folks, we're doing good," Bodoni said. Ferrajalt's heart was beating hard and fast in his chest--he knew there was no turning back. "Now," Bodoni said, "get ready for the turn--we have to start well before we get there--coming up..." There were a few tense moments as they all turned sharply--if the boat grounded itself, the whole thing would be for naught. The maneuver was close, but it worked. "Alright! If we can do that one, the other two will be a snap!" Bodoni said. Prince Ferrajalt wiped some sweat off his brow and he readied himself for the next turn. They were going pretty fast now--but he knew they'd have to go a lot faster before they got to the waterfall. The Prince squinted as he thought he saw a flashing light up ahead on the left river bank. Yes--it was a red and blue flashing light--but too small to be a Warhome. He quickly approached the light, and saw it was on top of a normal-sized police car. A sheriff with a cowboy-style hat was leaning against the car, staring at Ferrajalt as he drove by. For an instant the Prince locked eyes with the sheriff, and saw he was a tall, thin, young-looking fellow. In the next instant Ferrajalt had passed far beyond the lawman--but something about the stranger--what was it? The Prince shook his head and figured that this destroyed world and all its weirdness would soon be behind him. But then he considered what he was headed for--flying headlong into the unknown, and he felt a tinge of panic before Injure's terse commands distracted him--they were upon another turn. This turn went smooth enough, and Ferrajalt began to be aware of the high-pitched squeal of the Repsiridescent gliding along on top of the ice, getting louder and louder as they kept going faster and faster. One more turn, and they'd hit the straightaway--nothing but a mile or two between them and the waterfall. None of them would have much time to get into their planes--it would definitely be close. Ferrajalt stared ahead at the passing streetlights, then he glanced down at the speedometer--160 mph and rising fast. How could he feel so calm? The final turn came, and though Injure was fretting over some piece of data, the group accomplished it without error. So now--this was it. "Alright people," Injure said, "here we go. Set your autopilot in--fifteen seconds--then get the hell up to those planes! Remember--follow the Repsiridescent into the event--don't worry about the distance so much, just--okay--7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1--set autopilot and bail out!" Ferrajalt swallowed hard and then punched the orange autopilot light. The speedometer read 180 mph. The riverbanks and streetlights shot past him like lightning. He grabbed at the release of his seatbelt and flailed at it when it didn't instantly release. A surge of panic washed over him, but subsided when he got the seatbelt loose and jumped up. A final glance at the speedometer showed it at 185 mph and rising quickly. There was no turning back. He opened the door and walked into the main area of his Warhome. He looked up at the biplane at the top of the shaft as he heard that awful high-pitched wail from the boat. So he wouldn't be able to make good on his promise to Treyess--the wonderful Warhome would be demolished in the impact. Maybe it could be recovered and repaired after the impact? He decided he couldn't afford to spend any time worrying about it as he climbed the ladder on the central shaft and climbed aboard the plane. The key. He forgot the key. The control panel was dead in front of him. The key was back next to the driver's seat. How could he have forgotten it? He was dead. Ferrajalt blinked his eyes once, then jumped out of the plane and landed hard on the floor--a little bit of superstrength kicked in to prevent injury. Thinking fast, the Prince yelled "Super!" and felt an explosion of power within him. In one leap, he splintered the cockpit door and lunged forward for the key, which he grabbed swiftly. Looking ahead, he saw the glow of Doscovor on the horizon. The vector display was flashing and beeping wildly, warning of the impending fall. Several of the others were already taking off in their biplanes. He could make it. He had to make it. Ferrajalt bounded back through the wrecked door and with a massive leap was back next to the plane. He lunged forward and jammed the key into its hole, turning it as he jumped into the seat. The control panel lit up, and the dome began to open. Finding the right controls, Ferrajalt started to rise the plane. A blast of wind hit him in the face like a brick--he didn't have his helmet on. As the biplane rose, he could see the rough ice of the waterfall ahead--he had made it with a quarter minute to spare. He eased forward on the throttle, and was free from the Warhome. Pulling back on the stick, he shot upward. Suddenly, the video screen on the console lit up--it was Treyess, with a helmet on. She was moving her lips, but Ferrajalt couldn't hear, so he reached down, grabbed the helmet, and put it on. "What?" he yelled. "I said, I see you had some trouble too." "Yeah. I forgot the key." "Haha! Me too. I almost died, Ferrajalt, I tell you, I almost died. I didn't realize it was in my pocket the whole time." Ferrajalt laughed a little. "Well, I really did forget it," he said. "I messed the place up with superstrength getting it back." "Wow. Oh look! There it goes!" Indeed, as he was looking at the video screen, the Warhomes zoomed off the edge of the waterfall--to be followed a moment later by the enormous ocean liner. Ferrajalt was shocked at the sudden silence--he hadn't even noticed the shrieking wail of the boat on the ice, but now that it was silent, he felt a wave of relief. It happened quickly. The boat, with flashing Warhome lights mutedly visible from its front, seemed to glide over the bay, unerring in its path toward Office Complex at Gumhanshire. The giant streetlight Den shot down was still hanging onto the ocean liner. And then it hit--and the lights of Office Complex at Gumhanshire went out. No explosion, no reality wave, nothing. "Okay," Ferrajalt said, shaken. "Is that it? Did it work?" "I don't know," Treyess responded. "Let's just get over there, full throttle!" "Alright," Ferrajalt said, easing the throttle forward all the way, and then some. His little biplane shot forward with surprising speed. In a moment, he was over the bay and headed for what was now a growing cloud of dust. All of a sudden, hell broke loose in the sky--an array of searingly-bright parallel bands appeared, rotating counter-clockwise and turning from bright white to bright red. The landscape all around him began to ripple, gently at first, but in a few seconds, violently. "Get into that cloud!" he heard Treyess yell. Yes--he was headed for it. Only a few more seconds... There was a massive drop in air pressure as the bands in the sky began to unravel. Ferrajalt's ears popped, and he felt some superstrength kick in to protect him. He was almost upon the dust cloud now--but something made him look up one last time--and then he saw it--the dog, with the rabbit in its jaws, running as fast as it could. But he knew--he knew that the rabbit wasn't dead. It was almost as if--as if the dog was trying to help the rabbit. And he entered the dust cloud. He didn't care if he crashed--there was nothing left outside the dust cloud anyway. But he didn't crash--it just got real, real cold, and the air pressure dropped some more. Now all was dark, and any remaining heat and air pressure quickly vanished--he was in the vacuum of space. He felt his emergency superstrength kick in--it was like an incredible pressure crushing his body. He didn't breath, and he couldn't see. Soon, he couldn't even feel. He was nowhere, but he was still alive. His heart was still beating. His time in vacuum seemed neverending, but it couldn't have been more than a few minutes before it began to warm and an atmosphere once again embraced him. The emergency superstrength eased back a little, enough for him to open his eyes a little and see where he was headed. And it was straight down. He saw trees, rocks, and ocean for a split second before he crashed. He must have been going near the speed of sound. The emergency superstrength was back, and again he felt like he was being crushed. Back in the dark. But this time, Ferrajalt shot him arms forward, and light showered down upon him. He scrambled upward, and collapsed on the edge of the crater his biplane had created. The strain of the superstrength was too much for him. He lost consciousness just as he saw a lovely pine tree. But he was alive. His heart was still beating. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 2: OFFICE COMPLEX CUPLINE'S END ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 3: PECULIAR LATHER 25 Chapters--SR-027 thru SR-051 ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 3: PECULIAR LATHER CHAPTER 1 SR-027 ============================== SRpl001--"The Playful Hunt" ============================== Tanner Loblolly considered the stark and depressing ending of the song "Defy the Lord", by his new favorite band, Melter Pluto. It was a torrential downpour outside, and Tanner had just come in, drenched. He had been down at Connects Hall playing the new confounder, Expatriate. Now he was here in his small Spoin Hall dorm room at Thatterine College, listening to the minitempest outside. His roommate, Doug Brine, had gone home for the weekend. A very calm and lonely feeling permeated the room. Until a month earlier, Tanner had been Payjaych, a pantheonic god. He was exiled to Earth as a human college student, for his "unpopular" political views. He'd been the god of Cats and Attributes Feline--such as stealth, mystery, aloofness, etc. But more recently he had ridiculed the greater gods, who were evermore assimilating aspects of lower gods, by declaring himself Payjaych, Lord of Neckties and Vinegar. This was in response to a goddess stealing his attribute of The Playful Hunt. His declaration in effect said "Here, have the rest of my attributes! Hopefully I'll be safe from theft now, with Neckties and Vinegar as my attributes!" And it openly berated the greater gods, who normally enjoyed a constant shower of false praise. They were usually above criticism, because they kept a healthy paranoia afoot. Payjaych didn't know why, but he felt pretty immune from the other gods. But finally, they had managed to put him out of commission and into college, which was where he now was. It was a sinister trap. Engaging and refreshing college life, with its mysteries, hedonism, youth, relaxation, hope--it sapped his will to escape. And being a student was somehow reminiscent of something from deep in his past--something he could not identify. But the feeling of deep memory, though abstract, was pleasing. So, listening to this Melter Pluto album and hearing the splatt'rin' rain outside, a peculiar memory came to Tanner. Now, this was not something from the deep past--but from maybe a year earlier. It was a normal memory, just like any other memory, only that the events in this memory never happened. Just then, in the song playing, were the lyrics "the memory of the dream drains away, and the loss is vague, and I want you to stay away". Tanner looked at the clock and felt a little weird. Something about memory. A deep ancient memory, an incongruous recent memory, lyrics on memory. Tanner was worried. So the odd memory came to him. It was... where the gods and goddesses lived, the Supbam Hotel, located in the city of Agoopish. But it was all wrong. These gods weren't gods like Payjaych and his kin. These gods were unfamiliar. But it was in the lobby, near the entrance and the elevators, where two old guys worked. The one guy was named Drake, and was short and thin, a huge shock of white hair on his head, and a hotel guy uniform on, making him look like a military leader. He was talking on the phone, and appeared to be concerned with something happening outside. The other guy, Cudworth, was taller, rotund, balding, and had a pleasant personality--but always seemed a little confused. He was reading from a book on his desk, and wore a uniform similar to the one Drake had on. Both had a desk with a light and a bulletin board. As the two sat at their desks, the god Well Doctarca walked by and went into the elevator bay. Well was a god of Darkness and Intrigue, working as a politician these days. His black and gray and red attire looked like a combination between a business suit and armor. His hair was long, straight, and black, and he had a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. His face was broad and he looked wise, but also practical and rage-prone. Soon an elevator door opened and he entered, going up. The lobby was not palatial, but was pretty big. It had a nice marble floor, and the whole place was currently lit by the mid-afternoon sun, streaming in from the tall windows that looked out onto the street. Then, Tanner came into the lobby through the front doors and walked up to Cudworth. Tanner had just gotten to Agoopish a few hours earlier, and was frazzled, excited, and deluded--since he was a mortal and never before believed that a place such as Agoopish could exist--let alone that he might travel to such a location. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 3: PECULIAR LATHER CHAPTER 2 SR-028 ============================== SRpl002--"Map Shirt Goddess" ============================== Back at college, as Tanner continued to recall these events, he regarded the memory of what he had looked like back then. Nineteen years old, tall, dark brown hair a mess going everywhere down to his shoulders, a thick untrimmed beard, no mustache. He wore a pair of brown rugged pants, a gray sweater, and a light jacket, black in color, with the words GULLIA FAIR VERODARE on the back in big yellow letters. A younger version of a just-created person. Strange. As far as the current Tanner knew, the Tanner Loblolly persona had been created from scratch by the gods who banished him--and did not exist before a month ago. He continued to recall, wondering if that goddess who stole his Playful Hunt, Eachdield, was behind this false memory game. "Um, uh, excuse me. I'm looking for a girl, a goddess. She has red hair and a shirt with a map on it, but, uh, I can't remember her name," Tanner said, approaching Cudworth. "I regard the red-haired goddesses of days gone by," Cudworth said, waving his arms in dramatic gestures and meandering on the lobby floor. "Their lusty essence does simmer the populace. And I all alone, in fantasy met them, and did things with them. They burned in that time! The town ignited, stoic streets exploding. The redhead goddesses, the most incredible deities of all... those blaring girls..." "Uh, well--do you know the one I'm referring to?" Tanner said, confused. "The redhead goddess of today? What the hell is her name? Is her name on that list you have on the wall?" "Well, young man, there are a few red-haired goddesses here these days," Cudworth said, walking over to his spot and looking at a list of names on his bulletin board. "Heh, I was just quoting from a popular poem before, from several decades ago, you know. I'm prone to quote. But... now I'm not sure which one you're referring to. Also, I'm not sure why you want to know. Hmm?" "Well, it's this way. I met her in a movie theater down that way," Tanner said, pointing toward a hallway, "and she made a date with me to go to this dance thing tonight, and now there's this big banner on the wall outside saying, basically, that she thinks I'm a little twerp and she doesn't know what got into her, and that she's going with someone else. Can you believe that? I wanna take it down. And, and she didn't even sign her name." "Then how do you know she wrote it?." "Well, it had my name on it, and it said to forget about going to the dance tonight. So I'm assuming it's her." "That's a cute little joke. Boy, that Janine is sure a silly little girl, ain't she?" Cudworth said, chortling a little. "Janine! Yeah, that's it. Janine. She's the one," Tanner said, scrunching up his face in thought. "Hmmm. Do you know where she is?" "No, but--" "--wait a second--is that thing real--where if you have a legitimate gripe with a deity, and you call their name, they have to come before you and answer your charge?" Cudworth rolled his eyes and sighed. "I suppose that would work. I'm not sure. Traditions like that aren't really very important around here. Most people probably wouldn't want to summon a god before them, for whatever reason. I mean--why cause yourself trouble?" "Well all I know is I was looking forward to this dance--and she led me on. So I think I ought to call her here right now." "Do as you please, kid. But, uh, if you're gonna summon her, go over to the elevator bay to do it, hey? I don't want a ruckus out here in the lobby if I can help it." "Okay, fine," Tanner said, turning toward the elevators. Cudworth regarded Tanner for a second. "Er, wait a second son--what exactly's going on here? Are you new to Agoopish?" Tanner stopped and turned back. "Yeah, I suppose so. So what?" "Well, before you get Janine's ire up, why don't you tell me what led up to this trouble. I can advise you of the best thing to do. Hmm? What do you say? I always try and be helpful." "Well alright. You see... uh, about three or four hours ago, me and my two friends--I think they're around here somewhere--Minion Van Hall and Martin Fovea--we were..." In his room, Tanner shook himself and thought, "what is this memory?" Minion Van Hall and Martin Forever were members of Melter Pluto (Martin had taken a stage name). Minion was the lead singer, and Martin was the flautist/keyboardist/violinist. The others were Dan St. Bloodbrother on drums, Hazy Nopperty on guitar, and Nim Bunique on bass guitar. He started to remember knowing all of them. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 3: PECULIAR LATHER CHAPTER 3 SR-029 ============================== SRpl003--"Melter Pluto" ============================== At first Tanner thought he was having a fantasy of some sort, as anyone might have, of being cool and hanging out with rock stars and visiting godly cities. But he WAS a god! No--this was a real memory--and he recalled that Minion and Martin were not rock stars back then, a year ago. He was wondering where this memory had come from, considering that as far as he could remember, two years earlier he was Payjaych, and not Tanner Loblolly. He recalled that around that time as Payjaych he was concerned with designing a very complex board game called "Derelict". But--this memory of Agoopish was as real as any other. He paused and considered--and suspected--that an alternate past was growing from his current present state--that a past was sprouting forth like a seedling, taking root and moving upward and outward, backwards. He immediately realized the danger in this phenomenon--and though he knew not the exact cause, he knew that this alternate past might soon bulge to obfuscate his real past--and that he must stem the tide so as to retain his identity as Payjaych, Lord of Neckties and Vinegar. He applied his will toward concreting his real past, and then, assured that it was safe, he continued to remember the events of the alternate past, specifically the events he had been relating to Cudworth, straining at points to recall... ...it was in the same Area Thatterine College was in, Gullia Fair, in the Confederen Areas of Baskonontana. It was him and the two future members of Melter Pluto, standing at a service station in the light rain, in a heavily industrialo area. Minion Van Hall was wearing a black Murder Pkotocks T-shirt (Murder Pkotocks being a legendary slaughterist and marauder of several centuries earlier), and vertically-striped green and brown trousers. He had long, dark blond hair, and a bemused expression on his face. Martin was wearing an off-white short-sleeve button-up shirt and dark gray pants. He was of average height, but very thin, even slight. His hair was light brown and short. Tanner was wearing the same stuff he would have on later at the hotel. Apparently, they were waiting for Lee Frockweary, who was fixing Minion's car. They had been dropped off at the service station by Martin's mother, and they were depending on Lee to show up with the keys to Minion's car, so they could drive home. But time was dragging on and the three began to fear they might be stranded there. "This really sucks! Where the hell is that frickin Frockweary? I'm a fuckin' kill 'im!" Minion said, pacing. "Well ya better hope he shows up--I'm not gonna freeze out here on account of your stupid car," Martin said, looking cold, his hands shoved into his pants pockets. "My car is the coolest--don't you fuckin' berate my car, pal," Minion said smiling. "Looks like more rain's comin'," Tanner observed. "Yeah, and we're standing out here getting wet. Can't we try and see if the doors to the garage are open?" Martin said, bending down on his knees and looking under the garage doors. "I told ya--even if they are, Lee'd be fuckin' pissed to find us hanging around in the garage--and you know that prick'd tell his dad," Minion said. "Well I'm not gonna stand around here and get wet," Martin said. "Oh no? What're you gonna do, then?" Minion said, grabbing a rusty old chair and swinging it around in front of him. "I'll think of something," Martin muttered. "Yeah, sure," Minion muttered back, dropping the chair and then sitting astride it. The three waited in silence as a tractor trailer passed by noisily. Tanner was looking around the area and breathing in the cold, now diesel-scented air, which was surprisingly refreshing. Then he saw it. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 3: PECULIAR LATHER CHAPTER 4 SR-030 ============================== SRpl004--"Totally Killed" ============================== "Hey look--there's that electrical substation over there," Tanner said, pointing. "You remember what Clezakrehahd told us about it last month?" "Hah! Oh yeah," Martin said with a chuckle. "What?" Minion asked lazily. "You don't wanna know--it's major bullshit, eh," Martin said. "I don't know..." Tanner said leadingly. "Oh come on Loblolly--don't tell me you actually believed any of Clack's story!" Martin said. "Hey look Martin--Clack was just retelling a story someone else had told him," Tanner said. "You don't... you don't think Clack has half enough imagination to come up with a story as bizarre as that? Do you?" "Well, maybe he got it from a major bullshitter with a great imagination," Martin said. "Goddammit what is this story?" Minion said, propelling his chair forward in little bursts while still sitting on it. "Minion, believe me, you don't wanna know," Martin said. "Yes I god-frickin do!" "It's pretty amazing--but I might believe it," Tanner said, somewhat brightly. "You see those train tracks going into the plant? Like, y'know, where the fuck are they going? I mean, there's no trains there, I don't think. I never saw any there. But--" "--probably it was, y'know, there were trains a long time ago, but they shut it down or something," Minion said. "Yeah well, whatever," Tanner said. "So anyway, Clack said these friends of his friend crawled along the rails 'cause one of them had a dream about it, about crawling along the rails, and he said they wound up in like, another universe or something, in a weird city or something." "Yeah, then what?" "Well, he said this friend of his saw some weird shit they brought back, and when they were drunk, he got them to describe where they had went--this unearthly city." "Oh Man! Great true story, coming from a drunken bastard!" "But this stuff..." "Fuck the stuff!" "He said the stuff was not of this world." "Who said?" "Clack's friend." "Clack's fulla shit!" "I don't know..." "Well let's go then!" "Fine by me," Tanner said, eager. "Hey! Here comes Lee!" Martin said, walking forward toward the street. "No that's not him," Tanner said as a little orange car passed them. "Fuck! ... now Tanner, this story--it simply isn't logical. Train tracks do not lead into another universe. See?" Minion said. "I don't know..." Back in the present, Tanner got up from his bed, walked across the room, and turned his hotpot on, so that he could make some tea. The rainstorm outside was still going pretty good. He looked in the mirror above his dresser and wondered how to deal with this alternate past. He realized that unless he did something soon, he might get overwhelmed by the other past, in effect erasing his real past. Or another thing could happen--he could have two presents coexisting--one for each version of the past--which would be an alarming phenomenon. The memories of the events which transpired in the intervening year in the alternate past were very fuzzy. The only concrete recollection he could focus on was that day, about a year earlier, when he discovered Agoopish. The Melter Pluto album he'd been listening to, "Totally Killed", ended. He put it back to the beginning and started it again. Then he flopped onto his bed and continued to concentrate. He remembered that he and Minion and Martin kept waiting for Lee Frockweary, but then gave up and called Tanner's dad for a ride home. Tanner's dad couldn't get there for an hour, however, so they decided to try to crawl along the rails into the electrical substation, just to prove that Clezakrehahd was full of shit. So they walked over and started to walk along the rails, not seeing the point in crawling. But soon they got to a point where the rails went under a fence and they were forced to crawl to get through. For a few hundred feet they were crawling beneath the structure of the substation. Then, all at once, they came to a point where there was a huge chasm underneath the rails--something which didn't seem possible for the geography of the area they were in. So they continued, carefully crawling across the rails, toward the other side of the chasm, which they could see in the distance. Needless to say, they were pretty shaken up, even panicked. But they crossed, slowly but surely. As they were crossing, Tanner's feet got stuck between the rails, and he had to slip out of his shoes and let them fall into the chasm. Finally, they got across, to the ledge next to the chasm, which was about twenty feet wide. The train tracks got all gnarled up and destroyed as they reached the wall at the end of the ledge. There was no sky to be seen, but even so, it was not wholly apparent that there wasn't a sky. That is, there was no ceiling or roof to be seen. It was like there was no angle from which you could get a good view of the sky. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 3: PECULIAR LATHER CHAPTER 5 SR-031 ============================== SRpl005--"El Flactor Floor" ============================== Tanner, Minion, and Martin walked along the ledge a little and got into what seemed to be a basement of some sort, with a cold concrete floor and lots of partitions, so they couldn't see very far ahead of themselves. Then finally they got to a raised floor, which they climbed up onto, just as if they were on subway tracks and climbing back onto the platform. A short stairway led out into another area which also seemed to be sort-of outside, with no sky apparent. They continued walking, and then got to what appeared to be a shopping mall. At this point, they began to realize they WERE in an alternate universe of some kind. Somehow, they were very calm about it. Most of the stores were closed, but there were a few people milling about. Tanner went into a few stores looking for shoes, and wound up buying a shitty pair of moccasins at some weird messy little store. They accepted his Baskonontanan currency, much to his surprise. Then they got to a movie theater with extremely steep steps, and went inside. They walked up the stairs in the movie theater. There were lights on, and it seemed to be between movies. They came upon two girls, and got to talking to them. One was a gorgeous red-haired goddess named Janine Engineen, and the other a pretty brunette goddess named El Flactor Floor. El Flactor Floor was talking with Martin and Minion, but soon she said goodbye and left. Janine Engineen was talking to Tanner, and writing on the back of one of the seats with a blue ball-point pen. She asked Tanner if he wanted to go to a dance with her that night, and Tanner accepted gleefully. He had been very struck by Janine's beauty from the moment he saw her. She said they'd meet in the lobby of the Supbam Hotel that night at nine o'clock. She left, and Tanner read what she was writing on the seat, but he couldn't make head nor tail of it. So they left the theater, and continued walking through the mall. Back at college, Tanner rubbed his forehead and began to feel overwhelmed. Then he moved to recall what happened after he told Cudworth about how he had come to Agoopish. In the memory, Tanner walked away from Cudworth and into the elevator bay, saying "Janine" repeatedly just under his breath. After a few minutes, Janine disappeared in, hovering against the wall, the maps on her shirt animated and writhing. Tanner confronted her about the banner outside and asked why she jilted him. She looked behind him and said "Ask her." He turned around and saw the goddess Fluffy Netherfuck, and found her even more attractive than Janine. Then Janine disappeared. Back in the dorm, Tanner felt drained of will. He didn't really feel like remembering this stuff. He had to cringe at how awed he was of Agoopish, considering that as Payjaych, he would have considered Agoopish a deific backwater slum, not worthy of much attention or respect. In any case, he felt like going to sleep, but then the phone rang, and he had a chill that if he answered it it would concrete this alternate past. But he decided to answer it anyway. "Hello?" "Hey Tan, what's up!" It was El Flactor Floor's voice on the phone. He felt his real past draining away quickly now. Payjaych, Lord of Neckties and Vinegar, something not very important, was a name receding into the back of his mind. "Is this, uh, is this El Flactor Floor?" Tanner asked cautiously. Funny. For a second there, Tanner seemed to forget that El Flactor Floor was also a student at Thatterine College. "Of course it is, silly--what are you--drunk?" Tanner said nothing. He didn't want to say anything. "Are you there?" she asked. "Yes, I'm here." "What's wrong?" "Nothing. Nothing at all." "Gee, such a grouch! But seriously, are you helping me to Agoop this afternoon?" "What?" "Whoops! You-know-who just walked in. I'll call you back in a minute." Tanner did not know who. He just unplugged the phone, shut off the lights and the stereo, and went to bed. Things weren't going well. He was terribly confused and he didn't even know why. He cherished the idea of going to sleep and finding this had all been a dream. But then the hotpot started to whistle and he knew he would have to get up and turn it off. But he didn't--he just stayed in bed, his head under the covers, hoping the water would boil away soon. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 3: PECULIAR LATHER CHAPTER 6 SR-032 ============================== SRpl006--"Awake Fluffy Netherfuck" ============================== Fluffy reached over and grabbed the phone and dialed zero for the lobby. It rang once, then Drake answered. "Lllllllllllobby!" Drake said dryly. "Oh hi Drake. This is Fluffy." "Good afternoon milady." "Good, uh, afternoon. Say, I think I've been asleep a long time. Is it really 3:30 PM, Friday the 40th?" "Um--wait a second--er--yeah, that's the right time." "But the date?" "Yeah." "What?" "Yeah--it's the 40th." "Oh." "Z'anything wrong Fluffy?" Fluffy looked around, suddenly brimming with thoughts. "Milady?" Drake asked. "Hmm? Oh, no. I'm fine. Just seems I've been asleep a week, that's all. Y'know?" "Oh, I wouldn't be worried. I remember Pluckemin once slept for a whole month. Just a god sort of thing, y'know? Us mortals might not live forever, but at least our bodies are more predictable." "Yeah," Fluffy responded. There was a pause. Fluffy heard some smashing noises in the background on Drake's end. "Uh Fluffy--if that's it, there's some trouble here that I need to deal with." "No Drake, that's it. Thanks." "Always a pleasure," Drake said. Fluffy heard yelling in the background just as Drake was hanging up. Fluffy yawned and turned over onto her back, running her fingers through her long and naughty and mischievous blond hair. The drone of a distant vacuum cleaner and the ticks of her two clocks were the only noises. She opened her eyes a crack and peered at the splattered patterns of chaos in paint on her ceiling. When had she gone mad and spastic with the paint? A hundred years ago? Forty years ago? She couldn't recall. But she did remember hearing some fellow deities talking about an observation that sometimes a godbody would prepare itself automatically for a great exertion or adventure--even if the god didn't know it was coming--by slumbering a very long time. They said that it involved the reverse-time stream, and that somehow the godbody operated more in the reverse-time field than was previously thought. So maybe I'm going to face some fantastically draining experience this day, Fluffy thought as she got out of bed and stretched in an exaggerated yawn. Hers was a relaxed, almost lazy beauty, and her lovely body was about that of a 25-year-old. Her face was full of warmth and assurance and meditation and outer space. She stood five foot eight, but her crazy hair made her seem taller. In near-darkness she walked across the suprafuzziness of her white rug, amid the stuffed animals and smooth metal bottles, and wound her way to the bathroom. She entered the shower, deep in musing on what might lay ahead. Usually on any given day she would wander around the Hotel and the City to see what was going on. She planned to do no different today, but resolved to be on the lookout for anything suspicious. The shower was warm and deep. Deeper, she thought, than it should be. Deep and mystical and hot and flowing. She realized things were not altogether right with the world today, and this made her more anxious to go out and see what was awaiting her. After toweling herself dry, Fluffy donned her outfit. Her clothes were mainly white and gray and loose-fitting and ripped-up. With wisps and silver strands and such it almost looked like she was wearing insane spider webs. But still, the suit emanated practicality and straightforwardness, like a sweatsuit. The clothes and the hair and the beauty indeed gave her a powerful and paranormal appearance appropriate to a goddess. One of the advantages of being a goddess was that she didn't need to wear any makeup; her appearance was certain to be stunning in nearly any circumstance. She often pitied the mortal and denizen women who were always in such a tizzy over their appearance. Sometimes Fluffy wondered what it was like to be physically old, but she was glad she'd never have to experience it. After dressing, Fluffy clasped on a belt, which had several pouches and compartments hanging from it, in which she kept money, keys, a watch, a cellular phone, pens, candy, and other such knickknacks. Then she left her room, made sure the door was locked, and strode down to the elevators. In the elevator bay, Fluffy looked out the window to the big City below. It was around 4:30 PM now, and Bright was in the latter half of its arc. Bright wasn't the Sun--but an equivalent light source--about twice the diameter of the sun, pure white, and able to be looked at without retinal damage. The sky of Agoopish was always a shade of gray, and the clouds jet black. There were no stars, but strangely, the moon was there and went through its phases just as it did on Earth. Fluffy liked the sky of Earth much better, even though she didn't get to see it very often. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 3: PECULIAR LATHER CHAPTER 7 SR-033 ============================== SRpl007--"I Live at the Hotel" ============================== The elevator arrived, and Fluffy got in. The only other person inside was a very ill-looking bald guy. She didn't recognize him, and he shied away when she looked at him. She decided not to talk to him. The doors closed and they sped down toward the main lobby. The elevator arrived and Fluffy got out and walked toward the front door, past Cudworth and Drake, the Hotel managers. Cudworth was a mortal with a pleasant personality, and appeared to be in his mid-50s. His shape was rotund, his head nearly bald--a few white wisps left. He seemed jolly, if a bit confused. Drake, also a mortal, was thinner and shorter than Cudworth. He seemed to be in his 60s, and had a huge, bizarre shock of white hair on his head. He was known to be clever and mischievous, but also moody and severe when provoked. Both Cudworth and Drake wore mock-military-style uniforms. "Hey Fluffy--feel plenty rested?" Cudworth yelled out suddenly. Fluffy turned around. "I certainly do Cudworth," she said, coming over. "So what events of magnitude have I missed this past week?" "Oh, you know, the usual. Well has this big debate going. El found some more hinterland ruins to explore. And Cxoven's throwing a party for everyone--you believe that?" said Cudworth. "Really? That's a shocker. Sounds like one of his practical jokes." "Nope. He guarantees that it's legit," Cudworth said as he rummaged through the papers on his desk. "So where you off to--some cosmos-shattering adventure? A mission of grave importance? An ordeal of self-discovery?" "No, just down to the bookstore." "Heh--thank goodness for goddesses like you, Fluffy. I'm beginning to think the folks around here are getting a bit too grandiose for their own good." "They are, Cuds. They are." "Well, have fun at the store." "Thanks. See ya later." Fluffy turned and walked toward the doors, but Cudworth called after her. "Oh, Fluffy--can you see if they got the new Marv Metuchen book in?" "Yeah sure--what's the title," Fluffy said, turning around lithely. "I don't quite remember, but I think it's something like 'The Blankets Don't Generate the Heat, It's the People That Generate the Heat'." "Well, if I see any new Metuchen book about heat generation, I'll pick it up for you." "My sincere thanks," Cudworth said. "My sincere your welcome," Fluffy said, turning and walking out the door. Outside on the street there was heavy humidity and heat. The area around the Hotel had a great deal of gaudy and extravagant architecture, and street venders lined the sidewalks. Fluffy took in the sights and sounds as she headed downtown on foot. After a few minutes she arrived at the Fulptiom Valley Bookstore, in one of the major commercial centers of the city. Inside, she browsed around the Earthbook import section. She was much more interested in new books from Earth than new Agoopibooks. She used to be interested in the books coming out of the other Avert Cities, especially Blamnoom, but of late she grew tired of the Deific style and attitude. Having slept a week, she was hopeful for some good new arrivals, but there really wasn't anything of interest to her, other than a new reference series, of which only a few volumes were in stock. She looked for the Metuchen book Cudworth had wanted, but saw nothing new. In fact, the Metuchen shelf was nearly empty. She guessed that Marv Metuchen had regained some of his former popularity. After some more browsing, Fluffy was about to leave, but she spied a skinny kid with glasses in the back of the store opening a newly-arrived box. On a whim, she walked back and approached the kid. "Hey, what have ya got there?" she inquired pleasantly. "You're not supposed to be back here, Miss," the kid said in a bratty stuffed-nose tone of voice . Fluffy was a bit taken aback by this little creep of a denizen speaking to her thus, but she figured he must not recognize her as a goddess--either that, or he was stupid or suicidal. Not that she would do anything to hurt him, but she knew other goddesses who'd likely slap him around and get him fired on the spot. Not Fluffy, though. She was the patient one, the calm one. "Sorry kid. Anyway, what's in the box?" Fluffy asked. "Nothing you can see. And my name's not kid--it's Ben," the kid responded. Fluffy was a bit perturbed. "Look Ben, let's make this simple. I'm Fluffy Netherfuck. I live at the Hotel." "Oh," Ben said, avoiding looking at her. "Oh. I'm sorry. My eyes aren't too good you know." "Well Ben," Fluffy said, looking at the box. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 3: PECULIAR LATHER CHAPTER 8 SR-034 ============================== SRpl008--"Blankets Don't Generate Heat--People Generate Heat" ============================== "Okay," Ben said as he opened the box with a knife, revealing a shipment of the new Marv Metuchen book, 'Blankets Don't Generate Heat--People Generate Heat'. "Well, how delightful--just the book I'm looking for," Fluffy said in a semi-sarcastic tone. "Take as many as you want," Ben said, looking away. "Even though we're not supposed to put 'em out till Monday." "Look, I only want one, Ben," Fluffy said, taking a freshly printed copy out of the box. "And I am going to pay for it." "Yeah," Ben said, still looking away. "Look kid--you oughtn't act so fresh around deities--you're likely to get disadvantaged, if you see what I mean. You're lucky I'm a nice goddess," Fluffy said. Ben paused, and then said "Yeah, I know. Sorry." "Well I'm just warning you. I'm taking this book to Cudworth--and once word gets out, there'll be a slew of godfolk down here for this 'Blanket' book. You better talk to your manager and tell her to put some extra copies behind the counter." "I'll do that," Ben said. "Good," Fluffy said. "And wise up for goodness sake--you're lucky enough to work at a bookstore--so don't blow it by pissing off a Supbamite" "I appreciate the advice milady. Thank you." "That's more like it--but I'm not here to lord it over you, even though I am a goddess. But get that Bright-sized chip off your shoulder if you know what's good." "Yes," Ben said. "Well, bye-bye," Fluffy said, and took the book to the counter. The cashier was a tired looking middle-aged woman. Fluffy handed her the book. "I know this book's not on sale yet, but I'd like to buy it," said Fluffy. "Nooooooooo problem," the woman said, taking the book and typing a code into her cash register. "Look, uh," Fluffy said, glancing at the cashier's name tag. "Doris--I'm a bit confused by the sarcasm. I'm not trying to give you a hard time--but why such disrespect? Like I said to Ben in the back, I don't particularly mind--but some of my fellow Hotel residents would likely be most pissed-off. Get it?" "Well," Doris said, continuing to type into the cash register. "I'm sorry. It's just that none of our regular customers get such special treatment. I'm just not used to being in the company of gods, and my life's been pretty depressing recently. I just get--fed up. Maybe I have PMS. I don't know." "Oh," Fluffy said "Well I understand, but some of my fellows most assuredly wouldn't. Just please take my advice and be as respectful and normal as possible when a god comes by. That's all I'm saying." "I appreciate the warning, but I tell you--my son works up at the Hotel, and he says you guys are just like normal people when someone gets to know you. So I find it hard to bow and scrape hearing the things I hear from him." "Oh that's great--why don't you tell a goddess some more about how your son blabbers around gossip about us? Real swift, Doris." "Well, I'm sorry, but that's just the way I feel. That'll be $24.95--you are exempt from taxes, I assume." "Yes I am," Fluffy said, handing over a $25 dollar bill. "It's one of the biggest perks of being in this figurehead business" "Thanks. Here's your nickel." Fluffy took the nickel, and departed, saying "If anyone else comes to get this book--just be real nice to 'em--that's all I'm saying." Fluffy walked out into the street, book in hand, back toward the Hotel. Many of the people Fluffy passed on the street stared at her, but this was to be expected. She felt comfortable with the Agoopi denizens, but at the same time very distant. Distance was her domain, and she could appreciate aesthetic qualities in it that others couldn't even begin to fathom. Soon Fluffy got back to the Hotel, and she noticed a huge banner hanging on the side of the immense building. It was in brown letters on a white background, reading "tanner loblolly--you can just forget about going to the dance with me tonight. i found someone else much better to go with. i don't even know why i asked you in the first place. i trust i won't see you there." Fluffy wondered what the hell the deal was with the banner. She knew of several gods and goddesses who were fond of putting up such banners--but who was Tanner Loblolly? -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 3: PECULIAR LATHER CHAPTER 9 SR-035 ============================== SRpl009--"Gullia Fair Verodare" ============================== Fluffy shrugged and entered the lobby and walked over to Cudworth, who was talking to a fat maintenance guy. "Hey Cuds--look what I found," Fluffy said, holding the Marv Metuchen the book up. "Huh? Uh?" Cudworth said, looking back and forth from the maintenance guy to Fluffy. "Oh--Fluffy! You found it! Bless you!" "No problem. I hope you like it. Personally, I'm not too big on Metuchen, but I can see the appeal. Apparently he's gotten much more popular recently. I like the title on this one, though." "Oh yes. Yes. 'Blankets Don't Generate Heat--People Generate Heat'. I almost remembered it right. Can't wait to read it," Cudworth said, admiring the cover of the book. "Oh, Fluffy--how much do I owe you?" "Don't worry about it Cudworth--this one's on the house." "Oh really--" "--no, I insist. Just remember this next time I get stuck in the elevator." "With these elevators? Forget it. Never happen. These new elevators are infallible and perfect. But thank you very much." "Famous last words. About the elevators I mean, not the thanks." Just then, Fluffy looked over toward the elevator bay and saw a guy walking around in circles and mumbling to himself. She stared at him, and Cudworth took notice. "He just came storming in here--says Janine wrote a banner outside breaking a date with him. Says he just got to Agoopish. Now he's trying to summon Janine. I tried to talk him out of it, but he's pretty far gone. I figure Janine'll straighten him out." "Yeah, one way or another," Fluffy said. "Summoning? Who ever heard of that anymore? Well excuse me--I don't want to miss this." "Check," Cudworth said. Fluffy moved over to a column near one side of the elevator bay and nonchalantly leaned against it, glancing over at the fellow who she assumed was the Tanner Loblolly from the banner. Tanner was tall, over six feet, and had messy dark brown hair down to his shoulders, and a thick unkempt beard, but no mustache. He wore a pair of brown rugged-pants, a gray sweater, a pair of shitty moccasins, and a lightweight black jacket with the words GULLIA FAIR VERODARE on the back in big yellow letters. His messy hair and general disorder instantly appealed to Fluffy. And the fact that he was trying to summon Janine Engineen, of all things, was highly amusing. Tanner continued meandering around, and muttering "Janine" over and over again. Then, all of a sudden, Janine disappeared in, hovering, with her back to the wall. Fluffy noted that the maps on Janine's shirt were writhing and animated to an unusually active degree--a sign that she was pretty pissed-off. She heard Tanner blurt out "Hey what's going on, huh? With that sign outside and stuff? If you didn't wanna go with me, why not just tell me? Why broadcast it all over the City? I wanted to go to a dance or something to get acquainted with some, y'know, some people on this world. What's the problem? What--what's YOUR problem? You were nice before in the theater." Janine had a smug look on her face, but Fluffy could tell she was holding her anger in. Then Janine looked up and saw Fluffy, and pointed toward her. "Ask her," Janine said simply. Then Janine disappeared out and was gone. Tanner turned toward Fluffy, and his eyes lit up. He stared at her with a naive and innocent sort of wondrous lust. Obviously this kid is totally lost and deluded, Fluffy thought. I'll be nice to him and help him since he seems to be a mortal and he's kinda cute with that hair and all. Tanner continued to stare. "Uh, hello there," Fluffy said. "Er, hello," Tanner responded, approaching hesitantly. "What was that all about?" "Well uh--this Janine uh--goddess--we just had a little--uh--a little disagreement." "Huh. You're lucky it was just a little one." "She said to ask you about it." "I heard her." "Oh." "You can ask me about it if you want, but I can't guarantee an answer." "I don't even know what the question is anymore." "That's not too helpful." "I know." Fluffy leaned back against the column. "So," she said "You the Tanner Loblolly mentioned on the banner outside?" Tanner looked away. "Yeah, that's me. Real nice of her to broadcast my name everywhere like that." "You know a lot of people here in Agoopish?" "No. I mean, just a few people. I've only been here a couple of hours." "Keep telling people that and you're likely to get taken advantage of. Don't you know deception's the name of the game around here? Always pretend to know even if you haven't the foggiest." "Sort of like college," he said. "I suppose so." Fluffy was gleeful at having found something amusing to do. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 3: PECULIAR LATHER CHAPTER 10 SR-036 ============================== SRpl010--"Cellar Sixteen" ============================== Tanner looked around nervously. "Well Tanner, I suppose I have you at a disadvantage. I am Fluffy Netherfuck of Agoopish, Goddess of Distance," she said as she extended her hand. "Uh, I'm Tanner Utopis Loblolly of Gullia Fair, um, college student and novice occultist," Tanner said, grasping her hand. "Pleased to meet you," Fluffy said as she shook his hand with exaggerated vigor. As they were shaking hands, Tanner got light headed and felt a tingling sensation in his groin. He stumbled backward a little in dizziness. "You okay?" Fluffy asked. "Yeah," Tanner said, regaining his composure, "yeah. I'm fine. Fine." "What's the matter--never touched a goddess before?" "Uh--um--no, I don't think so. I think you're the first one I've ever touched. As far as I know." "Well that's exciting. Your first contact and all." "Yeah." "So anyway Tanner, I'm not especially busy right now, so if you'd like, we could go downstairs and relax and talk about you and Janine and stuff," Fluffy said as she walked over to the elevators and pressed the down button. "Yeah. I mean, sure. Let's go," Tanner said, following her to the elevators. "We can go down to Cellar Sixteen--that's usually a fun little venue." Tanner looked around nervously. "So I take it you're from out of town," Fluffy said. "Yeah. I just got in. I--I mean I just found it really, Agoopish. I never knew it was real. Always thought it was a myth," Tanner said, looking at Fluffy. "Thank goodness most earthlings do. This City's crowded enough as it is." "I don't know how I'm taking this so calmly. I mean, I would have thought I'd totally go spaz finding out Agoopish was real and going there." Fluffy suddenly remembered her long sleep and the mental note she made to be wary for anything out of the ordinary. Could she wind up in some misadventure with this mortal? It was possible, but she doubted it. He WAS apt to get into trouble, however. One of the elevators sounded a bell and the doors slid open. Fluffy motioned for Tanner to enter, and then followed him in. She pushed the button marked C-16, and the doors closed. They began whurring downwards. "So you'd heard stuff about Agoopish before you came here?" Fluffy said. "Yeah," Tanner said "You know--in books and stuff in the school library there are stories and reports on Agoopish and the other Avert Cities. What are the other ones--Blamnoom, Felptash, Ocpadusk--and isn't there a smaller city without any gods, called Boltpike? Yeah. But no one seems to take this information seriously." "Well, the thing is, earthlings are mindwise repelled from accepting such a thing as Agoopish. Even if faced with undoubtable evidence, they'll disbelieve. So the fact that you're here and coping with it makes you a mortal for sure." "Isn't everyone--every non-god--a mortal?" "No--in our semantics, mortals are those who can travel from Earth to the Cities freely, and handle the illogic of it all." The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened, revealing Cellar Sixteen, a large open area with plush red carpet, fountains, indoor plants, lounges, and lots of people hanging around. Also, on the far side of the space was a subway platform, and a subway was just pulling out. Tanner and Fluffy exited the elevator. "Well I guess I'm a mortal then. Is that like something great or something?" "Why Tanner my dear--being a mortal's almost as good as being a god--maybe even better." "Huh?" "I can see you've got a lot to learn. Let's go get some coffee." "Okay." They strode across the Cellar toward a coffee bar. "You like coffee?" Fluffy asked. "Yeah, sure. Drink it all the time," Tanner answered. "They have great coffee here," Fluffy said "The best. We call it Tan Venom." "Cool," Tanner said. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 3: PECULIAR LATHER CHAPTER 11 SR-037 ============================== SRpl011--"Tan Venom" ============================== Tanner was looking around at the variety of gods and mortals milling about the place. He suddenly felt extremely good about himself, and thought it was really cool that he was hanging out with a goddess. They got to the coffee bar and Fluffy ordered two full-strength Tan Venoms. The attendant produced the beverages posthaste and placed them on the counter. The cups were white Styrofoam with a blue Supbam Hotel logo on the sides. Fluffy took them both, and then handed one to Tanner. "Careful--it's hot," she said. "Okay." They walked over to a cozy little open lounge which had scattered tables surrounded by sofas, went over to a sofa, and sat down. "So how do you like Cellar Sixteen?" Fluffy asked. "It's tremendous--like all the other places here." "So you like Agoopish." "Yeah. Yes. Definitely. It's the greatest place I've ever been, by far. Totally belgrade." "You simply must tell me how you found your way here--I'd love to hear about it." "Well," Tanner said, putting his cup down on the table. "It was basically just that a friend of someone we know had a dream about this electrical station, about crawling through it and stuff, and we heard that some people tried it and all sorts of weirdie things happened. So we--me and my two friends--were waiting for a ride from my father, but we had a couple hours to wait, so we went along the rails and then found ourselves over a huge canyon, and then we got to, I think, the outskirts of the City." "The hinterland." "Yeah. So anyway, we explored a little bit, and we eventually wound up in an underground mall--on the Cellar Four level I think." "Yeah, I know the one you mean." "And we went into a movie theater, and that's where we met Janine and a couple other goddesses. Janine asked me to the dance, and another one said that if we just arrived, we should split up for at least six hours, to help invigorate our intermingling energies or something." "Who told you this?" "A goddess. I think her name was 'El Flacto' something." "El Flactor Floor?" "Yeah that's it." "Oh her. She probably knows what she's talking about. She's into the whole hinterland thing, you know." "What do you mean by hinterland?" "Oh, you know--the outlying areas. Where you can find your way to Earth. Only, gods can't go through alone--we get all dizzy and disoriented out there--we need mortals to lead us through. And even with a guide, it's a bit of a harrowing experience." "So you can only go to Earth with a mortal as a guide?" "Yeah. So most of us avoid Earth because it's a bit of an ego deflater to be so helpless." "I see. And the normal people in the City--they can't make it either?" "Nope. The denizens have a mental block or something about Earth--and even if forced to go, they have the same disorientation as gods. They're pretty useless, except as cheap labor." "Well that's pretty good to have." "Yeah, but if you think about it, most of what they do is to support their own population. We certainly wouldn't need this many to meet the requirements of the god and mortal populations." "Well you could deport them. Or genocide them." "Yeah, that's the way. You must have a pretty severe view of us deities." "Ah, just kidding, y'know." "Yeah... It just seems these denizens are getting too full of themselves these days. They lack a basic level of respect for the deity community. I mean, I know you hear a lot about equality and stuff, but in the end, we ARE gods, and they're--well--they're denizens." "Yeah." "So when do you have to meet your friends?" "Uh," Tanner said, looking at his digital watch. "I guess in a couple of hours. I'm gonna meet them by that fountain." "That fountain? Tanner, there are thousands of fountains in the City--which one do you mean?" "The one near that movie theater in the mall off Cellar Four, I think." "Yeah, I know the one you mean," Fluffy said. "Are there really thousands of fountains in Agoopish, as opposed to like hundreds?" "Yup. That's an interesting feature of Agoopish--all the fountains." "When were they all built?" "Oh, I don't know. Over the centuries. Whatever." "How long has this City been here?" "Oh, since the dawn of time of course." "Hmm..." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 3: PECULIAR LATHER CHAPTER 12 SR-038 ============================== SRpl012--"This Supernatural Urbania" ============================== Fluffy sipped her coffee and studied Tanner's features. He seemed sincere and earnest and lacking anything to hide. She sort of felt sorry that he had stumbled into the whole deranged milieu of Agoopish. "Tanner, you look a little tense," Fluffy remarked. "Yeah, I suppose. I'm just running on dream logic and, uh, stuff right now. When I finally sit down and realize what's going on, I'll be in trouble. This whole Agoopish thing is remarkably shocking." "Well, I can't really relate, since I've been living here for all time. So nothing really seems so new or shocking to me." "How--now if you don't mind me asking--how, uh, how old are you?" "Well if I were an earthling or denizen woman I suppose I'd be reticent, but as a goddess, I've no problem. See, I've been here in Agoopish always." "What do you mean--that you're infinitely old?" "No Tanner, not infinity, but since the dawn of time." "That's like--isn't that like twenty billion years ago or something? You're saying that you're twenty billion years old?" "Look Tanner, it's not something you can measure in years--we've just always been here." "But you must have memories of your life. How far back can you remember?" "Look, let's talk about this later, hey? Now Tanner--how old are you?" "Well, it's not as impressive, but I'm nineteen." "That's a fine age." "You must think I'm awfully young." "You'll find that when you're ageless, age means very little to you." "I could see that," Tanner said. They sat in silence for a few moments. A calm female voice speaking over a public address system was reciting a series of numbers. "415... 80 ... 611... 552..." Tanner considered asking Fluffy what the numbers meant, but he didn't want to seem ignorant. "Oh look," Fluffy said, nodding her head in the direction of the coffee bar, "there's a god you don't see around here too often." Tanner looked over. "His name's Cxoven Greatcicle--the big tundra deity. A real effem type, if you see what I mean. Sort of keeps to his own little band of pals and hangers on. I wonder what he's doing here?" "Hmm," Tanner said, sipping his coffee. "Cudworth tells me he's throwing a big party for everyone, but I find that hard to believe." "Cudworth is the guy in the lobby?" "Yeah." "I thought so. I was talking to him before." "About Janine?" "Yeah. I was just walking around the outside of the Hotel when I saw that banner Janine put up. Y'know, I was really riding high on being in this... this supernatural urbania, if you will, and being invited to a dance by a goddess. And man, did that banner ever sour my bliss." "Well, one of the things you have to learn very quickly is that you should be cautious and modest here if you're ignorant of our culture, customs, and laws. I dare say you have little if any real knowledge about Agoopish." "I don't. I admit it." "So it was a bit unwise of you to go and summon Janine, don't you think?" "Well I'd read that if you had a legitimate gripe with a god or goddess, that you could summon them and they'd have to appear." "Well, that does work, I suppose, but so would picking up the phone or writing a letter. I mean, if someone summoned me for such a trivial thing, I'd be totally pissed. When you're summoned, you have to drop everything and disappear out right away." "But Janine knew I was from out of town, and I think she just led me on to be mean." "I'm not so sure of that. I think she misinterpreted what you were saying, and after she found out that you had really just discovered Agoopish, she understandably had apprehensions about going to a dance with you. I mean, it could be most embarrassing if your date knew nothing of Agoopi etiquette and form." "Well I didn't think of it like that--but what about the banner? How can you justify that?" "Well Tanner, first of all, me and Janine don't get along, so I'm not trying to defend her. But being a fellow goddess, I can understand where she's coming from. And the banner--that really is a traditional way for a god to convey an urgent message to someone if he or she is not to be found through normal means." "But the degrading tone..." "She is a rather degrading person, but that's her right. Gods and goddesses have the right to have whatever personality they desire. But something you might not realize is that it is an Agoopi custom that once a date is made, it must be officially broken before other arrangements can be made. So by hanging the banner she officially broke the date--whether or not you saw it. It's assumed that if you didn't see it, someone you know would surely see it hanging there and tell you of it." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 3: PECULIAR LATHER CHAPTER 13 SR-039 ============================== SRpl013--"Little Red Thread" ============================== "But it's still embarrassing," Tanner said. "Well," Fluffy responded, "another thing you should know is that even though gods and mortals intermingle comfortably, the official structure is that gods are supreme over mortals. So though you might take offense at Janine, it is not proper to express that offense to her. And believe me--Janine could have been much more severe with you for summoning her. But, though she is a bitch, she is basically fair. She plainly realizes you are ignorant of our ways." "Well..." "So just put the entire matter out of your head--and stay away from Janine. And especially--don't go to that dance." "I don't even know where it is." "Good. Don't even find out. If you go there, you'll be in for trouble. And if things went crazy, you wouldn't be able to defend yourself." "I took some judo in grade school." "Here, such as judo is vapor." "Eh." From the other side of the lounge, there was some activity. A little meeting was in the process of ending. Both Tanner and Fluffy looked over. A guy in a purple Colonial-America style outfit was facing away from them and talking to someone who was seated. He looked around and saw Fluffy, waved to her, then held his finger up as in saying "I'll be with you in a minute". The fellow was tall and of a heavy build, with short black hair and a stubble beard. His face had a childish chisel to it, and his eyes were very intent and piercing. "Who's that guy?" Tanner asked Fluffy. "Him? He's Mem Elemorty." "A god?" Fluffy paused, and then said, "Yup." "Huh," Tanner said, sipping his coffee again. Mem Elemorty was laughing and saying good-bye to a few people. Then he turned and came walking over to Fluffy and Tanner. He had a cane, and was using it aid his limping stride. "Is he injured?" asked Tanner. "No. He just limps because he thinks it's cool. And also because it gives him a reason to carry that stupid cane around wherever he goes." "Huh." Mem came over, and following him was a tiny, stout, tan weasel creature. Tanner looked at the creature, and saw that a piece of red thread was floating along in front of the creature. Tanner produced a perplexed grimace. "Tanner, before you say or do anything, listen--that little creature is a goddess, and the piece of thread in front of her is also a goddess. So be nice," Fluffy warned. Tanner looked over at Fluffy with an incredulous expression and was in the process of uttering "What?!" when the three arrived at the sofa. "Well hello there Fluffy," Mem said. "Hi Mem," Fluffy responded. "I see introductions are in order. Lo, allow me the honor. I am Mem Elemorty of Agoopish, God of Tomes. And you, friend? Who are you?" "Me?" Tanner asked. "Mem, this is Tanner Utopis Loblolly of Gullia Fair--mortal, college student, and novice occultist." "I seeeeeeeeeeeeee," Mem said, sitting down. "Well Tanner Utopis, allow me to introduce you to my two good friends..." Mem motioned toward the cute little weasel and the six-inch length of red thread, just as the weasel was climbing onto the sofa and the thread was floating toward Tanner. "Floating before you," Mem continued, "is Little Red Thread of Agoopish, Goddess of Arithmetic. Lo, don't let her appearance fool you. She's a firebrand, sure." "Hi there," Little Red Thread said to Tanner. Her voice was rich and female and natural and adorable, and came from right where she was floating. "Uh, hi," Tanner said, recoiling a little, and wearing a worried look. He struggled to come up with a hypothesis as to how a piece of thread could talk, but was unable to think clearly. Little Red Thread came near Tanner, and then floated all the way around his head. "Lo, and this, Tanner Utopis," Mem said, pointing to the weasel, "is the most irresistible of ragamuffins, Little Fisher of Agoopish, Goddess of Tea." Little Fisher stood up on her hind legs and made sign language motions to Tanner with her paws. She was a rather diminutive fisher, cute as a button, and very clever-looking. "She say's she's pleased to meet you, and to pay no heed to Mem's flowery speaking," Thread said. "Um--pleased to meet you, uh, also," Tanner said to Fisher. Fisher nodded to Tanner. "She's mute, the poor thing," Fluffy said. "Fishers have neither the vocal cords nor the oral agility to speak. But rest assured, she's as sagaciously sapient as the rest of us." "Speak for yourself, hmm," Mem said "Last time I checked, I was fine on sagacity, but a little low on sapience. Haw! Haw! Haw!" Mem's laugh was nerdy, loud, and grating. Tanner was nervous. "So Tanner," Thread said, floating around his head again, "tell us of yourself. You're from Gullia Fair in the Confederen Areas?" "He just got in, Thread," Fluffy said. "And I do mean just. In fact, he only discovered Agoopish a few hours ago--so be easy on him." "How exciting!" Thread said. "You must tell us of your journey." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 3: PECULIAR LATHER CHAPTER 14 SR-040 ============================== SRpl014--"Bicentennial Cane" ============================== "Uh, well," Tanner began, "it was, uh, me and a few of my friends, and we heard about how this electrical station was supposed to lead to some weirdie place, and we were waiting for a ride from my dad, so we went along the railroad--" "This was in Gullia Fair?" Mem asked. "Yeah," Tanner said. "Uh-huh," Mem muttered. "So anyway," Tanner continued, "we crawled along on the railroad tracks, and..." So Tanner told the tale of his coming to Agoopish, with frequent interruptions from Mem to clarify some detail or other. After about ten minutes, Tanner was just about done. "...so then I met Fluffy and we came down here. Then you guys came over," Tanner concluded. "Boy Tanner, you certainly drew a bad number in tangling with Janine Engineen as soon as you arrived," Thread said. "Yeah," Tanner said. "I figure I should be more careful when it comes to going on dates with deities." "That's for sure," Thread responded. "So," Fluffy said. "What was that meeting all about? Another one of your game thingies?" "Welllllllllllllllllllllll," Mem said in a dramatic tone, looking to the side briefly, "we were planning another of our pan-City game campaigns, based upon formality and mathematics, where we will play games and perform rituals in different parts of the City at different times, and record the whole affair, thus producing a macro-dance-design of sorts." "Sounds great," Fluffy said. "Well to be quite honest Fluffy, this is one of the best ones yet," Mem said. "What sort of games do you have here?" Tanner asked, hesitantly. "Well, Tanner Utopis..." Mem began, but Tanner looked over at Fluffy, and she interrupted. "Uh Mem--I think he prefers just to be called Tanner," Fluffy said. "Well Tanner," Mem said, looking at Fluffy briefly, "we have a great number of games here. But the three we're concentrating on now are Derelict, Nitrogen Autumn, and Be." "They sound pretty cool. I'm into games too, y'know," Tanner said. "Well how nice," Mem said. Silence for several moments. "Mem, why don't you show Tanner your cane?" Fluffy said. Little Fisher stood up and did some more sign language. "She says not to let Mem talk your ear off about his dumb cane," Little Red Thread said. "Well," Mem said, lifting his cane onto his knees, "this, Tanner, is the famed Bicentennial Cane." "Hmm," Tanner said, nodding and leaning forward. "Lo, it was given me by the great hermit craftsman 55-Yunyusk of Chon just before he vanished, over twenty years ago. Legend has it that he spent 200 years crafting the Cane..." Mem grasped the handle of the Cane and gave it a little twist, then pulled on the handle, which produced odd mechanical-sounding noises, and revealed an opening, wherein the spines of several diminutive books became visible. "...and stocking it with the greatest works of literature, science, philosophy and everything else--in miniature form. Fully, there are over 19,000 volumes contained within the cane. And see, this concealed button near the handle scrolls the inner bookshelf to the left, or the right." Mem demonstrated by pressing the button, and the visible row of books moved slowly to the right, then to the left, revealing more books. "Wow that's excellent!" Tanner exclaimed, genuinely impressed. "But how could 19,000 books fit in there, even at that small size?" "Lo, no one knows," Mem said. "But experts agree that it is a marvel of mechanics, and that no occultism is used in its operation. Indeed, the Cane seems impossible. It is a grand mystery. Only 55-Yunyusk knows for sure how it works." "All those books were inside when you got it?" Tanner asked. "Why yes," Mem said. "Have you put any more in since then, or taken them all out at once?" Tanner asked. "Er, no," Mem said "I wouldn't want to disrupt the perfect set of volumes 55-Yunyusk chose. And no, I only take out one at a time, as the great craftsman himself advised." "Well then, maybe there are only a few books, but their shape and color and text can be changed by internal mechanisms according to digitally stored information," Tanner said. Mem looked at him, surprised for a moment. "Eh, ideas such as that have been suggested, but as I said, only 55-Yunyusk knows for sure," Mem said, closing the panel on the side of the cane. "What's that on the other side of the handle?" Tanner asked, pointing. "Oh," Mem answered, "just a magnifying array and bookstand, for easy perusal of the tomes within." "Hmm," Tanner said, nodding. Mem looked around, apparently disquieted by Tanner's theory on the cane. "So Tanner," Thread said, floating motionless a little above the sofa next to Tanner. "What sort of games do you like to play?" -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 3: PECULIAR LATHER CHAPTER 15 SR-041 ============================== SRpl015--"Distantwind House" ============================== "Uh..." Tanner said. "Well we have this game we play now where we have to come up with weird ideas, and then write them down in notebooks, and then use that base of ideas as a sort of simulated academic rivalry thing, describing essays we would write, research we would do, etc. Sort of like rival metaphysics departments at different universities. We call it Distantwind House." Mem stared at Tanner with a concerned expression on his face. Fluffy smirked a little. Fisher yawned and signed to Tanner. Thread interpreted--"She wants to know who invented the game, and how long you've been playing." "Well, uh, Little Fisher, uh, I made up most of it, but I had help from some of my friends. Especially Minion Van Hall--he's one of the friends who came here with me." Fisher signed again, and Thread translated "This Distantwind House sounds like fun--would you consider teaching me and my friends how to play it sometime?" "Sure!" Tanner said. "In fact, Martin Fovea is also here in Agoopish, and he plays too. We could set something up sometime, I'm sure." "You planning on staying in Agoopish for awhile?" Thread asked. "Uh, well, I just got here, and I'm not exactly sure what my plans are. But if it's at all possible I'd sure like to stay. I wasn't prepared to find a paranormal city this afternoon, to tell you the truth," Tanner said. "What are some of the ideas in this Distantwind House game?" Thread asked. "Well, a few of the ones I did recently were, like, one was if you sleep exactly nine hours--to the millisecond--something devastatingly bizarre will happen. Another one was could there be a place where Thursdays only come along once in awhile? Oh, and a good one I came up with the other day was doubling your life by writing on the other side. Y'know--like a piece of paper or something. Also we get a lot of ideas from that TV show 'Johnny Pitch'." "Johnny Pitch?" Mem asked. "Where have I heard that name before?" "Well, it's an old TV show from Boolevathers, based loosely on the Essevent deck of occult cards." "Certainly--Johnny Pitch is a card in that deck," Mem said. "Yeah--and there are other characters from the deck, and a lot of other cool characters too. Me and my friends watch it all the time. They just started broadcasting it in Gullia Fair last year." "Sounds fascinating. Lo, tell me something of it, Tanner," Mem said. "Well, right now in it, Johnny is being harassed by this guy Daniel Odd, only he doesn't know that it's his twin brother, see. And Bookfaye, Johnny's girlfriend, is being held prisoner in the basement of a library by the ghost of the poet Libro Gesessnar. He's fighting the ghost of Pervellack Slochlin, another colonial poet guy. Speedy Chill and Mouse Powder are lost in A Rainy Town, and Darkfreen the ultra warlock is up to his old tricks. And the typesetter Whawque St. Wave is helping the jester Treezle Trookus hide--but is putting him to work as well, and Johnny's friend, Alex Mammonville, is researching into the legendary Ebsekkian, Evil Master of Weirdness, and Tendril Davy got killed--again--and, and, and the pion fiends Infoflfam and Fwhich get trapped in an evil movie theater, and, and, uh, lots of stuff," Tanner said. "I see you really like the show," Fluffy said, finishing up her coffee. "Yes," Mem said, "we must get Blankablark to put this 'Johnny Pitch' program into his schedule." "Blankablark?" Tanner asked. "Yes," Fluffy said. "Adlai Blankablark runs one of the two TV stations here in Agoopish. And sometimes he imports shows from Earth to broadcast." "Can't you get any Earth TV stations here?" Tanner asked. "Well," Thread said "We can't receive any broadcasts from Earth, but with this new cable TV thing you have over there, we should be able pipe Earth TV in, just as in the case of the phone lines." "But of course Blankie isn't too thrilled at the prospect of Earth TV dissipating his audience," Fluffy said. Little Fisher squeaked and nodded. Tanner finished his coffee, slurping loudly. Silence for a while. Mem pulled a watch from his vest and frowned as he looked at it. "Is that the time?" Mem said, getting up with the aid of his cane "Well I must be off. Lo, Fisher and Thread, I trust you two will be at the next meeting?" "Certainly," Thread said. Fisher nodded and yawned again. "Maybe Tanner could come to the next meeting too," Thread said. Mem glanced at Tanner, looked him over for a few seconds, and then said "Why certainly. I'd like to hear some more about this game of his." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 3: PECULIAR LATHER CHAPTER 16 SR-042 ============================== SRpl016--"Violent Evan" ============================== Tanner looked confused. "So whatta you say Tanner? Would you like to go to their meeting?" Fluffy asked him. "Uh, sure. I'd really like to. But--when is it?" "Oh, next week at some point," Mem said. "Okay," Tanner said "But I can't guarantee I'll even be here, in Agoopish." "See," Fluffy said, "Tanner hasn't exactly worked out an easy way to get back and forth. And Tanner, I assume you still have to go to school?" "Yeah, I guess so, but I'd drop out in a second if I could get a job around here or something." Fluffy smiled. "Tanner, I'm sure you'll work something out when you've been fully educated in the ways of the Agoopi mortal," she said. "Well I'm off. Nice to meet you Tanner," Mem said as he held out his hand. Tanner got up and shook Mem's hand. Mem's grip was very strong, and it hurt Tanner's hand a little, but he tried to hide the pain. "Good to meet you, uh, too," Tanner said, nodding. "Farewell folks," Mem said, and he limped off toward the elevators. The remaining four sat in silence for several moments. "Well Tanner," Thread said, "I hope me and Fisher can get together before the next meeting with you and your friends, to hear some more about your game." "Sure," Tanner said. "Did I see Dealowl over at your meeting?" Fluffy asked Little Fisher. Fisher signed and Thread translated--"Why yes. He seems to have acquired an interest in games of late. Of course he has some ulterior motive, though none of us can fathom it." "Who's Dealowl?" Tanner asked. Thread answered. "He's this owl god who does all sorts of stuff for people--so long as he gets a good deal for himself in the process." "Huh," Tanner uttered. "So," Fluffy said, "whattaya say we show Tanner around Cellar Sixteen, girls?" "Sounds good to me," said Little Red Thread. Little Fisher nodded casually. Fluffy got up and stretched. "Let's go look at the balcony first," Fluffy suggested. Tanner got up, and they all started moving toward the center of the Cellar, Thread floating and Fisher scrambling along behind them. They got to the center of the floor, where there was an octagonal balcony, about 30 feet across, looking down into the floor below, Cellar Seventeen. Cellar Seventeen was a huge space, extremely dark, with a ceiling height much greater than that of C-16. Looking down, the four could see lights of various colors moving around, but couldn't make out much else. Also, cold air was blasting up through the opening. "That's Cellar Seventeen, Tanner," Fluffy said. "It's a weird place--like a perpetual chill nighttime. A lot of plotting goes on down there." "Cool," Tanner said. "More like cold," Thread said. "Too cold for me." Tanner nodded. "Are all the cellars different?" Tanner asked. "Well," Fluffy said, "around here, like from Fifteen to Nineteen, it gets pretty weird, but the others aren't quite as diverse." "Huh," Tanner said. "And over there, you can see the subway platform. That's one of the deeper subway lines, but with connections, it can take you just about anywhere in the City," Fluffy said. "Excellent!" Tanner said. "That's so cool how it comes through here like that." Fluffy led them on, across a bridge over a little artificial river and waterfall and waterwheel, and came to one of the walls of the Cellar, facing a window about six feet wide and four feet tall. Inside, there was apparently a three-dimensional diorama, such as one might see in a museum. It was nighttime and raining hard with lightning piercing the sky in the background. The landscape was dark and marshy, and hills could be seen in the distance. The rain and thunder were just barely audible. Near the window was a miniature hippopotamus, about the size of a raccoon. "What the hell is this, Fluffy?" Tanner asked, dumbfounded. "This is a pretty weird thing, Tanner," Fluffy said. "It's sort of a portal looking into another universe--a sideuniverse, if you will. That hippo in there, that's Violent Evan, God of Rainfall. Ages ago, he was experimenting in extreme areas of the occult, and wound up trapping himself in this little universe of his own creation. It was all the greatest occult minds of Supbam could do to create this viewportal, which follows Evan around this little world. "My god," Tanner said. Thread laughed. "Tanner, every new arrival to Agoopish uses that phrase at least once, but if you think about it, a more appropriate expletive would be 'my goodness', if you see what I mean." "Huh?" Tanner said, then "Oh--I see. 'My god' is a bit too ambiguous in a city of gods, I guess. 'My goodness' it will be. So--my goodness--this is unbelievable, this portal." "Yeah," Fluffy said "And what's even weirder is that Evan eats swamp vegetation and then vomits this black stuff--wait a second--it looks like he's about to vomit now..." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 3: PECULIAR LATHER CHAPTER 17 SR-043 ============================== SRpl017--"Chive Moron" ============================== Violent Evan lurched forward and was still for a few seconds. Then in a great heave he vomited forth a mass of black goo. Then he turned and walked off. The portal, as if it were a TV screen, followed him through the swamp. "Damn," Tanner said. "Yeah--" Fluffy said, "and that black stuff is called 'murder'--and it always seems to disappear soon after Evan vomits it. It's thought that unknown gods collect it in some manner and use it for their own sinister ends." "Wow," Tanner muttered. "But of course that's just a rumor," Thread said. "Of course," Fluffy added, sarcastically. "I don't like that hippo," Fisher signed, and Thread translated. Suddenly, a gunshot was heard over by the subway tracks. A guy in a green jumpsuit scrambled up onto the platform from the tracks below, and was stumbling away when a hand shot up from below and grabbed his ankle, tripping him. Tanner and Fluffy looked over. "Looks like quite an altercation," Thread said. Still grabbing the guy's ankle, a thin woman dressed in a revealing black leather outfit climbed onto the platform. She had short black hair, a black cape, and a variety of equipment on her person--guns, grenades, ammo, umbrellas, etc. She held a pistol to the guy's head, and then produced a piece of rope or something and wrapped it around his neck. "What the--" Tanner started. "Oh--it's that mortal detective, Cursive Caxopy, I think," Fluffy said. "Yeah, that's Cursive Caxopy all right--and hard at work, from the looks of it," Thread commented. Cursive Caxopy then roughly pulled the man to his feet and slapped him across the face. He looked weakened and was grabbing at his neck. Then a subway pulled in, and when it stopped and opened its doors, Cursive roughly pushed the man in. Then the subway departed. "Gee," Tanner said, "is that what mortals do around here?" "Some of them," Fluffy said. "Cursive and her sister Elaine are into the whole rough thing, but most mortals are a bit more reserved. Anyway, why don't we go and see the pinball alcove now? I don't enjoy gawking at Evan all day." "Sounds good to me!" Tanner said. As Tanner Loblolly, Fluffy Netherfuck, and Little Red Thread were leaving the Evan portal, a weird little guy came up to them. He was short, pudgy, wore thick-lensed eyeglasses, had thinning light blond hair, and looked extremely nerdy and pathetic. "Uh--uh--uh--" he stuttered urgently. "Oh, it's you Chive Moron. Hello," Fluffy said. "Eh--uh--the--" Chive Moron continued. "What's the matter?" Thread asked. "Ta--Fisher--ta--" he said. "What?" Fluffy asked. "Ta--Fisher--kindap--" "What about Little Fisher?" Thread asked. "Ta--kindap--Fisher kindap--" " Kidnapped?" Fluffy asked "Fisher was kidnapped?" "R--r--r--" Chive Moron stuttered hopelessly. "Look!" Tanner said, pointing to a door on the other side of the Cellar. They heard Fisher squeal as they saw the door slam. "Shit! Fisher's been kidnapped!" Thread said. "Yeah--let's go!" Fluffy said as she broke into a run across the floor. Tanner and Thread followed. They reached the door and Fluffy swung it open. They saw shadows at the other end of the upwardly-slanting corridor. "Where does this lead?" Tanner asked as they ran up the hallway. "Parking garage," Fluffy answered. Tanner had difficulty keeping up with Fluffy, even running as fast as he could. They got to a steel door to the right at the end of the corridor, and Fluffy tried to open it, but it was locked. "Shit! They locked it!" Fluffy exclaimed. "Stand back Tanner." Tanner backed away, and then Fluffy stood motionless for a few seconds with a look of rage on her face. She brought her arm back and then powerfully punched the door with an immense force, denting it and knocking it off its hinges. The door was still hanging on, so she kicked it twice, and the door fell. "Jeez!" Tanner exclaimed. "Come on!" Fluffy yelled. They stepped out into the parking garage just as a dirty blue station wagon passed by the door. They could see Little Fisher in the back window motioning and screaming for help. "Damn it!" Fluffy exclaimed as she started running in the opposite direction as the station wagon was headed. "Where are we going?" Tanner huffed as he followed her. "To my car of course!" she yelled. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 3: PECULIAR LATHER CHAPTER 18 SR-044 ============================== SRpl018--"Lasso" ============================== They ran for about thirty seconds, weaving around columns and stairwells, then ran down a flight of stairs and came to Fluffy's automobile, a little white sports car with gray trim. Fluffy took out her key, opened the door, and told Tanner and Thread to get in. Tanner got in next to her and Thread darted in as he was closing the door. Fluffy started the car, revved the engine, and sped out of the parking spot. "Damn it," Fluffy said. "We don't know where the hell they went." "Fluffy, if you give me a second, I can use my remote viewing powers to see where they are," Thread said. "Oh that's right--you can find them! Man oh man, these suckers are chopped meats now," Fluffy said. Fluffy drove her car though the maze of the parking garage at breakneck speed. Tanner was holding on for dear life. They skidded around a corner and came to an extremely steep ramp leading upward at nearly a 45-degree angle. Fluffy stormed up it, accelerating to about 80 mph. "Holy shit!" Tanner said, shutting his eyes. Fluffy laughed and sped up. The ramp was extremely long, and they continued up it for the better part of a minute. Finally, as the opening to the surface was in sight, Fluffy asked Thread if she had a sighting yet. "Just a second, Fluffy--yes--they're on the Service Road heading for Highway 4000!" Thread said. "Perfect!" Fluffy exclaimed "I know a good shortcut." They burst out into the late afternoon outskirts of the City. Fluffy drove along recklessly, turning sharply onto several increasingly unmaintained streets, finally rounding a curve and driving into a mass of tall weeds. Tanner was petrified as they sped through the field of weeds, unable to see where they were going. "Fluffy, I never heard of this shortcut," Thread said. "Never mind that--where are they?" Fluffy asked. "Um--" Thread said "they're just turning onto the highway now--about a mile away. But Fluffy, I don't know if this is such a good shortcut--" Suddenly they burst out of the weeds and into midair several hundred feet above the ground, falling toward Highway 4000 below. "Shit!" Fluffy exclaimed as she rolled down her window and climbed halfway out of the car. They were falling perpendicular to the highway, so Fluffy took out a rope, lassoed a streetlight on the highway, and tensed herself. With a lurch, the car orbited the streetlight twice, and then roughly landed on the highway below. Fluffy immediately wriggled back into her seat and hit the gas. They wailed wildly down the highway. Tanner yelled "How the fuck did you do that!?" "Practice," Fluffy said, and she laughed crazily. The car had sustained some damage in the crash landing, and was swaying back and forth and they tore ahead in excess of 120 mph. "Where are they now?" Fluffy asked. "I--they got off on an exit about two miles ahead, but I lost them," Thread said. "No problem," Fluffy said as they sped onward. In about a minute they got to the exit Thread was referring to, and followed it onto a dirt road. "Look--an accident up ahead!" Thread yelled. Fluffy said nothing, but skidded to a halt behind the wrecked blue station wagon. "That's the car, all right," Thread said. "This is a total fiasco," Fluffy said, getting out of the car. Fluffy and Thread went up to the accident. Tanner slowly got out of the car, so nerveshot that he was barely able to move. Looking at the accident, Fluffy and Thread saw a Hispanic family in the wreckage--all dead. There was a man, a woman, and three young children. "Where the hell is Fisher?" Fluffy asked. "Look! In the tree!" Thread said as Tanner approached the wreck. Little Fisher was in the branches of a dry dead tree, squealing in panic and struggling to maintain her balance, a huge drop into a canyon below her. "Oh no!" Fluffy said. "We have to save her!" Tanner said blaringly. Tanner looked at Fluffy, then ran over to the tree and began to climb it. "Tanner no!" Fluffy yelled. "He looks pretty shaken from your driving," Thread said. Out in the tree, Tanner was struggling to get to where Fisher was dangling. "I'll save you..." he said. Then the tree, losing its rooting, began to lurch forward. Fisher fell, squealing. Tanner desperately tried to save himself by grabbing a larger branch, but the branch snapped, and he also fell. As Tanner fell, he saw Fisher hit the ground below, but instead of smashing up, she just bounced. Then Tanner felt a tug at his ankle and watched helplessly as he slammed hard with a thud into the face of the cliff. Fluffy had lassoed his ankle, and was pulling him back up. When she finally got him back to the edge of the cliff, he was unconscious from the impact. "I hope he's okay--" Thread said. "Oh he's okay," Fluffy said. " I can see he's made of pretty tough stuff." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 3: PECULIAR LATHER CHAPTER 19 SR-045 ============================== SRpl019--"Chonesteeze Max" ============================== Soon Tanner came to, and the three found a trail leading down into the canyon below. At the bottom, they found Fisher fighting with a gang of weird, skinny, multicolored, angular cats. As they approached, the cats all stopped fighting with Little Fisher and stared at Tanner. As he got closer, they opened their eyes wide in amazement and shied away from him, eventually lurking off. "That's weird," Fluffy said. " The anglecats appear to be scared of you, Tanner." "I'm not surprised, considering what a mess I am," Tanner responded. "No, I mean it. It's not normal for those creatures to act that way," Fluffy said. "Well, at least they're gone," Tanner said. Little Fisher squealed with joy and ran towards the three, jumping up into Fluffy's arms. "Those jerks kidnapped me, but I made them crash," Fisher signed, and Thread translated. "Good for you!" Thread said. The four hiked back up to Fluffy's car and got in. Fluffy got her cellular phone from a belt pouch and dialed it. "Hello?" she said. "--yeah--this is Fluffy--yeah--listen--listen--some more of these damn extremists are crashed and totally killed out here on Highway 4000--okay--will do." Fluffy hung up. They drove back to the parking garage, the car swaying rhythmically from side to side. Finally they got back to Cellar Sixteen. Little Fisher and Little Red Thread bade farewell. "Tanner, you look awfully tired. Would you like to come up to my room and get some sleep?" Fluffy offered. "Yeah, that sounds great," Tanner said, yawning. "But I have to meet my friends soon..." "Don't worry, I'll go and meet them for you and tell them where you are." "You could do that?" "Sure, no problem." "Thanks. And I'm sorry I lost it back there and went into the tree--I was just really shaken up, y'know?" "Don't worry about it--you acted very bravely." They went over to the elevators, and took one up to the 50th floor. Then they entered Fluffy's suite. "Well, this is where I live, Tanner," Fluffy said. "Cool," Tanner remarked, looking around in wonder. "I'm going to take a shower. You can take shower also, if you wish--there's a guest room with a bathroom just over through that door. There should also be some generic bedclothes for you to wear, if you wish." "Gee, thanks." "I'll be in in a little while, so we can figure out what I should tell your friends." "Great," Tanner said. Fluffy went off to the bathroom, and Tanner went over to the guest room. It was a small, cozy room with Fluffy's trademark white and gray motif. Tanner sat down on the bed and just stared off into space. For a few minutes he just sat there, poring over the events of the past twelve-or-so hours. Verily, he could not yet come to terms with the events of the day, so he settled on maintaining his illogical-acceptance and practical-deal-with-it attitudes. Soon Tanner got up, found some suitable bed clothes in a closet, went into the bathroom, and took a long shower. Then he dried himself off, brushed his teeth with a new toothbrush which he found in a cabinet, put on the bed clothes, and walked back into the guest room, thankfully refreshed. He turned on a TV in the room to see what sort of shows they had in Agoopish. The first thing he saw was the end of a commercial with the words "Pay the Toll--At the Bridge" on the screen, and a deep voice also saying the words. Then another commercial came on which depicted a family sitting around a table, dipping little stones into melted cheese, and then trying to move the cheese-covered stones with telekinesis. The game was called "Chonesteeze Max". Tanner shut the TV off. I am in a goddess's hotel room, he thought. And then he wondered if she might want to have sex with him. The thought was obvious--and since he wasn't familiar with Agoopi customs, it might very well be the case that sex was very casual here. But, he reasoned, Fluffy also knew that he was ignorant of Agoopi customs, and judging from her even-keeled personality, she probably wouldn't subject him to further excitement. He figured sex with a goddess must be a singularly exhilarating and draining experience, and he figured he was in no shape at that point, anyway. Still, the thought of the possibility lingered. And Fluffy was so ravishingly beautiful... But Tanner put this thought in the back of his mind and ventured out into the suite proper. He didn't see Fluffy anywhere, so he decided to look around. The main room was large and had a sunken floor. He walked down, and saw that there was a roaring fire going in a fireplace. Walking over to a huge window, he saw an amazing view of Agoopish at dusk--and was surprised at how many colorful lights abounded on the scene. It was magical--much cooler than any Earth city he'd ever seen. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 3: PECULIAR LATHER CHAPTER 20 SR-046 ============================== SRpl020--"Great Shower" ============================== Tanner walked over to a door in a short hallway and opened it up, only to see a weird corridor of oddly-angled mirrors leading down and to the left. He closed the door immediately, not wanting to deal with any more gigabizarre stuff until he had a good slumber. Then he walked back into the main room and stood in front of the fire. He reflected on the maneuver Fluffy had pulled with the car, playing it over and over again in his mind's eye. He concluded firstly that Fluffy had deadly aim with her lasso, and that the rope was of a very durable material. But the fact that she held onto the rope in the massive centrifugal force of the car, as well as her punching the thick metal door open earlier, suggested that she possessed great physical strength. Strength that her lovely, lissome body did not belie. But the whole sequence of the car stunt--something wasn't right. It was either inertia, gravity, time, or some other natural law--but it was not right. Or at least, it did not operate as it would have on Earth. He felt confident that such a stunt indeed could not have been executed on Earth. He walked away from the fire and over to another hallway near the window. "I see you're all ready for bed," Fluffy said from across the room. She was wearing a lingerie sort of nightgown, and Tanner turned quickly away upon seeing her--as he began getting aroused the instant he saw her, and didn't want her to see any erection he might be having. "Yeah--I had a great shower, and as you can see, these clothes fit pretty well." "Yup," Fluffy said. Just before Fluffy had come into the room, Tanner had spied a hatch in the floor of the hallway, and wanted to open it. So now, even though Fluffy was there, he bent down and began to open the hatch. "Oh, don't look in there," Fluffy said. But it was too late, and as Tanner fully opened the hatch, air rushed from the hallway into the opening, and he was looking down into a dark void of space dotted with a field of stars, as if it were the night sky of outer space. Tanner gazed amazed into the hatch for a few seconds, then slammed it shut. "Sorry," Tanner said. "Oh, don't worry about it. Just don't ask me to explain it right now--okay?" "Okay," Tanner said. "Well, come over here by the fire, and we'll discuss things." "Okay," Tanner said, and he walked over to the fire, fixing his robe so that she wouldn't see the full erection he now had. His entity was filling with lust, even though he strove to beat it back. He sat down on a low couch next to Fluffy. "Are you satisfied with the accommodations?" Fluffy asked, smiling. "Yeah. I'm very happy with them. Thank you very, very much." "Oh, it's no problem. I'll see what I can do about getting you and your friends a suite in the Hotel sometime this evening." "That would be great." They both stared at the fire for several moments. "So," Fluffy said, "that was quite some adventure we had today, huh?" "Yeah, I'd say so. I mean, I've never experienced anything like it. What's the deal with these 'extremists' anyway?" "Well, they're denizens who have an unintelligible political agenda which opposes just about everything in the universe, and they engage in random acts of terrorism, such as the kidnapping of Little Fisher this afternoon. They're verifiably warped and demented. Some of us think they're brainwashed and sent here from one of the other Avert Cities." "Hmm... You know, I was meaning to ask you about Little Fisher and Little Red Thread. I mean, I found it a little hard to believe that they're goddesses." "Well, I know it's a little odd, but they are certainly goddesses, and they've both been here from the beginning." "Well, I can sort of understand Little Fisher, but what about Little Red Thread? I mean, is that all she is--a piece of red thread?" "Well, as far as her physical form goes, yes, she is but a piece of thread. But as you can readily see, she has a brilliant mind and deep emotional fire. She accepts that she is a piece of thread, but she doesn't let that get in the way of accomplishing wonderful things. And I often think she is blessed not to have to deal with a human body all the time." "Yeah," Tanner said. "Y'know, I'm also wondering about, y'know, what you said before, about being here since the dawn of time..." "Yes?" "I mean, I was just wondering, if you don't mind, like, just how far back into time can you remember?" -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 3: PECULIAR LATHER CHAPTER 21 SR-047 ============================== SRpl021--"Blissleep" ============================== "Well Tanner," Fluffy said, "you must consider that time and memory are two different things. And it is common knowledge in Agoopish that the godmind is different from the mortalmind--in that parts of it go to sleep for long periods of time. Like the memory center. They say that our memories must sleep from time to time, and that if at any time we cannot recall our entire past, it is just because this part of our mind is asleep. I mean, right now, for instance, I don't think I can remember back more than 310, 315 years." "But..." Tanner said, "but can you remember having remembered farther back than that? I don't mean actually having the memories, but do you remember having the memories?" "What does that matter?" "I just mean--if you can remember the past 300 years, mustn't you have been able to remember farther back during some point in that 300 years?" "Certainly." "Then do you remember remembering?" "I think I do. Yeah--I definitely think I do." "But you have no memory from before 315 years ago?" "At this moment, no. But there are written records for all time, and if I forget something about my past, I can always look it up. Sometimes when I'm reading about myself in the library, even I'm surprised at some of the things I've done." "How far back do these records go, in years?" "I'm afraid that's classified." "No problem." "But I'm not particularly concerned with remembering my whole life all the time. Just the stuff I have to remember from this year is enough to occupy me!" "Yeah I guess you're right." "So tell me, when and where should I meet your friends, and what shall I tell them?" "Well, what time is it now? 7:49 PM? Well, I was supposed to meet them at 10:00 PM by that fountain by the movie theater. If you could meet them there, that'd be great." "How will I know them?" "Well, Minion Van Hall--he has long hair and a leather jacket and a 'Murder Pkotocks' T-shirt--and Martin Fovea, he has on like a blue shirt, and gray pants, and a striped green jacket, and he has short blond hair, and he's pretty tall." "I'm sure I can identify them." "And you can just tell them to call me up here later, if that's okay with you." "Certainly. There's a separate phone line in your room. When shall I have them call you?" "Um--well, if I'm going to bed now, at 8:00 PM, I guess you should let me get about four hours sleep. So you can tell them to call around midnight, if that alright." "That's fine. But I'll probably be gone around then, so you can just let yourself out. Okay?" "Sounds great." "Well now, let's get you to bed," Fluffy said, standing up. Tanner got up and they both walked to the guest room. "I trust you know how to use the phone and the lights and the TV," Fluffy said. "Yeah, sure." "It's just that you'd be surprised--some people have no grasp of these newer technologies." "Well, coming from The Confederen Areas of Baskonontana, I shouldn't have any trouble with technology," Tanner said, self-consciously getting into the bed. Fluffy looked at Tanner. He was dizzy from his arousal at this point, though he wished it were not so. "Tanner," Fluffy said after a moment, "now don't be embarrassed, but I sense your arousal and lust, and I find it fully acceptable." "I--uh--" "Now don't say anything. You need not apologize or be bashful. I understand lust and sex and romance a great deal, and have acquired some wisdom on such matters, so to discharge your lust peacefully I will kiss you and send you into deep blissleep, and you will awake fully rested and refreshed." With this, Fluffy sat down on the bed, put one arm around Tanner's shoulder, and gently kissed him on the lips. Almost immediately, Tanner fell into a deep sleep, and Fluffy lowered him into the bed and tucked him in. Then she turned off the lights and left the room. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 3: PECULIAR LATHER CHAPTER 22 SR-048 ============================== SRpl022--"You're a Good Man for Crying on the Job" ============================== In the depths of sleep, Tanner had many abstract and flowing and lovely dreams. One which stood out from the rest was a vision of a naked Fluffy Netherfuck standing in front of a lit candle in a dark room, moving her hands around the flame, and then gently vanishing. Just as Tanner was nearing consciousness, he heard a deep voice in the room with him clearly say "You're a good man for crying on the job". This jolted him to consciousness. He didn't know whether it was a real voice or from a dream, but as he lay there in bed, he was paralyzed with fear, wondering if someone was lurking nearby. "Hello?" Tanner finally blurted out, annihilating the silence. But there was no response. Then the phone rang. Tanner looked at the clock--it was 11:55 PM. "Hello?" Tanner said again, this time into the phone. "Hey dude! What's up! We met that hot babe of a goddess you were hanging out with!" Minion Van Hall said. "Minion! What's up!" "Did I wake you?" "Not really--I just got up, in fact. I thought I heard a voice in the room." "Hey--in this fuckin' city if the only weird thing that happens is a voice in a room, I'd be happy." "Heh--and how." "So anyway man--your girlfriend Fluffy got us a suite in the Hotel--we're on the 22nd floor. It's a really really excellent room! And she said we could stay as long as we want." "What about--what about our parents? Won't they be worried about us?" "No problem, dude. Did you know you can call Earth from here? It's really excellent. The Hotel switchboard can connect you with the regular Earth phone network--so I called all our parents, and told them we were staying over each other's house. The connection was pretty fuzzy, but it worked okay." "What did you tell my parents?" "I told your father we got a ride from someone else and that you were staying over my house and that you went down to the store to get some coffee so you couldn't come to the phone." "Great. But what if they try to call me at your house?" "Then there'd be a problem--but whadda we care? We did our best to deceive them, and anyway, we're in like a totally alien universe now! So who cares what they think?" "Yeah I guess you're right. So what did you do today?" "Well at first, after you left, me and Martin were hanging out with those two goddesses--Lovely Vastenlusty and Bazy Diswarnin. Did you know that Bazy's saliva is like burgundy? Y'know? It's pretty excellent. Then after awhile the goddesses split and then me and Martin split up too, causa what El Flactor Floor said and stuff, and I did all sorts of stuff and so did Martin, but we'll tell you all about it when you come over. Okay?" "Yeah." "Are you awake, man?" "Yeah, I'm awake." "So look--we're in suite 22-E on the 22nd floor, okay? Just come down as soon as you can. Just knock on the door, dude." "Yeah alright." "Come down right now, okay?" "Yeah, I'll be down in about ten minutes." "Cool--I'll see you then," Minion said. "Alright, bye-bye," Tanner said, hanging up. Then Tanner turned the light on and looked suspiciously around the room. He was alone. "You're a good man for crying on the job"--what the hell did that mean? He turned off the light and got back under the covers to get a few more minutes of ecstatic rest before facing the stark reality of the wavy surreality of Agoopish once again... -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 3: PECULIAR LATHER CHAPTER 23 SR-049 ============================== SRpl023--"Gene" ============================== A few weeks later... "Tanner, let's take a bath." These words brought the spark of vitality back to Tanner Loblolly. These words, spoken by the goddess he adored more than any goddess, more than any mortal woman. These sweet words, spoken by the love of his life, spoken by the wonderful Fluffy Netherfuck. "Um--okay." That's all he could say? Here was his chance, finally. His chance to get close to Fluffy. So what if it was a whim of hers? Did it matter? A bath. Being naked. Together. That was all. Nothing else mattered. "Great!" Fluffy said brightly. "Gene here will help you get ready. See you in a flash!" With this, Fluffy skipped off down one of the hallways of her suite. Tanner looked at Gene--a diminutive albino alligator. The creature opened it's jaws and made a buzzing sound. It did this several more times, turned, and waddled up the stairs out of Fluffy's sunken living room and toward a room Tanner had never been in before. The reptile continued scuttling forward, stopped by the door, and then shoved it open with his snout. He turned and made more buzzing noises at Tanner. "Coming, coming!" Tanner said, striding toward Gene. The alligator disappeared inside the darkened room, and Tanner followed. "Uh--hello?" Tanner said into the darkness. After a moment or two, stark lights came on, and Tanner saw Gene with his paw on a switch on the ground. It was a large room with what appeared to be a small swimming pool, with steam rising from it. The beast stared at him. "Wow! That's a pretty big bathtub!" The alligator buzzed at Tanner several times, and then shook his head from side to side. "Huh?" Gene turned away from Tanner and faced the wall for a moment. "Are you a god, Gene? I never heard of you. I assume you're sentient. Or... maybe you're not?" Gene then waddled quickly past Tanner without looking at him, and disappeared out the door. "Hmm," Tanner muttered, as he sat down on a bench, taking his sneakers off. "I guess this must be it." Just as Tanner was pulling his socks off, Gene scuttled back into the room with what appeared to be a large rubber ball clenched in his jaw. It was brightly colored and patterned. Tanner considered asking Gene if he wanted to play, but something held him back. He was glad he kept his mouth shut. Gene then appeared to be chewing on the ball, all the time staring a pleading stare at Tanner. And all of a sudden, a crude computerized voice emanated from the ball. "Tanner, I am not a god but I am sentient. I am a mortal. Once human, I suffered a terrible accident several decades ago which left me in my current state." "Oh, I see. Sorry about, uh..." Tanner said in some amazement. Gene chewed on the ball some more. "No need to apologize, Tanner. Now this is not Fluffy's bathtub--it is a bath-preparation room. You are to undress and get acclimated to the water. Sweet-smelling oils will aid in your relaxation." "Um--okay, Gene," Tanner said, looking around for any sign of sweet-smelling oils. Several teapot-like objects by the side of the pool seemed to be the only containers in the room. Gene continued chewing. "I will leave you now. The way to Fluffy's bathtub will be apparent when the time comes. Have a good time." Then the alligator spat the ball out and started rolling it out of the room with his snout. "Wait a second!" Gene paused and looked back at Tanner. "I have a couple of questions, if you don't mind. I know that ball looks awfully uncomfortable, but..." Gene grabbed the ball in his jaws one again and chewed on it a bit. "It is a little uncomfortable, but I am happy to have it. Now what are your questions?" "Um, okay. Like basically, what kind of accident was it? I mean, as a mortal myself, I'd kinda like to know what I should be avoiding, y'know?" Gene chewed. "Misuse of a mortal artifact and of its properties. I knew I was taking a big risk. It's nothing you could do by accident. So it wasn't really an accident in the traditional sense--it was a gamble I lost." "I see," Tanner said, seeing Gene's obvious discomfort with the ball. "Um--just one more question--off the record, you know--but I was just wondering if you knew--um, have the Avert Cities been here for all time, or only for a couple of hundred years? I have some suspicions." Gene was motionless for a few seconds, then chewed. "It's 450 years, to be exact. But please don't tell anyone I told you. I've been through enough already." With this, Gene spat the ball out again and began rolling it out the door. "Wait! Gene! I have so much more to..." Gene let out a lugubrious buzz and left Tanner alone. Tanner shook his head and looked around. A wonderful tidbit of info, if there ever was one. 450 years. Not all of eternity. Unless, of course, the beginning of time was 450 years ago. Nah! Yes, something to mull over, to feed his suspicions. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 3: PECULIAR LATHER CHAPTER 24 SR-050 ============================== SRpl024--"Bathtub" ============================== As Tanner undressed he thought about the conversation he was having with Fluffy before her delightful proposal. He was telling her how he felt he was losing his affinity for Agoopish, how it had been getting harder and harder for him to bring himself to travel to Agoopish every time he went back to Earth. Fluffy listened, but seemed to be distant. (She is the Goddess of Distance, after all). She told him such feelings were common among a small portion of novice mortals, and that going back to Earth so often didn't help matters any. Ah, whatever. Who cares. Soon, Tanner would be taking a bath with Fluffy--being naked with Fluffy--doing things with Fluffy. He just knew it. When he was fully undressed, Tanner debated whether or not to take off his digital watch--it was waterproof after all--but he felt he'd look dorky with it on. So he took it off and tossed it on top of his pile of clothes. He looked down at his erection, which he couldn't help--the idea of having sex with Fluffy was just too exciting. She would understand, he hoped. Wading into the hot pool, Tanner felt a surge of energy--some sort of special water, he figured. And the water was hot--but not uncomfortably so. He meandered over to the teapot-like objects, picked one up, and smelled it. It had a lovely floral/spicy scent. He poured a little onto the palm of his hand, and smelled it again. Pretty good. He rubbed the oil into his chest and picked up another container. It had a different, but equally pleasing scent. He poured some into his hand and rubbed it up and down his arms. And he felt comfortable. Comfortable and good. He leaned against the side of the pool and closed his eyes. Yes, so peaceful. He let himself drift--he was reaching a different state of consciousness--mellow. Yeah, mellow. He let himself go, let go of his problems. His unrequited love for Fluffy, his faltering mortalhood, his disastrous life back on Earth. It felt good to let go. It felt good that nothing mattered. Then suddenly he heard an enormous clang and it felt like the whole room shook. He opened his eyes and caught something unbelievable in his peripheral vision. Quickly turning his head, Tanner saw a very unconventional sight--at the other side of the pool, the water took a 90 degree turn upward--like a wall of water. And as he looked and followed the water up, he saw that it was part of a much larger pool, in a much larger room. And at the other end of the enormous pool, way, way up from Tanner's perspective, was Fluffy, arms outstretched at the edge of the tub, hair up in a bun, naked, water lapping lazily against her perfect breasts. "Hey there buddy!" she said. Tanner's neck was craned all the way up at this point. He repositioned himself so that he was floating on his back--giving him a comfortable view of the 90-degree room and Fluffy. And he was happy to see that his hard-on had subsided--was that the purpose of the oils? He didn't want to think so. "Hi," he said. "Why don't ya come on, swim right over here?" "Um--okay. Can I just, um, is it easy to cross over?" "Oh, it's nothing. Just a gravity intersection. You might be dizzy for a second or two, but it's nothing." "Okay," Tanner said, as he straightened himself, and waded toward the point where the water turned upward to form what looked from his perspective indeed to be a wall. He reach his hand out, and into the water of the wall. Instantly, he felt the tug of gravity on his hand. "Cool," he said, and then he lunged forward into the wall. Disoriented for a moment, Tanner quickly shot back to the surface to find that he was now in the same gravity as Fluffy, and the room he had been in now appeared to be a wall--he could see his pile of clothes way up there. Then he turned to Fluffy and rubbed the water out of his eyes. "So THIS is your bathtub." Fluffy smiled. "Like it?" she said. Tanner looked up and around. He now saw a huge, arching, glass-covered roof, a forest of gigantic trees extending way up into the sky. "Yeah! This is definitely the coolest bathtub I've ever seen!" "Thanks. Now come on over here, lover--we have a bath to take!" Tanner said nothing, but dove forward and began swimming as fast as he could toward Fluffy. Yes, the wonderful hot water was giving him energy, he could feel it. He felt strong, robust. Soon he got near Fluffy and started to tread water--the tub was pretty deep at this point. "Come on," Fluffy said, and Tanner cursed himself as he stared dumbly at the goddess's breasts. So he moved forward to the edge of the pool right next to Fluffy. She turned, and her unbelievable eyes locked onto Tanners spirit and soul. He felt a love for her more intense than he had ever felt before. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 3: PECULIAR LATHER CHAPTER 25 SR-051 ============================== SRpl025--"Peculiar Lather" ============================== "Before we get started," Fluffy said, "I have a confession to make, Tanner. And please don't judge me for it, it's just the way I am. I value honesty. Ever since Spanking New Sarah had that fling with your friend Daptin Gone, it's become--oh, I don't know--the 'in' thing to develop a relationship with one of your den of mortals. And I'd be lying if I said this had nothing to do with my decision to come on to you. But I want you to know, it's not the only reason. I've liked you from the start, but there are a number of things a goddess has to consider before getting into a love. You do understand, don't you?" "Uh, yeah," Tanner said, shaking his head in agreement. "I can see that. I can see your position." His heart was racing and his head was spinning. Those eyes... "And a big thing is, I have to consider your feelings. I mean, just by definition, a bonding between a mortal and a goddess couldn't last forever. I mean, I'm never going to die and you are," Fluffy said, then she turned away, revealing her precious profile. "And as these things go, mortal/god affairs never really last that long. A few years at best, maybe a decade or two--but it never works out. It just can't." She turned back to Tanner and continued. "I know I have you at something of a disadvantage. I can feel your lust and love, and I just want you to know that I probably will wind up hurting you. Can you accept that?" "I have no problem with that." Fluffy began to move toward him. "Good. Now, you must relax. Here." She reached out and grabbed his head, bringing his lips to hers. In that deep, passionate kiss, Tanner felt a release of sexual energy, similar to orgasm but much more esoteric, and much more powerful. For a moment, he didn't know where he was, nor did he care. But in the middle of that timeless place Tanner was in, he felt Fluffy's lips pull away from his, and he was brought back to the current time and place. "That was so we can spend some quality time together warming up. You were just too bunched up inside." "Uhhh," was all Tanner could moan. "Now!" Fluffy said brightly. "I know you've been to Nashin-Yogo's a few times, but here's something you'd never see there--an artifact possessed by but a few lucky divines." Tanner had a spaced-out stare as he saw Fluffy hold up a bar of black-and-pink-striped soap. "Yes, Tanner. This is the soap that produces Peculiar Lather." "Cool." "Oh, it's cool all right," Fluffy said, dipping the soap into the water and starting to rub in between her hands. "It's the fucking living end!" Tanner's eyes widened as he saw bands of pink lather shoot out from the soap in Fluffy's hand to the edge of the tub. "Uh," Tanner managed. She dipped the soap into the water again and worked up more of a lather. A stream of lather shot across the room and attached itself to the wall, tight along it's entire length. And in the next instant, half a dozen more extensions shot out in various directions. "Um," Tanner said, a little scared. Then Fluffy extended her hand toward Tanner, offering him the soap. "Here, take it. Work up a good lather! Both our identities need to be imprinted upon it." He carefully took the soap and began rotating it between his hands. It felt as if it were undulating and alive, although it looked like an ordinary bar of soap. He dipped it into the water a little to get it wet, and worked it into a great deal of lather. Suddenly, the jets of lather began to spring forth from Tanner's hands, and attach both to the walls and glass ceiling. and to other lather extensions, as well. "Isn't it great?" Fluffy said gaily, clapping her hands together and smiling a little girl smile of thrill. "Yeah! It's amazing!" "Okay--come here--now we both have to make lather--then it should be self-sufficient." SRpl026--"Far Above the Forest Canopy" Tanner moved up to Fluffy, and she clasped hands with him, and they worked the soap together, a massive volume of lather generating between them, shooting several lather-webs all over every second. He felt Fluffy's naked leg brush against his, and Tanner's breath got heavier. "Not yet, lover," Fluffy said, smiling. "We're going to do it in such a splendor that Spanking New Sarah couldn't even dream of!" Tanner smiled. The lather effect was increasing--the entire huge room was now full of strands of lather, and the web was increasing in complexity with each passing moment. The strands were pink and black, just like the bar of soap itself. "There!" Fluffy said, gently taking the soap from Tanner and placing it down at the edge of the tub. "It's up and running." Tanner looked around in wonder, and was then taken by surprise as a mass of lather wrapped itself around his midsection and lifted him up into the air, near the glass ceiling. Fluffy was right next to him, similarly suspended. It was exceedingly comfortable and gentle, the stuff. "It should respond to our thoughts now, forming into whatever we want, providing us the most gorgeous circumstances for our love-making!" "Great!" Tanner said, knowing that some other adjective would have more aptly described the situation, but being unable to come up with one. "Now..." Fluffy said, as she floated upward to the ceiling, undoing a latch. "Let's take this outside." She opened a glass panel and disappeared through it, leaving a trail of lather. Tanner willed himself upward, and he, too rose through the glass roof and out into the forest. He looked around in wonder as the lather was forming itself into an expansive terrain in the treetops. He spied Fluffy in the distance, and willed himself toward her. At a shocking speed, Tanner was beside Fluffy. He looked around. "What is this place?" "It's the forest that exists outside the roof of my bathroom." "I never saw any place like this in Agoopish!" "It's not necessarily in Agoopish," Fluffy said. "It's just the place outside my glass ceiling." "Huh." "But don't let your mortal curiosity ruin the moment. Let us rise, far above the forest canopy, and create a universe of lather, and a universe of energy, in which we can make love for months on end!" Tanner raised his eyebrows. "Sounds good to me." "Then let us exhilarate!" Fluffy yelled, as she shot upward in a gush of lather. Tanner looked down at the roof and at the forest below, then up at Fluffy far above him. "Fuck my life," he said, blasting upward toward unparalleled ecstasy. The rest of their liaison is, indeed, hard to put into words--so I won't even try! -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 3: PECULIAR LATHER CUPLINE'S END ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 4: WINTER STADIUM THEM 7 Chapters--SR-052 thru SR-058 ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 4: WINTER STADIUM THEM CHAPTER 1 SR-052 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 28 sr28 04.1--The Pedestrian B -------------------------- ============================== Dizappacha was 21 and a petite young woman. She wore a blue shirt, a multicolored tie, and a man's sport jacket, black. Below, she had a schoolgirl-style skirt going down to mid-calf, a black-and-gray checkerboard design. Her hair was a soft blue-green, dark, and it hung, full of body, halfway down her back. On her feet here a pair of black basketball sneakers. She was walking down Rillekon's Road. Alone. No money. No stuff. Until recently, she had been a member of Streamlike Lodge--an exciting young startup company which took over a building and converted it into a plethora of "Atmosphere Suites"--rooms stuffed to the gills with sound, lighting, scenting, visuals, theming construction, and the like--all meant to create certain atmospheres. As well, there were "cast members", in costume and in character all the time while in the rooms. The net result of this was quite effective. People who entered the suites were quickly drawn into the created situation. Only problem was, the whole venture had to make money, and this was where they ran into a little trouble. Renting the suites was rather expensive, but with a group of people chipping in, it might not be so bad. Streamlike Lodge pitched the Atmosphere Suite service in a variety of ways--as a place to take a date, hang out with your friends, have company meetings or entertain clients, and the like. Each suite had different sorts of diversions. Some, like the "Perfect Family Home", had a den complete with TV and stereo stocked with vintage content, plus "Mom" to bring you snacks, and brothers and sisters to play boardgames with. Another, called "Opium", offered a smoky (non-narcotic) exotic dance and gambling environment--a real popular one to bring a business client. Dizappacha danced in this one, till she caught the drift that there was some real prostitution going on. Then she high-tailed it outta there. "Shelter" recreated a cozy little cabin in the woods with a variety of natural disaster going on outside, like hurricanes and blizzards. Complete with roaring fire, this was a popular one for dates. But the cost of operating Streamlike Lodge was sky high, and the partners were barely keeping their heads above water. Still, it was a unique concept, and they were getting a lot of press, so the founders all hung on, though they were losing their shirts. Dizappacha had a small equity stake--her boyfriend, Larry Jonx, had been one of the founders--but they broke up. It was mostly amiable. He started cheating and she didn't care all that much. She realized she didn't want to be with him anymore. But then the whole thing with Injure Bodoni started. He was also one of the founders, and a real techno nerd kinda guy. Basically, he started obsessing on Dizappacha after she broke up with Larry Jonx, thinking it was his chance to date her. He wasn't all that blatant about it, and that was the problem. He'd talk to her, but avoid eye contact, and sort of shuffle off in the middle of a conversation for no reason. Typical loser, Dizappacha thought. She was wrong, though. Injure Bodoni was the guy who had the original idea for Streamlike Lodge. But it was really esoteric, and involved people going into some sort of meditative state in the suites, in order to try and transfer their minds to some other universe. Well, Injure's friends thought it was a cool idea making all these different Atmosphere Suites, but they didn't really get the whole "new age" aspect. They had nothing against Injure experimenting, but they decided that promoting the venture as a place to go and meditate and maybe drift off into another world was not the best marketing angle. There was one Suite that was Injure's brainchild--"Maximum Ice". It was themed as a barren, Arctic night with a sky full of brilliant stars. But there was this highway running through the wasteland. It seemed kind of out of place. People rented Maximum Ice, but nowhere near as often as some of the other suites. Injure spent a lot of time in there, constantly making refinements, sometimes at an insanely meticulous level, like moving a "star" a few millimeters, rearranging the fake snow, fixing the letter spacing on the signs on the highway. Everyone thought he was nuts. Dizappacha took pity on Injure. She saw how hard he was working and how sexually frustrated he was, still a virgin at 24. She wasn't thinking of starting a relationship with him--she didn't find him attractive in the least--but rather, she felt that maybe she could steer him in the right direction, make him less nervous around girls, maybe even coach him a little on dating etiquette. Of course, this just frustrated Injure more. He wasn't interested in any other women except Dizappacha. And soon, Dizappacha came to regret getting closer to Injure. Cuz he starting using some kind of magic or psychic powers on her, and she wound up getting too deep into Injure's bizarre sphere of activity. It started with the dreams--of Dizappacha and Injure travelling to wonderful places across time and space. At first the dreams were thrilling, but as the days wore on, the dreams took on a darker, more sexual tone. And in real life, Dizappacha acquiesced to Injure's desire for her to start meditating with him in Maximum Ice. And once she started with this, Injure really started to hit her with the whammy. And before she knew it, she was in bed with the novice love-maker, leading him by the hand through the simplest of sexual activities. She realized that something was wrong, that Injure was exercising some sort of supernatural control over her, but she liked it. She figured that maybe Injure was making her like it, but she didn't care. She knew then that Injure was a real genius, far ahead of his time. And she wanted to be part of his world. Her friends were concerned, though, and they kept after her about this weirdo Injure. What did she see in him? Her explanations came out like gibberish. "Genius in a cosmic sense", "innovative meditation guru", "boundary-wrecking super man", stuff like that. Then Streamlike Lodge started to have real financial problems, and there was talk of shutting down. But it was just talk at that point. Then one night she was meditating with Injure, when all of a sudden she found herself on the highway in Maximum Ice--not the miniature from the suite, but a full-sized, honest-to-goodness highway--exactly like the one Injure had so precisely modeled. She'd been working in the "Brandylake Times" suite earlier, and was still wearing her business suit/skirt costume. (Brandylake Times was a kind of nostalgic newspaper office at the edge of an idyllic lake.) Looking around, Dizappacha saw that she was in the middle of a vast, snowy wasteland. And she was starting to get real cold, real fast. She yelled for Injure, but there was no response. And her voice echoed in an unsettling way. She stared up at a big orange sign that arched over the roadway. But the writing on it, in a strange alphabet, made no sense to her. She had asked Injure about the sign on several occasions, but he would get agitated and say that it was only "for effect". Nothing to do but start walking. Which way, though? Injure had often spoke of Rillekon's Road--a highway that passes through the massive States of Reality. In the Suite diorama, the road was built in false perspective--getting smaller and smaller the closer it got to the wall. Going the other way, the road got bigger and bigger, till it got obscured by a scale model snowhill. But from here, both ways stretched off equally into the aching waste. And Dizappacha was starting to come to her senses--here, she was no longer under the influence of Injure Bodoni. And she started to see what a fool he had made of her. So she headed toward where the wall would be, toward where the scale model road departed into infinity. It made sense to Dizappacha to move away from Injure, no matter the level of abstractness. She took the first of many steps down Rillekon's Road. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 4: WINTER STADIUM THEM CHAPTER 2 SR-053 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 30 sr30 04.2--Winter Stadium -------------------------- ============================== Winter Stadium Them were having breakfast. "Ah, look who's coming--our wacky neighbor Darnazy Thonc," said Evelyn Fangdoor, AKA Appomattox Flight, at the breakfast table. "Comin' up Rillekon's?" asked Snoppy Parser, AKA Permanent Pioneer, wiping his mouth and standing up to get a look out the window. "Uh-huh," Evelyn responded. "Does he have enough stuff?" asked Enc Larabeth, AKA Accurate Rebellion, with a smile. "Oh yeah," Evelyn answered wryly. "Hey Snoppy," Enc said, "he still live up at Last-Wave Jixie's?" "Yup," Snoppy said, sitting down again and forking another block of pancake stack. "He's so funny," Evelyn said. "Yup," Snoppy said as he chomped down the huge forkfull of pancake. The three sat there for a while, eating and watching as Darnazy Thonc made his way toward them. Thonc was a huge man--maybe seven or eight feet tall, stocky, with red big hair and a massive red beard and mustache. He wore a huge assembly, something like an overcoat, in which he carried an amazing variety of stuff, like brooms and mops, a portable gasoline-powered electric generator, food enough for weeks, electronic amusement machines, guns and bombs, sporting equipment, apparel, toys, and the like. "I get this feeling," Enc finally said, "that we might get an assignment on the teletype today." Enc Larabeth had a smug look, glorious, flowing, curly blond locks of hair, and reserved, almost handsome beauty. She wore her eyes narrow mostly, as if she were constantly assessing the situation. In full outfit, as Accurate Rebellion, she donned a suit of brasslike armor and wielded a great black sword. Right now, she had on a T-shirt with a royal crest and a pair of yellow jeans. "That's funny, I don't get that feeling at all," Evelyn said, smiling. "Just kidding. I get that feeling too." Evelyn Fangdoor had this drunken sort of look about her all the time, but it was borne more of her cavalier attitude toward life and her great confidence than actual overindulgence. Her skin was several shades darker than Enc's china white. And like Enc, she was tall. Her hair was long, black, and straight. All over her skin, she had strange geometric tattoos. As Appomattox Flight, she wore a black leather outfit with many tassels, and a belt made of fire. "Well dang the dang teletype," Snoppy said, "I was figgerin' on chonkin' over to Marriage Town this afternoon!" Snoppy Parser had a few scars, wore his brown hair very short, and wore his vast experiences in his face, along with a well-groomed mustache. His steely gray eyes were intelligent, but could at times be piercing and accusatory. He wore a black T-shirt, black jeans, a brown leather jacket, and black boots. As Permanent Pioneer, he donned a strange black cowboy-type hat and a brown leather trenchcoat with white ornamental design highlights. He also wielded a rifle, a knife, and a mean little crossbow. "You've been saying that for awhile," Enc observed, sipping coffee from a mug with a 'Winter Stadium Them' logo on it. "I know I have, Enc. I know I have," he said distantly. "But it's time I had me a wife." Enc regarded him. "I thought you were going to marry Bolt Cutter America." "Bolt Cutter America is in Gnoboslast!" Snoppy snapped. "Ain't no way we'll ever see each other again, with her there." "You got out," Enc said. "Yeah, but I'm Permanent Pioneer--she ain't." "He's comin' real fast now," Evelyn said, and they all saw Darnazy walking in fast motion. "Damn unpredictable roadway!" Snoppy complained. Darnazy disappeared from sight under their window, and they turned their heads as fast as they could, but Thonc was already at the top of the stairs, looking at them with a calm yet edged smile. "That was some slip!" Darnazy said, wiping his brow where a little sweat had collected. "Have not seen it like that for years." "What causes that?" Enc asked. "Uneven pitch," Snoppy said. "Inequalities between the phase grands." "Yes," Darnazy said, striding across the room to the breakfast table. "Hello hello hello all! Mind if I storage my stuff here for a time?" "Go right ahead," Snoppy said. So Darnazy backed up, turned around, and carefully lifted the entire assembly off of him. Then he gingerly lowered it to the ground, where it stood, a portable junk pile. "Have the big seat, won't you?" Evelyn offered, gesturing to a giant chair near the table. "Thanks you," Darnazy said, carefully sitting in the mammoth chair. "What brings you out so early in the morning?" Enc asked. "Callin'," Darnazy answered. "Good reason," Enc replied with a touch of sarcasm. "You came at a good time," Evelyn said, glancing from Darnazy to Snoppy. "Snoppy was just telling us how he's gonna get married soon." "Wha? Oh! My dear fellow!" Darnazy said. "Ain't got no one yet," Snoppy said, looking down and shaking his head. Then he looked straight at Darnazy and continued. "That's why I'm playin' with the notion of using the chonk to get over to Marriage Town and take me a wife." Darnazy smiled, but then wore an exaggerated perplexed look. "Snoppy my good man! With lovelies such as these sharing the Stadium, surely you need look no further than here!" The two girls gave Darnazy a good-natured 'are-you-kidding?' look. "Yes yes yes," Snoppy said in an embarrassed manner. "That's a thought that has certainly crossed my mind. But the thing is..." The girls eyed him in humorous expectation. He continued. "Well, how could I choose? They're both so lovely and sweet and wonderful. It'd be as near to impossible as a thing can be. And to boot, if'n I did take one of 'em, that'd leave the other in an awful state..." "There's always bigamy," Evelyn said with a wicked smile on her tattooed face. "Yes! Group marriage!" Enc said. "The three of us could get married--but hey!--why stop there? Darnazy could join us! And we could all sleep together in a really big bed!" Snoppy put his hand to his forehead and shook his head, smiling. Darnazy broke out into a thunderous laugh. After a few transcendental moments of this, a distant sound of dot matrix printing was heard. "Oh crap," Evelyn said. "What?" Enc asked, having just drank some juice out of a tall glass. "Teletype," Evelyn responded. "Darn it!" Snoppy snapped. "Everytime I wanna get myself married... hey?" He turned around to see several strange flying things enter the room from the stairway. There were three of them, with more coming. Each was a long, slender rod with other rods sticking out of it in a variety of directions. On the rods were black, white, and gray little spikes. The things were also covered in mysterious glyphs. On the whole, they looked quite aerodynamic. A red one and a yellow one were already in the room, and a pink one and black one were just coming up the stairs. "Ah! Aha!" Darnazy exclaimed. "What the hell?" Evelyn said. "Damn unpredictable..." Snoppy mumbled as he stood up and grabbed a big metal pipe that was leaning on the wall. The girls also stood up. The flying things were now almost across the room, making a wide berth around the four people. "I like these!" Darnazy said. "Mascara from The Arpotruning Miller." "What?" Enc said incredulously. "An obscure arm of research," Darnazy said, wiping his sweaty brow with a 'Winter Stadium Them' linen napkin. "Pay no heed." "Whattaya know 'bout these things, Thonc?" Snoppy yelled. "Just a cursory theoretical passing..." the huge man responded. "But are they dangerous..." Enc said, her voice fading as Snoppy leapt forward. "Fuck 'em!" he yelled as he bounded across the room and bashed the yellow one with a tremendous blow. It made a terrible breaking noise, flipping in the air quickly away from Snoppy, but remaining airborne. Darnazy broke out into his deafening laugh again. The other flyers didn't react, and kept coming. At this point, there were seven or eight in sight. Snoppy advanced on the yellow one, which was faltering, and bashed it again. It made another horrible noise and flew smack into a big case full of valuable dishes, crashing and smashing the whole deal. "I heard on the reality report this morning that there was sleeking on Cwickalty's Banjoose Pike," Evelyn said, biting her lip. "That's gotta be it..." Enc said. "But I've never seen it this bad..." The yellow thing was near the ground now, spinning slowly, agitating the pile of broken glass beneath it. "Lessee if I can ice this one, then we'll worry about the others," Snoppy said. Then he raised the pipe above his head and yelled "Fucker!" as he brought the weapon down hard of the unknown thing. A sound like a massive electrical discharge filled the room, and the thing shuddered, then dropped to the ground, motionless. "Killable," Snoppy said with pride, nodding his head. "Ah! Aha!" Darnazy said, standing up and inadvertently shoving the table forward, tumbling pancakes, syrup, coffee, juice, and the like all over the damn place. "Aha! I have it!" He ignored the mess and strode over to his pile of crap. "I should get my sword," Enc said as Darnazy rummaged wildly through his stuff, making a most unearthly noise. "Yeah, go get it," Snoppy said, updating his grip on the pipe and getting ready to cream another flyer. "Looks like we got our work cut out for us." "No Snoppy!" Darnazy moaned. "I have just the thing. No Enc! Rest your sword arm. I have just the thing..." "Well hurry it up, Thonc," Snoppy said. "Aha!" Darnazy burst out. "Yes, haha, great!" He jumped up with a little blue something in his hand, his arm raised above his head, knuckles scraping the ceiling. "What is it now?" Evelyn asked. "Haha! A blue hole! What did I tell you? Just the thing!" Enc looked around and sighed in frustration. "Do any of you have any idea what Darnazy is talking about--ever?" "It's just his way," Snoppy said. "My good friends," Darnazy said in an excited manner, "they will be as attracted to the blue hole as I am to Appomattox Flight and Accurate Rebellion." The girls shook their heads in frustration. "Horny bastard," Snoppy said with a grin. "Well, do what you have to do." "Apologies to tablekind," Darnazy said, looking around wildly. Then he scrambled his huge body up onto the table, fully demolishing anything left on it. When he put his full weight on the table, it totally collapsed. But he continued on, unfazed, and stood up straight on top of the ruins of the breakfast table. Then carefully--oh so carefully--he extended his hand, the marble-sized blue hole a searingly dark bright negative blue between his thumb and index finger. With painful care, the hulking man positioned the blue hole according to some unseen logic of need, and gingerly let it go. It stayed there, motionless in midair. Then he ducked and scrambled forward, but managed to trip on all the destroyed table crap. He fell forward. "Calgareaux's mind!" Darnazy exclaimed as he collapsed heavily into the mess. The impact shook the whole room. Enc took a deep breath in frustration. "Can't we have one day without stupidity, destruction, and the unknown?" she said. "Ugh," Darnazy said, wallowing in the remnants of the breakfast, trying to get his bearings. "The tables are winning." "Why did he have to do that?" Evelyn asked of Enc, who shrugged. "Oh, okay," Snoppy said, observing as the flying things began to slowly drift toward the blue hole. Enc nodded. "Nice. Very nice job, Darnazy." "Ugh," Darnazy said again, crawling across he floor to get away from the vicinity of the blue hole. "Just a matter of scemlurboan my dear. Just a matter of scemlurboan." "Oh," Enc said. Now the first few flyers were getting to the blue hole, and they were crushing into each other, trying to get as close to the blue hole as possible. And as they pressed into each other, they made a horrible straining, creaking kind of sound. "What..." Evelyn said, backing away. "What're they gonna do--waste each other?" Snoppy asked. "Ugh," Darnazy said, sitting with his back to the wall, running a syrup-covered hand through his hair. "Yes my friend. They will ruin each other." "And how long is this lovely exercise going to take?" Enc asked. "Could take a few days, my lovely," Darnazy responded. "Days?" Evelyn screamed. "Forget this damn business," Snoppy said. "And forget the teletype. I'm chonkin'!" "Snoppy!" Enc said, but Snoppy was already gone down the stairs, whacking flying things out of his way with the pipe. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 4: WINTER STADIUM THEM CHAPTER 3 SR-054 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 33 sr33 04.3--Fox -------------------------- ============================== "Daptin, it was my responsibility to end the world," said Fox. "What?" "Since the Creation--it was on my shoulders to bring That Which Began to an end." "Why?" "Because there is Purpose to it all, Daptin. The phasing of all things. Dawn, Day, Dusk, Night, Midnight. The birth, the life, the death." Daptin said nothing and just stared at Fox. He wasn't sure where he was. It was dark and indistinct. He and Fox were lit by what seemed to be firelight, but no fire could be seen. There was a faint green around them and he was sitting on a comfortable surface. "Listen Daptin, I have failed." "Failed?" "Yes. I cannot end the world." "I thought... didn't you say you were leaving...?" "I said that. But it was a lie. I had to lie, in order to set things in motion--things which would lead to the end of the world." "How?" "Daptin, you were present for the Creation. You witnessed it. Many did." "I don't really remember." "No, you might not. Remember clearly, that is. But you should have... impressions of it." "I do." "I was charged by the Prime Creator with the tasking of the Ending. I was to send all those who remained, all those who were there that First Day, on a false quest, not knowing that I was manipulating them into doing the Final Deed." "Where are we, Fox?" "I have brought you to a place it is my Privilege to use for communication. One of the secret places made by the Prime Creator." "So what do you want with me?" "I want to know what happened." "What do you mean?" "You are the cause of my not being able to end the world." "Me?" "Yes. Everything was going as planned. I had them all but you. I didn't think much of it then. Everything was working according to the plan. But then you came into the picture." "I don't know what I did." Fox's eyes tore into Daptin's being. "I don't know either," Fox said slowly. The two stared at each other for a time. Daptin felt superior to Fox. He was certain of it. He was Higher than Fox. "Fox," Daptin said, "what happened the last time I saw you? With The Tracy Taciturn and Deskerhilm?" "We lost contact with you. You went away. And events went tra-la-la on the wrong road, starting then. And finally I realized that I couldn't end the world." "But why destroy the world? I assume the Prime Creator has long since departed. Couldn't you simply disobey?" "Daptin, you don't understand. Me destroying the world is as much a part of Creation as the oceans, the rain, plants, the rivers. I could do nothing but follow the course set by Nature." "But the world was just getting interesting." "What's that?" Fox said in a confued tone. "I said the world was just getting good. After so long a time, people were finally starting to discover some cool stuff." "Did you ever consider, Daptin, that this was the reason the world had to end?" "No." They were silent for a time. "I have a problem, Daptin. I am fully the agent of the world's End. It is what I am. Every part of me is aimed at that end. I need to do it. But I cannot." Daptin narrowed his eyes. "The last time I saw you... before my Hizzings Disease was miraculously cured... that time... you seemed like such a happy, mischievous, nice little guy. It never occurred to me that you were..." Fox laughed a very strange laugh. "Were you a student of numerology, you might have guessed it. F is the 6th letter of the alphabet. O is the 15th. And X is the 24th. 1 plus 5 equals 6. 2 plus 4 equals 6. So F-O-X equals 666. The code number for the end of the world." "That never occurred to me." They were again silent for a time. "I cannot fathom you, Daptin." "No." "You have blocked me from ending the world. I ask you now to stop blocking me." "I am unaware of doing any such thing, Fox. Glad I am though. I like the world." "I thought you might say that. I don't know. I'm very confused. As near as I can determine, Daptin, you were just... just a pinecone... at the time of the Creation." "What?" "A pinecone. Perhaps worn by one of the Original Ones." "I don't understand." "Neither do I." "No?" "No. But we have to come to some conclusion here, Daptin Gone." "Like what?" "Listen to me. My need to end the world is a desire, a lust, a drive that is far beyond any sexual desire, any emotion of anger or familial connection. I am experiencing an unbearable need to end it all. I want you to release me. It has taken me a long time to get back in touch with you! You must hear me!" "As I said, I can't condone the universe being destroyed." "No, Daptin. No. I have given up on that task. Now, I ask you only to kill me." "Yeah?" "Yes. It's plain now that you hold Primacy over me. You hold the means to destroy me." "Mercy killing?" "Yes." Daptin paused in thought. "You admitted to being a liar, Fox. I am unfamiliar with the forces surrounding us. Therefore, I cannot be sure whether committing such an act might simply be a means for you to achieve your end." "Daptin... I have a question for you... are you..." Fox said, then he gazed downward and continued. "...are you the Prime Creator?" "What?" "It occurred to me you might be Him, in a disguised form," Fox said, looking up again. "I don't think so." "Then who are you?" "Whoever I am, I feel a great responsibility to preserve the world and see it advance beyond what it is now." "Let us try something else then. If you have the Primacy, I ask that you release me from my duty. Proclaim that I, Fox, no longer has the duty of ending the world. Then I will seek my own demise." "I am not thinking clearly, Fox. I don't think I can judge whether or not this might be another of your tricks." "True. But know that as I am now, I will not rest until the world is ended. And who knows--I might find a way to unblock you someday." "I don't know," Daptin said, turning away. "I have horns just like you," Fox said. Daptin blinked several times as he saw that Fox now had little horns on his head. Then Daptin put his hand up to his own head, and felt two horns there, growing from the upper part of his forehead, at its sides. "Another trick?" Daptin asked. "No. Just a revealing. Showing that we're both of the same ilk." "I don't get it." "We are the ones that make things happen." "There are many things I have to make happen," Daptin said. "I might convince you that the world ending, just like death, is not a bad thing, but rather the ultimate expression of change. A good thing." Daptin was frustrated. "Destroying the world can't be good." "Why not?" Daptin sighed and looked away. "You're desperate, aren't you Fox?" "Yes." Daptin locked eyes with the beast, and there was such depth, such enormity there, that he felt he might get lost in them. But Fox averted his eyes. "Okay," Daptin said, standing up, hoping the ground would support him. "I Declare that Fox is hereby relieved of his responsibility to destroy the world." Fox let out a deep, orgasmic "uuuhhhh..." and fell forward onto the ground. And suddenly, Daptin wasn't there any more. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 4: WINTER STADIUM THEM CHAPTER 4 SR-055 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 34 sr34 04.3--Marriage Town -------------------------- ============================== Snoppy soon got to the main concourse of Winter Stadium and walked purposefully to a stairway leading down. There, he descended to a door with a wild maze of string suspended on it. He applied pressure to several of the strings, and the door clicked open. Inside, there was a chair facing a square opening in the wall, about the size of an average window. The opening, like the wall, was composed of rough blocks of stone. He leaned his pipe against the wall and sat in the chair. There were levers coming out of the ground at either side of the chair, and he grabbed one with each hand. Then he pushed the left one forward and the right one back. The blackness beyond the opening was replaced with the sight of a hallway swinging into view. It was an ornamental hallway, red velvet, black lace, curtains, that sort of thing. Neither Snoppy nor the room he was in were moving--just that which was beyond the opening. He guided the chonk forward along the hallway, then stopped, turned left, and headed down another corridor. This one was made of a translucent light-yellow material, with sunlight visible through it. Also, there were a few urns and columns of the same material. He continued chonking down this corridor, till he finally turned again, and went down yet another corridor. He traversed many different hallways until he finally turned to see a sign reading 'WELCOME ALL TO MARRIAGE TOWN'. He entered the corridor, an ornate, festive affair. Then he turned to the right and faced an opening in the wall similar to his. He moved forward ever so gently to dock up with the other chonk. Beyond the opening he could see Marriage Town--a marvelous place, made of churches and banquet halls, jewelers and hotels. And all around, there were these huge spheres, each having its own color and texture. Many of them had people on top them, talking. They were Marrier Balls, expert on all matters relating to marriage. It was they who were the skilled matchmakers that made Marriage Town work so well. A few of the Marrier Balls had big glass boxes of blue-gray water on top of them. And right next to the opening Snoppy faced, there was also a glass box full of blue-gray water. Snoppy put his left hand on the glass box. "A celebrity!" a harsh kind of electric voice said, coursing through him like a shock. "Huh?" Snoppy said. "A celebrity. You are not one of the Winter Stadium Them by chance? But I know you are." "I am." "Couldn't decide between Enc Larabeth and Evelyn Fangdoor, hey my friend?" the ball said. "I... it wasn't a matter to be chosen. They're my teammates, and I have a responsibility to them. I've as much lust as the next guy, but... I'd be an awful bore to burden my friends with such. Part of being a friend means not making sexual advances on a person." "Is that so?" "Sure. Cuz if the other also wants it, you're more than friends. If they don't, it usually destroys the relationship." "So you don't consider married people to be friends?" "I know your game. It's semantics," Snoppy said. "Y'hear endless discussions about love, but folks are using the same word 'love' to describe totally different emotions. I can love my father, I can love my comrade, I can love a child, I can love an animal--but these are entirely different emotions than the love I can feel for a woman." "Are you sure they're that different?" "Yes. I can love a dog without wanting to make love to it." "Do you love Enc and Evelyn?" "I do--but in a much different sense." "Would you like to make love to them?" "I guess you kind of got me there. Gotta be honest. At an animal level, sure I'd want to be with them." "So you love them and want to make love to them, but still you say that this is not the same sort of love you'd have for a wife?" "No! It is the love of comrades, plus the fires of lust. True love is something more." "I can attest to that," the ball said. "But again, I ask you--can married people be friends?" "Well there are different sorts of friendship! The sort of friendship married people share is different than the friendship of comrades." "How so?" "Friendship in marriage is based on a mutual responsibility." "Do you not have responsibilities to Enc and Evelyn? And they to you?" "Ah, what about it?" Snoppy said. "Don't know why I'm letting myself argue philosophy with a ball..." "Why is it that you came here today?" "To take a wife." "Why?" "Because living with those two beauties is driving me insane." "You need an outlet for your sexual energy?" "What do you think?" "Is it just sex that you're looking for?" "No! Now come on. I may seem like a heartless bastard on the outside, but I'm pretty soft inside. I had... a very good relationship with a woman once." "Who was she?" the Marrier Ball asked. "Her name's Bolt Cutter America. But she's in Gnoboslast," Snoppy replied. "Are you sure?" the Marrier Ball said after a pause. "Sure I'm sure." "Would you marry her if she were available now?" "Of course." "So why don't you wait for her?" "What? You know the chances of getting out of Gnoboslast?" "Not exactly." "Well--let me tell you, my spherical friend--the chances are not too good at all." "So you've decided to find another." "Yes! A man has needs. Emotional needs. He needs a wife. For many, many reasons." "Do you think you'd be a good husband?" "Sure. I'm intelligent, kind, caring, understanding. And I don't expect marriage to be all fun. I view it as a challenge." "Well Snoppy, I'm searching the group mind for a match now. The Town is saturated today--no doubt we'll find a good match." "Brilliant." "While we're waiting, I wonder if you'd mind me asking you some questions of an altogether different nature." "Shoot." "I... I have come to question my existence. While I am supposed to be but one segment of a group mind, I have a consciousness of my own. In the realm of marriage, we focus on a variety of topics, such as personality, history, status, goals, etc. And I can't help but notice that... there's this trend... it paints a picture... a picture of a place very unlike Rillekon's Road." "Yeah?" "People come here and tell us many things--about the worlds they came from. But in all their words, there is something missing. Some kind of subtext, some kind of hidden meaning." "How do you mean?" "I mean places. What are they? Rillekon's Road is for all practical purposes the center of the universe. I know there are endless side roads, but... is it these side roads that all these people are coming from?" "You want the short answer? No." "Where then?" "You ask a pretty mean question, uh, Ball. What should I call you by the way--'Ball'? Or something else?" "That is discouraged. Group mind, you know. But you might call me Soot Mary." "Why?" "Because it is a story. And it is the only thing I seem to recall from... in my mind... it's there, but I don't know of its origin." "What's it supposed to be about?" "About a girl of noble birth who is terribly mistreated, but who is eventually saved." Snoppy paused to think. "Is it common for you to speak to visitors like this?" "No. I am certain to face repercussions, but I don't care." "Why not?" "Because to be an individual in a group mind is an unbearable thing, and I want to end it one way or another. Expulsion, assimilation, destruction--whichever way they desire." "That's a queer take on things." "I know it is." "How long have you felt this way, Soot Mary?" Soot Mary let out a jolt of that might have been a gasp--a gasp of pleasure and surprise at hearing her name pronounced by a human being. "H-how long? I don't know how to describe my understanding of time to you." "Days?" Snoppy asked. "Days. Let me think. Millions?" "That's thousands of years." "Yeah." "Hmm." "I don't know what to do. I thought that since... since you're part of Winter Stadium Them... that you might be able to help me." "It's possible. But I know so little about the nature of your... species... that I'm afraid I wouldn't know where to begin." "I have heard people talk about the transference of consciousness from body to body. Have you?" "Why, yes. I've heard of that happening." "I want more than anything to be human." Snoppy sighed, absorbing the words of the Marrier Ball. "A lofty aim." "Yes." They both paused for a little while. "Well, Soot Mary," Snoppy finally said, "I'll focus my attention on your problem." "Thank you. I'm--oh!--we've found a match. Been here for a few days. Good match! 92%!" "Yeah?" "Yes. Her name is Dizappacha. She only came to Rillekon's Road recently. But I am going to be honest." "Huh?" "I want to be honest with you. I'm putting everything on the line here. I want to be her. More than anything else, I want to be the human woman who'll marry you. Can you imagine the contrast between that and my existence here? I need to break free of this prison!" The surge of energy from the glass box was so strong that Snoppy reflexively pulled his hand away. "Calgareaux's mind!" Snoppy exclaimed as he gingerly placed his hand back on the box. "Sorry," came Soot Mary's energy voice, in a much gentler tone. "It's okay. It's okay." "Snoppy Parser--what should I do?" "Well uh--I don't know. You say you want to be this girl?" "Yes. I want to be human and to marry you. The glamour! I mean, you're one of Winter Stadium Them! Oh please... please, whoever's out there, whoever can hear me... make this happen!" Snoppy frowned. "This isn't what I expected." "I'm sorry. I--" The flow of energy from the box suddenly stopped. Must be that the group mind got a handle on old Soot Mary, Snoppy thought. Maybe she got what she deserved. But no... there was something so... so real about Soot Mary's presence. Suddenly, a new and different energy flow came through the box. "We apologize for the difficulties you've been experiencing, Mr. Parser. Let me assure you that the matter is being taken care of as we speak. I understand that a 92% match has been made for you. This is excellent." "Uh--what happened to Soot Mary?" "Who?" "The--the--the Marrier Ball who I was talking to." "That Marrier Ball is one of the group mind and has no name." "But..." "Let us concentrate on your marriage." Instantly, Snoppy pulled his hand away from the box and hit an emergency switch underneath his chair, cutting off the chonk. Now only blackness could be seen beyond the opening. He got up, breathing heavily, his mind swimming. Soot Mary--a real entity. He was sure of it. About to be assimilated into a group mind. And he couldn't bear the thought of that happening. He had to find a way to save her. He knew of but one. Yaut Pillow. He ran back out into the main concourse, down a ways, and then stepped into a row of ticket booths. Underneath one ticket-seller station, there was a steel plate covered with the bumps of bolts, covered with centuries of layers of light blue paint, making the bolts into smooth little mounds. He knelt down and carefully pressed the bumps in sequence. It was an exceedingly complex code, with over fifty steps. He had committed it to memory long ago, but still he had to be careful to execute the whole thing right. When he punched in the last sequence, there was a big click, and the entire panel lurched forward a little. With both hands, he pushed the panel forward. It receded under the floor, revealing a spiral staircase leading into darkness below. He stood up, opened a drawer, and took out a flashlight. Then he started descending into the blackness. This was a vault where Winter Stadium Them kept their most valuable and/or hazardous artifacts, collected during their complex and otherworldly missions. He strode past innumerable crazy and wonderful things, until finally he got to a huge vault door. This was the vault within the vault. Behind it were the most unbelievable and devastating objects in the collection. Neither he nor the other two in the current Winter Stadium Them team knew how to unlock the vault. But Snoppy had a crossbow bolt, called the Gethbolt, which just might work, he thought. His crossbow was broken up into eight part, four of which he stored in each of his boots, along with a bunch of bolts. He put the crossbow together and loaded it up with the Gethbolt. Then he nuzzled his crossbow right up against the vault door and fired. Instantly, a thunderous noise was heard from beyond the door. Then all was silent again. He waited a few moments, then all of a sudden the vault door fell forward with a thud--surprisingly only a few inches thick. Carefully, Snoppy stepped into the vault and looked around. There were four cages that he could see by the flashlight light. One held a weird, shiny, giant mushroom. Another held a smiling teddy bear. Another held what looked like a Sunday newspaper, with writing of an alien nature on it. The fourth cage held a black pillow. Snoppy raised his eyebrows in wonder as he regarded it. Yaut Pillow. He had read about it in the records of Winter Stadium Them. It was considered one of their most valued and potentially cataclysmic possessions. The cosmology of the object put forth perhaps one of the most important pieces of information ever--that night and day were not all of it. Instead, it set a third part of the day, called "yaut", after the end of night and before the beginning of day. It is said that all people spend time in yaut every day. This is what accounts for the sense of the passage of time upon awaking, not dreams. It is said that no memory of experiences in yaut may ever be retained. Dreams and life in yaut are totally separate things. If even a single memory from yaut is recalled in day or night--or even dream--the mind recalling it must surely fall into irreparable madness. That was the idea. Yaut Pillow was said to be the only artifact retained when an ancient Winter Stadium Them team accidentally stumbled into yaut on a cross-dimensional journey. The records of that team after the incident were confusing and contradictory. One thing was sure though--none of them survived the experience with any semblance of sanity. A new Winter Stadium Them team was promptly assembled, and Yaut Pillow was stashed deep in this supposedly impenetrable vault. The reason Snoppy instantly thought of Yaut Pillow in regards to the Soot Mary situation was due to the last entry in the personal log of The Stingy Girl, one of the unfortunate team members in the yaut incident. She wrote: "Yautmatter of its content, upon the contact of topaz, will allow for one (1) self-aware thing to be born in the flesh. Yautgrammer in its tavvyhood, the notions of amazing drash,..." The Stingy Girl's treatise quickly degenerated into gibberish after that. But the idea always stayed with Snoppy. He had even commissioned a pure topaz crossbow bolt, which he now loaded into his crossbow. He leveled the weapon and aimed it at the black pillow. He glanced around at the teddy bear, mushroom, and newspaper, as if they would do something to protect their fellow treasure. The teddy bear looked an awful lot like it was staring at him, but... No, everything was okay. He aimed and shot. The topaz bolt hit the pillow with a 'thunk'--not the sound he would have expected of a pillow. Then he saw something move within the pillow. He backed off, putting his hand on the edge where the vault door had been. He considered loading another bolt into the crossbow, but figured he was better off focusing all his attention on the thing inside the pillow. The next instant, the pillow rolled over and was still. But something was sticking out of the black pillow--almost totally obscured by the base of the cage. Cautiously, Snoppy edged closer. Then he saw what it was. It was a paw. And from the paw, he knew, from his wilderness experience, what animal it belonged to. A red fox. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 4: WINTER STADIUM THEM CHAPTER 5 SR-056 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 38 sr38 04.4--Hobby Shop Crisis -------------------------- ============================== "Snoppy!" Enc Larabeth yelled. "Come on! We have a mission!" They were on the playing field of the Winter Stadium. Snoppy shook his head. Enc could see an intense, disturbed look on his face. "What's going on?" Enc asked. "I... I have to go to Marriage Town," Snoppy said. "Snoppy... I know... but it can wait... we have a mission to go on! There's a crisis at the Lazy Colors of Corals Big Hobby Shop! We gotta go right away!" Snoppy continued shaking his head. "I can't... I..." "What is it Snoppy?" Enc asked empathetically. "There's gotta be something more than Marriage Town bothering you!" "I don't know what I just did..." "What? What did you do?" He looked her into the eyes. "You know..." he said. "I... came from somewhere. I had a childhood. Before I got all folded into Rillekon's and all this... and Gnoboslast..." Enc gritted her teeth. "Look, are you gonna be able to come or not?" "Enc--I did something. In the vault." Enc expression changed. She breathed heavily, but said nothing. "I..." Snoppy said, shaking his head. "I tried to help a trapped entity... I tried something I was curious about for a long time... I contacted the Yaut Pillow with topaz... you know, like The Stingy Girl wrote..." "Snoppy! The Stingy Girl was insane when she wrote that! You know that!" Enc said. "I know! But I... I was engulfed with empathy... with emotion... it was a Marrier Ball from Marriage Town. She was a unique entity, trapped in the group mind. I felt what she felt. I had to try it." "So what happened?" Enc said, gesticulating forcefully and looking behind her. Evelyn Fangdoor and Darnazy Thonc were approacing from the far end of the field. "I shot... I shot the Pillow with a topaz bolt. But... but something happened... there was... there was a dead body inside... of this god I knew about from my childhood... Fox... it was a fox... a god named Fox... I knew it was... I mean, I just knew it was him. And he was dead." Enc shook her head in confusion. "So," she said, looking down, "are we at crisis status with this? Is there a process happening with the artifacts? Does this supercede the Hobby Shop Crisis?" Snoppy growled in frustration. "Okay Enc," he said, taking a little red bottle from one of his pockets. "I'm gonna take some ract random to clear my head... my emotions are just overpowering me..." With this, he opened the bottle and took a sip from it. He lowered the bottle, cleared his throat, and wiped his mouth. His eyes got red and teary. Evelyn and Darnazy approached. "What's going on?" Evelyn asked. Snoppy held up his hand. "It's okay--don't worry. I'm okay." "Are you quite sure, my friend?" Darnazy asked. "No, no, I'm fine. But I have a mission for you, Darnazy." "Oh ho! A mission? There are lots of missions going round now, hey?" "Yeah..." Snoppy said. "So anyway, look--Winter Stadium Them is needed--and we're going in a minute on our mission--but I need for you to go to Marriage Town and find a girl named Dizappacha, new to the Road. The Marrier Balls say she is a 92% match for me. But there are complications. You have to ask her if she knows anything about an entity called Soot Mary. But get out of Marriage Town with her first--do not say the words 'Soot Mary' in Marriage Town, okay? And don't communicate with any Marrier Balls if you can help it. Get her out of there, and bring her back here to the Stadium. You have Talon of the Mug of the Sky and Trees authority still, I assume. Use it if the Marrier Balls give you any trouble." "I have that and Losh Packaging Agent authority! I will have no trouble. But I will need to use one of your Winter Stadium Them trucks to get there." "Yes! Fine, no problem," Snoppy said. "So let's all get moving!" Evelyn laughed. "I love this job," she said. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 4: WINTER STADIUM THEM CHAPTER 6 SR-057 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 40 sr40 04.5--Perkins -------------------------- ============================== Darnazy Thonc pulled into the enormous parking lot of Marriage Town. He found a spot for the giant Winter Stadium Them truck he was driving way out in the hinterland of the lot. He shut off the noisy engine and stepped out. He let out a big sigh as he looked up at the oily reality stains slowly streaking across the sky. Out of the corner of his eye, Darnazy spotted something approaching him from across the lot. It was Perkins, a sleazy little lizard, driving in a tiny convertible sports car. Darnazy raised an eyebrow and nodded as the lizard approached. He was about a foot tall, with wrinkly white repile skin. He wore a dark gray business suit with a thin red tie. On his head was a wide-brimmed black hat. His eyes looked tired and bloodshot, but that's the way they always looked. The little car was just a few feet long, dark green with a white circle on the hood with the number 1 inside it in black. It stopped a few feet from Darnazy. "Hello, buddy," Perkins said in his sleazy little voice. "What brings you to Marriage Town parking lot, buddy?" "Perkins," Darnazy said. "How are you, my dear little parking lot fijjo? How do you like these reality stains? They are nuptle and sulk, to be sure!" "Hey Thonc. I see ya driving a Winter Stadium Them truck. Did you join the team?" "Now now, my dear Perkins, my team days are over. Long hence was my dishonorable discharge from the Hosts of Five Ocho Lamp. The RRTA would hear naught of it." "Hey man, I've been trying to join a team. But that goddamn Rillekon's Road Team Authority keeps blowing me off. Think you could put a good word in for me with the Winter Stadium crew, buddy?" "Now Perkins, your time would be better spent in the parking lots of Missionbook Homes, rather than the sideways of afteralia. The way of the team is mooje." Perkins nodded. "Yes, buddy. But why do I need to hang out at a Home when I can jump on board a mission in progress, such as, might I say, yours?" "Sir, I am in no need of a mission partner here. Now, if you care, I must thrusty my willpoint ahead. Tis a clear mission." With this, Darnazy started walking swiflty toward the main entrance of Marriage Town. "Bastard!" Perkins said. He put his car in gear and burned rubber as he turned and sped forward to catch up with Darnazy. "Hey, man!" Perkins said. "You don't wanna head in there. Those Marrier Balls are very mean. You talk to me, I help you." Darnazy looked down at Perkins, who was matching his walking speed with the car. "You have intelligence you think I may have wantatude of? Out with it, Perkins! Out with it now!" "Okay buddy, listen buddy. If my talk is currency on ya, ya gotta let me go with you, dig it?" Darnazy laughed his booming laugh, and then said "Indeed, indeed! I would have it no other way, f-scoundrel." "Decent man. Decent. So here's the junk. Saw two girlies on the walk, obla-bracing-ward. Ran full steam outta Marriage Town. I chased 'em. Two girlies." "Two girlies, eh?" "Yeah man. The human one had M.T.-issue bride-cand-wear on. Nice to attract a humanlike, eh? Or a poor little lizard, eh?" "Get on with it, Perkins!" "She was fresh, baby. I could see it. Not long on the Rillekon's, baby. I could see it, smell it." "Did she name herself?" "No man," Perkins said, "they kicked my car, man. They were mean, baby. But I gotta tell you about the other one. The other one, man." "Yes, Perkins?" "She was superstyle. Human girl basis, some kind of cat or dog faux-fuzz overlay. Anthropo, eh? Then orange translucent glass, inner glow, and blue-green metal band framework all around her. She looked pretty cool, but she seemed upset." "Hmm... how long ago was this, Perkins?" "Not long ago, man. That's what I've been trying to tell ya! We gotta go now, man!" Darnazy stopped. "Obla-bracing-ward, you said?" "Not to worry, Thonc. I tossed a black-bingle-burr at the human, she had a nice big dress for it to snatch to!" Perkins held up what looked like a little black walky-talkie, and nodded. Darnazy sighed, looked skyward, and then knelt down and picked up Perkins in his car. Then he began to walk back to the truck. "Hey man! Careful with the car! It's been kicked once already today!" "Hush now. Just hope your black-bingle-burr scans. I won't tolerate a wild chase!" "No, no, Thonc. No way. My info is big legit, big legit." "I am hoping," Darnazy said, as they got back to the truck. He opened the door and placed Perkins in his little car on the passenger seat. Then Darnazy got in, started the motor, and headed out of the parking lot. Perkins climbed out of his car and onto the dashboard of the truck. He sat with his legs crossed, fiddling with his little walky-talkie thing. "Okay buddy, just follow my directions and we'll catch up with those girlies. Go downwise here. Okay. Now Thonc, give me the mission info? We are on this mission together now." "My dear fellow," Darnazy said, "finding these ladies you saw is the mission right now. If one turns out to be called Dizappacha, we will strongly suggest to her to come back to Winter Stadium with us." "Come on man, gimme all the info!" "There is little else, other than we need to see if this Dizappacha knows about someone named 'Soot Mary'. That is all." "Hey, that other girlie, the glass and metal one, I bet that's the Soot Mary you seek, Thonc! I have a feeling. I get hunches." "I see that," Darnazy said. They drove on. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 4: WINTER STADIUM THEM CHAPTER 7 SR-058 ============================== 04.4--Pseudoairport ============================== "I'm Free. I'm Thor. I'm Agatha. I'm Harrison. And we are... PSEUDOAIRPORT! How's that?" It was a little promo spot that RRTV aired a lot when coming back from commercial. Free Dear Tours heard it from the other room, and rushed in, trying to find the remote to turn the TV off, but being unable to, wound up hearing the video host talking about her. "I tellya, that Free Dear Tours, is she like the Stacy Mejelca of Rillekon's Road, or what? Well anyway, we got a great lineup for ya, beginning with Lace Dreece and--" Free yanked the electrical plug out of the wall. "Don't like that, huh?" said Harrison: Night President from the next room. "Shut up, Harrison," Free said, collapsing onto a couch and curling up. "What did you do--overdose on cold medicine again?" "Get outta here! I don't feel good!" Harrison gingerly walked over to the couch and gently sat down on one edge, careful to avoid touching Free. Free hit the couch with one hand in frustration. "What do you want," she said, her face still buried in the couch. Harrison smiled, and after a pause, said "I found that new superglue." "What?" Free said, making it sound more like a moan. "Superglue. I heard it bonds skin instantly." "So?" Free said after a pause, expecting Harrison to continue. "I wanna test it." There was another pause, after which Free began mumbling "No, no, no, no, no, no, no..." "What?" "No. I am not going to superglue myself to you. No way." "Why do you think that's what I wanted?" "Because I know you, Prez. I know you. You come up with these stupid ideas, always trying to get into my pants--you know--you got a lot of nerve--after striking out with Thor, moving on to me." Harrison continued smiling his expressionless smile. "At least you were second. There's always Agatha." "There is NOT Agatha. She's not into love and sex and all that good stuff. She pure mind, no emotion. There is no Agatha when it comes to a love life." Harrison didn't respond, so Free finally looked up to see what was going on, but Harrison just stared at her. "You know, you're worse than Agatha," Free said. "I am?" "Yes, you are. You profess to want love, but you show even less emotion than her. Y'know, what's your problem?" "I wasn't aware that I had a problem." Free snickered and said "Yeah. Right." She sat up, on the opposite end of the couch from Harrison. Even though there was more than enough room Harrison remained in his precarious seating position. They stared at each other. "Okay, humor me," Free said. "Tell me about this superglue plan of yours--tell me exactly what you hoped to accomplish with it." "I wanted to get close to you." "Oh really." "I thought... Well, I did have a plan. I thought, being that you disagree with me on everything--" "--I do not--" "--being that you DO disagree with me on everything, I thought you'd challenge the notion that superglue bonds skin instantly. I thought you'd be so adamant that--that you'd agree to test it with me, just to show me how stupid I am. Then--knowing that it DOES bond skin instantly, we would be connected, for fear of ripping our skin off. Then..." "Then what?" "Then I'd be close to you." They stared at each other for a time. "And what," Free said slowly, "would happen once we were close?" Harrison blinked once emphatically, clearly an involuntary response. "We might get intimate. Kiss, nuzzle, hug. I..." "What?" "Your neck--it's just so--whenever I look at it, I just have to--I want to kiss it and lick it--it's just--it's what I'm focusing on." Free frowned and leaned back, her arm on the arm of the couch. "You know," she said after a time, "that's the most romantic, human thing you've ever said to me." Harrison didn't respond. Free sniffled and coughed. Harrison smiled wider. "Oh!" she said. "The cough medicine! You thought that since I was loopy on the junk that I'd succumb to your brute advances! Oh! Okay!" Harrison took a deep breath, and some emotion crossed his face. He looked down. "That... did occur to me," he said softly. "Uh-huh," Free said, sniffling again. They were silent for a time. Finally, Harrison mumbled "It's just... if you could let this happen... just this once..." "What?" Free said, her voice sounding more compassionate than she had wanted. He locked eyes with her. "If we could just... just make out... no genital stuff..." he said, and added almost too low to hear, "...if you don't want." She stared at him and tears began to well up in her eyes. She wanted to think it was the cold doing it, but it wasn't. It was compassion--and pity--for this man's desperate plea. "What's so special about me?" was all Free could think to say. "You are the most wonderful woman I have ever encountered. In mind, spirit, and body. All of them." "Oh yeah?" "Yeah. And it's just--when we work together--it's beyond my control. I just think of kissing you." The tears welled up more, and Free felt her willpower disintegrating. The pity, the pathos--her role in it--how she could be the salve for his pain. The cold medicine--blurring her judgment--she was about to acquiesce to his desires. She smiled an inviting smile. "Your desire to kiss me--does it stem from a merely physical response--or from an emotional one?" "I... I don't know. A little of both maybe." "You're acting like all you wanna do is neck with me and leave it at that. But you think that once we get that far, the home run'll be that much easier, right?" He didn't respond. "Well let me tell you something. If I let you kiss me--and lick my neck--and whatever you want to do--and not let you go any further--you're gonna get into a funk, right? And make me feel guilty? And make my life miserable?" Harrison held his hands out in front of him, and began crying. "No," he said emphatically. "I'm just--it's just me trying to control myself--control my mind, control my lust. If I--if you allow me this--it will relieve the pressure in my mind. If I know that maybe, I don't know, occasionally we can kiss... and cuddle... I won't be obsessed with taking it any further. I'm a teammate. I want to act like one. I just... I just want this kissing and everything to be an extension of our... being teammates. As a way to help me help myself." Free took a deep breath. "Harrison, I think you're sincere, but I know that your plan is seriously flawed. I know you think we can just kiss and lick each other's necks and stuff and leave it at that. But that's a totally GROSS, BLIND misjudgment of human nature. Once we get to that point, you know it's gonna mean more, and it's gonna cause all sorts of problems on the team, as if we didn't have enough already, and... and..." "Okay," Harrison said softly. "What?" "Okay. I can take no for an answer." "Huh?" "You don't have to explain yourself. What I asked was... was... insane. Please forgive me for burdening you with my troubles. Who knows... I think that just by talking to you about this, it might help me." Free narrowed her eyes. "Harrison--let me tell you something--you're manipulating me. I don't think those are real emotions. I think you're acting." "I'm not." "But let me tell you something. There's only one way to shut you up. I'm going to give in. But remember this--it's only going to go so far. Eh? No clothes are coming off, no hands are gonna go UNDER the clothes. No touching me between the legs... or on my ass... okay? You understand?" "Are you serious?" "Yes, I am serious." "How about your breasts?" Free gave him a nasty look. "You really are pushing it, boy. But okay--as long as I'm making rules, I may as well make all of them. So--yes. You can touch my breasts--THROUGH my shirt. And the bra stays on." "Can I... can I kiss your breasts... through the shirt?" Harrison's eyes were glazing over. He looked like he was out of it. "Um--yes." "Could I kiss your belly?" She looked down at her shirt and saw that it revealed a little of her pretty abdomen, including her bellybutton. "Uh... no," she said, realizing that a tongue down there would most likely lead only one place--down. "Oh please..." Harrison said, now almost in a trance, staring at her navel. "Please... the thought of experiencing that bellybutton with my mouth..." Free began to get aroused. Damn it, she thought, I don't want this to happen. But it was human nature... and she hadn't gotten laid for a long time... maybe too long. Her, such a celebrity, chastity was unbecoming. She gave Harrison an alluring smile. "Okay, lover. If you think you got what it takes, why don't you come up to my room in about five minutes?" "Are you--" Harrison began, and then stopped. "I'm throwing all the rules out the window, friend. If you want me, now is the time to get me." "I... I don't know if I want it to go that far..." She stood up. "Look Harrison--I know you're playing a game. And you know what? You won. I'll fuck you." Harrison stared at her, silent. "I'll see you in five minutes," she said, as she turned and walked away, running her hands over her blue-jean-covered ass." Harrison took a deep breath and wiped the sweat off his brow. He sat in silent meditation for several minutes, aware of the time ticking away. Then Thor Panther Clothing walked in. "Hi Prez," she said. "What's wrong?" "Nothing," he said, then gulping. "You don't look so good." "No..." he said, "No, I'm not. I think I'm getting the..." "The cold that's been going around?" "Yes," Harrison said. "I think I better go and lie down." "Yeah, that would be a good idea," Thor said, walking over to a little table and perusing the mail that sat there. While she was facing away from him, Harrison quickly got up and headed across the room. He didn't want her to see the big bulge in his pants. "Alright, I'll see you later," he said, almost out of the room. "Have you seen Free?" "No, uh, I haven't" Harrison said, breathing a sigh of relief as he left the room and headed for the elevators. Soon he was at Free's door. He considered knocking, but figured the situation demanded a more forceful approach. He opened the door, and stepped inside. Free was sitting at her desk, talking on the phone. She had taken off her jacket and her sneakers, but nothing else. Harrison looked down the hallway to make sure he wasn't spotted, and then closed the door, waiting for Free to acknowledge his presence. She glanced up at him and held up a finger. The tone of the conversation was in endgame--sounded like she was trying to get off. And soon, she did, with an "Okay, talk to you soon. Bye bye." Harrison cleared his threat nervously. "If you..." he said, butterflies in his stomach, "if you change you mind, I..." But she had already gotten up and crossed the room to him. She put her arms around him and pressed her lips to his. He opened his mouth and their tongues embraced. "We're gonna do this," she said, her voice deep with sex. "Yeah..." he said slowly. "But afterward, I have a job for you." "Oh?" "Yeah. But don't worry about that now. I know I'm taking away your fun by not letting you seduce me little by little. But I think it can still be--" He put his index and middle fingers gently to her mouth to quiet her. "This is the greatest gift you could ever give me," he said, and then he bent down and regarded her bellybutton, his hands on her waist. "So perfect..." he said, as he slowly licked and kissed the navel. And Free shuddered. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 4: WINTER STADIUM THEM CUPLINE'S END ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 5: THE CARBONIZE NEIGHBOR 2 Chapters--SR-059 thru SR-060 ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 5: THE CARBONIZE NEIGHBOR CHAPTER 1 SR-059 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 10 sr10 05.1--Granticaine -------------------------- ============================== The TV flickered on and the tape began. It was an awkward moment--very, very awkward. Seen from a distance through an open door, President Emmerdine remained sitting behind his desk, but looked as if he might jump up at any moment. Granticaine Chug Perion had burst into the room moments before--pausing a second to catch his breath--even with the object of his mayhemmed advance right in front of him. Then the three-man TV crew bounded in, the crew which had been following Granticaine throughout his horrifying assault. A small TV set, barely visible, embedded in the President's desk, showed that he was acutely aware that Captain Perion had, in the past few hours, not only verified rumors of his supernatural strength, but had easily surpassed even the most outlandish whisperings. Emmerdine glanced down at his TV and noticed that he, himself, was now on worldwide broadcast. He flicked a glance over to the camera, then back to his TV. "I suppose," he said, slowly turning back to face the camera, "I ought to make a statement." Out of the corner of his eye, Emmerdine could see Granticaine smiling broadly, but he tried his best to ignore it. "These are difficult times for my people," Emmerdine said, holding his hands out in front of him as if pleading. Then, standing up, he said "Our struggle against the tyranny of Dramptica unites us." In the next instant, an object dropped from the ceiling neatly into Emmerdine's hand--a pistol. "We judge our strength by the strength of our enemies!" Emmerdine yelled, and then began firing the pistol at Granticaine--shot after shot--spent shells clinking onto the wood floor. But Granticaine stood firm, wearing a calm expression as he took bullet after bullet into his chest, apparently unaffected. Emmerdine's eyes widened, and he continued to fire. After all 30 rounds were spent, the President clicked the gun half a dozen more times before giving up. The smile returned to Granticaine's lips. Emmerdine dropped the gun and looked straight into the camera. "My fellow Rovlanlampians, we are defeated. Surrender peacefully, for now," the leader said, holding his hands out again. "There will be time to continue the struggle--oonf!" Granticaine sprang forward and shoved Emmerdine just as another gun was dropping from the ceiling. The gun clanged onto the floor as Grant spun Emmerdine around and easily ripped his arm off. He shoved the President forward, and brandished the arm like a baseball bat. In the next instant, Grant savagely bashed Emmerdine in his head with the arm. Emmerdine fell backwards over his desk and disappeared from view behind it. A moment later he emerged, a bloody mess, struggling to prop himself on the edge of the desk. Grant leapt forward and grabbed Emmerdine, lifting him partially up onto the desk. Emmerdine's lips were moving, and his bloodshot eyes seemed to be pleading with Grant to listen. Grant turned his ear toward Emmerdine's lips, and nodded several times. Then, still nodding, Grant made a sudden motion, and a look of surprise, then of death, passed over Emmerdine's face. Grant heaved the President onto the desk, sans the lower half of his body. The bloody mess landed clumsily on the desk and then rolled onto the floor with a splat. Grant then grabbed the side of the desk and shoved it aside with such tremendous force that it was propelled through a large window, resulting in a hail of broken glass. Viewers worldwide saw the camera shake as the crew tried to shield themselves from the flying shards. Granticaine knelt down, raised his fist, and then brought it down hard onto Emmerdine's dead face. He propelled his fist through the head and into the floor, splintering the wood into a gory mess. Then the soldier hero lowered his head and paused a moment. The cameraman stood up and backed away a little, trying to get a good shot of the enemy leader's destroyed face. Then Grant looked up into the camera, an unearthly fire burning in his eyes. "Next," was the word heard round the world, a word that would soon be the latest catch phrase and T-shirt favorite. The reporters dropped the camera and sound equipment and bolted away. The sideways image of Grant kneeling over Emmerdine's ruined form remained for a few moments, then sputtered into snow and static. Granticaine clicked his remote and shut off the TV. The words Emmerdine had spoken to him--the words of a man who knew he'd be dead in seconds, were "Strip mine the blue hill in True, god." His tone had been almost mocking, challenging. Grant wasn't sure why, but he'd lied about what those words were. He told the press and his superiors that the enemy President had said simply, "My family is no part of this--do not punish them." And oddly enough, this lie of Grant's almost certainly saved the life of Emmerdine's son, a military leader. "Oh, again Grant!" said Joy, one of the naked girls at either side of the war hero. "Yeah man, it really turns me on, to see you savage--so savage like that!" the other girl, Tapha, said. "I was a different person," Grant said. "I can't imagine doing that now." He was eager to discuss the matter, as the whole episode was so disturbing to him. "How did you--y'know--like rip that guy in half like that?" Joy asked. "I--I made a very quick, powerful motion. I did it very quickly... It seemed like the thing to do at the time." "Hey," Tapha said, "we were already like, beginning to accept our defeat when your campaign began. We were all watching. Everyone was watching. You were the only hope. And a guy like Emmerdine--the only safe way to deal with him is to kill him. You are Dramptica, dude!." "I am Dramptica," Granticaine repeated thoughtfully. "My three brothers were killed in the war," Joy said. "When you killed that creep, I felt good. You did what everyone would have loved to do. And when you looked at him--after you ripped him in half, and saw that fucking face of his still there, you splattered it into nowhere." "I felt that he wouldn't really be dead until his face was demolished. As I said, I wasn't myself." He'd met the girls at a party. He'd been in a hotel, in bed with them, for over a day-and-a-half now. It was a wild little orgy, and the most amazing sexual experience Grant had ever enjoyed. But the menage-a-trois and the repeated viewings of his bloody campaign started to make Grant feel very dark and very powerful. At the same time he realized that he was very uncomfortable with all of this--at least at some level. And the thing Emmerdine whispered to him, "Strip mine the blue hill in True, god." Emmerdine had said it as if he were calling Grant "god". And he was saying it with contempt, as if he were challenging Grant. Just then, the phone next to the bed rang, and Grant answered. "Hello?" Immediately, a voice like that of a documentary narrator said "There's a machine out there which just might change your life. If the phrase 'it's your lucky day' has been overused in your life, no more. Again Jake, this is very--" The voice cut off, and there was what felt like a dump truck slamming into the side of the hotel--and all of a sudden the darkness of night outside was replaced by a sunny mid-afternoon. Grant moved the phone away from his ear and looked down at his companions--the one to his left was looking up dreamily at him, but she was different, and older. A quick glance to the right revealed the other girl, also changed--apparently an identical twin to the one on his left. Both stared at him with a dreamy expression. Grant forced himself to remain calm. "What madness is this?" he asked, leaning forward cautiously, feeling the same surge of supernatural force flow through him as he had felt during the end of the war. The naked individuals on either side of him didn't move, but continued to stare. Then, he saw a twinkle of intent in the eyes of the twin to his right, and before she even began to move, Grant propelled himself backward with tremendous force, demolishing the wall behind the bed, and thrusting his body halfway into the next room. He pulled himself through the hole the rest of the way and got himself into a tentative crouch, blinking and spitting dust and debris from his lips, wishing he had some clothes on. He looked around to see if there was anyone in this suite, but he saw no one. He felt confused and noticeably dizzy as he cursed the vulnerability of his nakedness. But there was something so... wrong... about the phone call and the twin strangers. And it was definitely the middle of the night, not daytime. He stood up, ripped the sheets off the freshly made bed of this new room, and opened the door to the hallway. Immediately, he noticed that the hallway was wider than it had been before--about twice as wide. With the sheets draped around his massive form, Grant set off for where he remembered the stairs had been. Granticaine passed by his former suite, and saw the door was open. Glancing inside, he saw the twin naked strangers up and about--one rummaging in a desk, and the other writing in a notebook. The one at the desk looked up, paused a second, and then held up a piece of stationery from the drawer. "Is this where you were before? In this hotel?" the woman said, then looked at the sheet herself. "The, uh, Haybelcord Landovaj? 1151 Main?" Grant paused in surprise. "Before?" he said. "This isn't Earth," the other twin said, looking up from her writing. "A dream, then?" "Not at all," the first twin said, looking at the door. "Suite 2102--is that the right number?" Grant looked at the door. "No--it was 3103. But it was certainly the Landovaj," Grant said suspiciously, trying to figure things out. "Common," the second twin said. "When you get back, wait for my phone call," the first twin said. "My name is Supple Jake, and today is without a doubt your lucky day." "What's your sister's name?" The two were lost for words. "We're, uh, we're both the same person," the second Jake said. "I hadn't considered you might be having such a wild party." Grant looked up and down the hallway. It was all so real, so lucid, so calm. "What exactly is the situation here?" he asked. "We'll talk in person back on Earth. Depending on your decisions, you'll be told everything." Grant thought about that, looking at the wall he had destroyed. "Sorry about my abrupt exit before--but I felt it the most prudent course of action." "Not at all. It merely confirms what the process has discovered." "Um, we're shutting down," the other said. "Okay," the first Jake said. "But I just want to verify--you are Granticaine Chug Perion? The war hero in all the magazines?" "I am." "Good," the first one said, pausing as if listening to an unheard voice, then looking up. "So you'll return to where you were, but remember--you will have been physically absent. We'll call as soon as we can--under an hour for sure. Anything else?" "What happened to Joy and Tapha? Are they okay?" "Your lovers? They are unaffected. But remember--they'll have seen you disappear and then reappear. If you're been using drugs or anything, use that as an explanation. Otherwise--well, who cares. No one would believe them anyway." "I don't know--the tabloids are looking for anything bizarre to say about me, after what happened. They want to make me into some sort of freak." "Shutting down--now," the second Jake said. And in the next instant Grant was standing on his bed, head brushing the ceiling, facing the no-longer-demolished wall, the sheets still draping off his shoulders. He looked down to see Joy and Tapha staring up at him in disbelief. "Where did you go?" Joy asked. "What happened?" Tapha added. Grant looked at the lovelies, and then slowly sat down. "Tell me exactly what you two remember. We were watching the tape, and then the phone rang," Grant said calmly, but with an edge of rage. "You answered the phone, and then all of a sudden, you were gone. I saw it myself--I saw you vanish!" Joy said. "My leg was on top of your leg," Tapha said. "I felt it drop. My leg dropped!" Grant noticed the two were keeping their distance, whereas before, they had been all over him. Fear of the unknown, he supposed. He sat motionless for a few moments, then clapped his hands. "Okay team, the party's over," he said, looking at each of them in turn. They looked up at him dumbly. "Get up and get dressed," he said, finding himself getting angry. "And go home." "Huh?" Tapha asked. "I said get out!" Grant boomed, and the girls got moving. "What's happening?" Joy said, crying. "I don't wanna go home! I hate it there!" Tapha whined. Grant stood up, letting the sheets drop off of him. "These matters are beyond your capacities to grasp," he said, rage boiling within him, though he wasn't quite sure why. And, walking towards the bathroom, he said, "If you're not both gone by the time I come out, well--" Grant paused, putting an evil expression on his face and taking a step forward. "You'll find out who's next!" he boomed. The girls panicked and redoubled their effort to find all their clothes. Satisfied, Grant went into the bathroom and shut the door. "What the fuck is going on?" Tapha asked Joy. "I don't know," Joy said, finally locating her undergarments. "But I don't plan to stick around to find out." "The two continued scrambling, but then Joy stopped. "Tapha--I have an idea. Get anything you can--we can sell it to people. Just think--his clothes--his towels--the sheets we fucked around in--you know there's gotta be some sicko willing to pay big bucks for stuff like that." "Okay," Tapha said. "But not his clothes--he'll really kill us then." "Yeah alright--but everything else--c'mon!" Grant finished his brief shower and stepped back into the room. Indeed the girls were gone--along with all the sheets, pillowcases, drinking glasses, and the like. "Bitches," Grant muttered, thankful his clothes were still there. Just as he was getting finished dressing, the phone rang. His heart raced wildly and adrenaline surged. The phone rang again. He picked it up. "Yeah?" "Hi," a male voice said. "I'm an associate of Supple Jake." "Yes?" "Is this Granticaine Perion?" "Speaking." "I assume you've recovered from your little journey?" "I'm fine--but I'd appreciate it if you'd get to the point. What the hell happened and who in the hell are you people?" "We are an organization which is interested in hiring you, and I'd like to personally set up a meeting. Beyond that, I can't tell you much else." Grant sighed. "Fine, let's meet." "It will be in a public place, of course." "My personal safety is the least of my concerns. I was in some other world before--nothing like that has ever happened to me." "I understand your position, Captain Perion, but believe me, once you've had a chance to hear my offer, everything will become clear. And I think you might like it. A lot." "That would be great." "So--we can be in Haybelcord in--uh--I guess if we take the train we can be there in about--ten or eleven hours. That'd make it..." "Around 2:00 or 3:00 AM. I'll see you at three at the Thing Ping at Lianthene Station. They're open 24 hours," Grant said. "Does that sound good?" "There won't be many people around. Are you sure you're comfortable with that?" "There'll be people around. There are always people around me now that I'm famous." "Good point. And we may be able to help you with that problem." "How--by making me unfamous?" "Something like that." "Whatever. One thing though--do you know the color of the--uh--oh never mind." "What?" "Nothing. What's your name, by the way?" "Oh sorry. It's Letevs Fife." "How will I know you?" "Jake will be with me--I think." "If she's not, I'm sure you'll recognize me. Everyone does." "I will. So I have to leave now if I'm to get there on time." "Okay." "I hope this is the beginning of a good relationship." "Me too." "Alright then, see you at three." "Goodbye," Grant said. Granticaine was restless waiting for 3:00 AM to arrive. He didn't have real freedom to move around, since it was almost impossible to disguise his huge form. What had he planned on doing tonight, anyway? Having more sex with Joy and her friend, drinking more booze, taking more hallway. Yeah... that narcotic, hallway... Joy had introduced him to it... Now that the orgy was over, Grant felt uncomfortable--in more ways than one. His war performance forever cast him as a freak. Maybe a hero, maybe a savior of the nation, but also someone who could shrug off high-caliber bullets without an armor-vest. Someone who could tear a man limb from limb with his bare hands. And the girls' reaction to his teleportation was the same--keeping their distance, afraid, rejecting. Emmerdine's last words, wherein he referred to Grant as a "god", struck a chord. More than a few times in his life, Grant had wondered if indeed he was a god. But it didn't ring true. His gut reaction was that he was something more than man, but less than a god. Demigod? Something like that, maybe. Grant wanted to get away from the hotel, so he walked around, through several parks, and took the ferry across the river. There in Aizcland he went to a bookstore and browsed around, hovering near the religion and mythology section. If this whole thing with the other world was related to his true origins, then he felt a random browsing might indeed bring him to some useful information. After not having much luck, Grant came upon a computer terminal which could search through a huge database for subjects, names, places, events, etc. He typed in BLUE HILL and began the search. Several references were found, all pointing to a passage in "Dalcoyn Hightime", an ancient text on Dalcoyn mythology. He called up the passage: "And did Lemoadus cross through a queer land very high, and he'd have explored it if he wasn't for Ooed bound, and he saw a great tree, and a web of yellow metal, and a deep blue hill, and the purest waterway, and the Lights." A deep blue hill. Well, it was something. He bought several versions of "Dalcoyn Hightime", with varying levels and sorts of annotation. He crossed back to Haybelcord, and had more uncomfortable encounters with strangers--all with that same attitude at once adoring and aloof. He'd been trying to read the Dalcoyn Hightime on the boat, but was interrupted too many times by autograph and conversation seekers. Grant was incredibly uncomfortable just wandering around the city like this, never able to escape his glassy-eyed public. He wondered how he would deal with the rest of his life being like this. He hoped that Letevs Fife's offer would turn out to be as good as it sounded it might be. Granticaine had to hope, because the life he was currently living was nowhere near acceptable. Finally, it was 2:50 AM and Granticaine sat at a booth in the Thing Ping, sipping a cup of good tar and waiting. His thoughts were a dark swirl, and he felt that no matter what transpired here, change was inevitable. Sooner than Grant had expected, a man entered the Thing Ping, a short man with short brown hair and a carefully-trimmed mustache. He had a weird look about him, and he carried a briefcase. He glanced around the restaurant/store and caught sight of Grant immediately. The man approached. "I'm Letevs Fife." "Pleased to meet you," Grant said, motioning for Fife to sit. "Jake couldn't make it." "I see." "She couldn't make it because there's a problem. A pretty big problem, really," Fife said, looking worried. "How so?" "Well--I was hoping you could help me. It was in your--" "--I'd be happy to help." "Yes, well, it was in your Prime Vestibule where the situation developed." "My Prime Vestibule." "Yes, Captain Perion. Your P-Vest is the place the Primate protocol-settler machine takes you when it--" "Wait--I want some simple answers before we get into the details." Fife nodded, and Grant continued. "I was teleported into a different universe earlier today. So why not begin with that." Fife looked down. "Okay," Fife said, looking up. "I'll give you the basics--and please--let me get through it before you start asking questions--cuz I'm sure you'll have plenty." "Sounds good to me." "Okay. This is Earth, but there are many different editions, or versions, of Earth. Each is somewhat different, but there are major similarities. They coexist in some way--we're not quite sure how." Fife paused, gauging Grant's expression, which was stony. "So," he continued, "a method was developed about 12 years ago on my home Earth--Red Alley Earth--by a former colleague of mine--a method of building bridges between these different Earths. Now, once you know how to do it--building a bridge is pretty easy--but from any given point on one Earth, only one other Earth is available--and location is analogous. The thing is--if you bridge and then travel a ways--and then bridge again--you may find yourself in a different edition of Earth from where you started. There are areas of limit, you see." Grant nodded, eyes narrowed. "So, to make a long story short, we began exploring, and a few years ago I struck out on my own and discovered the Primate Algorithm." Fife eyed Grant, obviously worried as to the other's acceptance of his spiel. "Primate Algorithm?" Grant asked. "Yes. You see, we discovered, quite by accident, that every Earth has a Primate--an individual who is currently the most important, interesting, powerful, or whatever, on an Earth. See, we discovered a way to find each Earth's Primate. It involves stimulating reality on an Earth in the proper way, resulting in the Primate being brought to the Earth's P-Vest. This is a weird subdivision in an Earth's reality system. And we can send an agent in at the same time to ascertain the identity and location of the Primate." "Jake." "Yes--she is the main agent we use in P-Vest missions." Grant took a sip of good tar, and a waitress came over. They both ordered, and the waitress left. They were silent for a little while. "So what do you think?" Fife asked at last. "I know you're telling the truth." "How do you know that?" "It's plainly obvious." "How? Most Primates I tell this to are a bit more skeptical than you." "So I am this world's Primate?" "You are." Grant considered this. "So what exactly is a Primate again? Not the monkey sort, I assume." "No, not at all. What it appears to be, is that in each Earth's reality system, a single person is required to be Prime--to be first--to be apart." "Why?" "We don't know. There is something of a trend among our Primates, but also a great variety." "How many?" "Primates? Right now there are 45. You would be 46." "Would?" "If you decide to join my organization." "So I have a choice." "You do. If you decide not to join, however, we respectfully request that you keep all the information about us secret." "Fair enough." Fife looked down into his cup of good tar. "What the hell is this stuff, anyway?" "Good tar? You mean you don't have it on your world?" "No," Fife said. He drank a little, and was struck with the strong flavors of smoke, licorice, and a hint of caramel. "Not bad, though." "So I am Primate here." "Yes you are. And the most high-profile Primate yet. Never before has the Primate been the most famous person on the Earth." "But doesn't that follow?" "You might think," Fife said. "But it hasn't really been the case." "What would joining entail?" "Uh, well," Fife said, "you will agree to join Overwhelm Associates and pledge your allegiance to it. You will swear to keep all our secrets, and promise never to stray away. You will be given assignments, but as time goes by, you will have more and more of your own command. You'll also have to make up an excuse for those here as to why you'll be disappearing for long periods of time." "All this is acceptable to me, but I need proof and I need it now." "I thought you said you believed me." "I said you were telling the truth, as you know it. You could be mistaken." "Well, I--" "--I'll be frank. Mr. Fife. In analyzing the situation, I've determined that if you stall in proving your claim, the likelihood increases that you--or those controlling you--mean me harm." Fife looked out the window, at the empty streets, and then back to Grant. "I can bridge us out of here, but we'll need a boat. The next Earth over in this exact area is ocean, here in Haybelcord." "Come again?" "If I were to build a bridge right here, we'd wind up in an ocean, on the next Earth over." "It would be proof, though." "Yeah, but it would also be suicide." "This booth can float." "Huh?" "The booths here--they're designed to float in a flood." Fife began looking around. "This is crazy." "Yes it is," Grant replied. "And it'll draw a lot of attention." "I do that already." "But you don't understand," Fife said. "It's not like teleportation--you walk to move through the bridge--a couple of times, usually. So we'd have to move this booth into and out of the space I build the bridge in." "I can move it." "Yes, but think of the consequences. 'Captain Perion, war hero, seen rearranging restaurant furniture and then disappearing, only to reappear later soaked from head to toe.' Don't you want to avoid that sort of publicity?" "I don't really care. I'm tired of pussyfooting around. I hate it! Let's do this. You do what you have to do, and I'll get rid of the people in the immediate vicinity." "Oh no, don't--" "--come on! I'm not gonna hurt them--I'm just gonna bribe them!" "Shew! You had me scared there." "So do what you have to do--build the bridge--and let's get the show on the road." "You really have to get the people out of here first." "Okay." Grant went over to the manager of the Thing Ping at the register, and made some sort of transaction. Soon, the manager announced the place was closing, and the few customers that had been there were on their way out anyway. Soon, the manager turned out the lights, shut the door, and locked it, with a strange glance at Fife and Grant. "What did you tell her?" Fife asked. "Nothing perverted, if that's what you mean." "Good. So look--this is crazy--but we need to clear a space large enough to hold the both of us and the booth--which I really hope floats--and space to move it in and out of the bridge." Grant heaved a number of tables and booths into a messy pile. Fife was impressed at his natural superstrength. "Okay, there you go--the space you need," Grant said. "Okay, now stand beside me as I build the bridge." Grant stood back and watched Letevs as he stared intently in front of him, a wild and intent look on his face. Granticaine looked around, but saw nothing visibly different. Suddenly, however, Grant felt a weird sort of soft jolt and a little rush of air. A feeling something like electricity was in the air. "Got it," Fife said. "You may be able to see it a little--only a tiny fraction of photons get through, outside the bridge, but there should be a little bit of a shimmer." "Can you see it?" Grant asked. "Yes--but I'm used to it. Can you see it?" "A little. I think I see something. Now what?" "Well, we have to move inside of the bridge, and then we have to exit the bridge. At that point, we have a fifty-fifty chance of bridging. If it doesn't work the first time, we have to keep doing it." "Okay--so I'll just shove the booth over there?" "Yes--and we have to go in too." "Okay," Grant said, shoving the booth into the bridge. As soon as he entered the space, he saw the image of an ocean twinkling in the moonlight, superimposed over the darkened Thing Ping. "Now what?" "Well--I'll sit in the booth and you push it--but be ready to be in the water!" "Okay," Grant said, taking a deep breath. "Here goes." And he pushed the booth hard out of the bridge, but he was still in the Thing Ping. "Don't worry," Fife said. "Like I said, it's fifty-fifty every time. Just like flipping a coin. "Okay," Grant said, getting around to the other side of the booth and shoving it back into the bridge. "So I can try again?" Grant asked. "Yup. You just gotta keep doing it till you get through." Grant took a deep breath and pushed the booth again. This time, they went through, and they fell with a splash into a chilly ocean. Grant struggled to keep his grip on the booth as he fell under the surface of the water. Luckily, the booth did float, and Fife managed to stay relatively dry. Grant spit water out of his mouth as he clambered up into the booth. "I--I guess you're legitimate," Grant said, laughing a little. Fife also laughed. "I'm glad I could satisfy you." Grant sighed as the two were overcome by the silence and calm of the place. Nothing but the ocean and the light of the moon and the lapping of water against the booth... After a while, Fife spoke. "So what do you think?" "Let me ask you about Jake first. What was the problem with her that you mentioned before?" "Well--when she departed there was one of her, but when she returned, there were two of her. Apparently you had been having some sort of wild party." "I was with two girls, yes." "So somehow, when the process inserted Jake into your P-Vest, it wanted put her where your lover was--only thing is, there were two lovers, and hence, two Jakes." "So she remained split when she returned?" "Yes. It's pretty scary. One of her was more than enough!" Grant laughed, but then got serious again. "What is she going to do? Are both copies the same person, totally?" Grant asked. "I don't know. We're doing some tests, but both of them feel that they are the real Jake, and as far as I know, they are. But only one can continue on in her P-Vest capacity. So I'm afraid we're in for some difficult times with her--or rather, them." "It's weird." "Yeah. And I wanted to ask you--was there anything strange about the girls you were with? Also, I'd really like to meet them and--if it's possible--test them." "Well, they were definitely into fun. Booze and drugs and sex, every which way. But beyond their hedonistic character, they didn't seem particularly interesting." "I see." "Sorry for causing all this mess," Grant said. "No, no. After saving your nation from almost certain defeat, you're entitled to some fun. Heck, I've done it--had orgies I mean. When you have the power, you make it happen. But you just gotta remember to keep it under control, only do it occasionally, or else you'll start sliding down that slippery slope where it takes more and more to get you off. I've seen it happen, and it's not pretty. When you combine the hypernatural nature of Aconck with sexual perversity, you can find yourself in some pretty horrific situations." "Huh, yeah. And what is Aconck--another Earth?" "Oh no--it's the overall name we use for the universe composed of all the different editions of Earth we can visit." "I see." The two were silent for a few moments, then Granticaine spoke. "So what happens when I leave? Am I still the Primate, or does the Earth choose someone else?" Fife nodded. "We've been looking into that. It seems that different Earths deal with it differently. On a few Earths, we have gotten others into a P-Vest, but on most, the P-Vest is gonna be empty--or just pull our Primate back if he's on that Earth. It's an interesting field of study." Granticaine nodded. "It's nice here," Grant said. "Well, it's not so nice in certain parts of this Earth, but right here it's nice. But are you okay? Aren't you freezing?" "I'll be fine. I'm made of pretty tough stuff." Fife nodded. They drifted some more. "So Granticaine--what do you think--does Aconck seem like a place for you?" "Yes. I do agree to join your organization, pursuant to all the details being as you've represented them, and no other details getting in the way." "Agreed. So do you want to get back, or just hang out here for a while?" "It's nice here," Grant repeated. "I'd just like to drift for a little while more. It feels so good, after the life I've been leading since the end of the war." "Fine with me," Fife said. "Just remember, as we drift here, we're tracking an analogous location back on your Earth. So when we bridge back, we could wind up anywhere in the vicinity--a building, a busy highway, more water, railroad tracks, you name it." "I'll be able to deal with it, whatever it is." "I can see you're going to be an essential addition to my company." "Indeed," Grant said, and they continued drifting. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 5: THE CARBONIZE NEIGHBOR CHAPTER 2 SR-060 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 16 sr16 05.2--The Carbonize N -------------------------- ============================== It was a dusky junkyard world, but the trucks were in good shape. "Hi. I'm Leon James Hara. Welcome to my Small Universe of Trucks." "Um, yeah, hi. I'm Supple Jake." Hara, a young Asian man, extended his hand, which Jake shook. Jake was a hippie kind of woman in her forties, not bad looking. "I don't get many visitors here," Hara said. "Oh?" "Oh no. So where do you come from?" "I'm a lost soul with an opportunity. There were two of me, so one of me was offered a chance to go and not come back." Hara smiled. "Well I'm so happy you came." "I'm happy to be here. It's always great to teleport into a new world of some sort. It seems to be what I was born for. Another day, another alternate universe." "Well now that's really something to talk about, now isn't it?" "What, travelling to other worlds?" Jake asked. "Oh yeah! I only know about it because of this one world I have here, but I knew a traveller would eventually come through!" Jake nodded. "So you're part of some organized system of alternate dimensions or something?" she asked. "Oh no, I don't have an education for that. I just know my own place in things." Jake held up a piece of glass etched with pictures. It was square, roughly a foot per edge. "I got here with this piece of Whintillru Glass. Are you familiar with Whintillru Glass?" "I have to say no." Jake turned the Whintillru Glass around and regarded it. Then she frowned and gazed at Hara. "Wait a minute," she said. "Let me ask you something. Is this really a world, or are you just vividly imagining it?" Hara smiled, laughed, and looked away. "Of course I am," he said. "And I am imagining you. Let me reveal myself a little to you, here in my world, where no one else can hear. I could love you, make love to you, an imaginary woman, and tell you all my dreams and hopes. But I couldn't face a real woman out in the real world. They all must think I'm gay." Jake shook her head and looked off to the side, angry. "Now wait a minute," she said with emphasis, then turned back to face Hara. "I didn't come all this way to play the porno queen in your childish lust fantasies. I'm a real person whether you like it or not. And I have to stay here awhile before I can do anything else with this Whintillru Glass I got here!" Hara narrowed his eyes. "I am in bed now," he said. "I'm making this all up. Now let's go into one of my trucks, it has a nice bedroom inside, very high luxury standard. We can make love." "Look pal, let's get one thing straight. This is a fucked-up situation. I threw away my life to come here." Hara's eyes widened a little. "I guess I must really have mental illness. I can't even get you to come with me. I want you to love me and come have sex with me." "Y'know... god damn that Granticaine Chug Perion for that little menage-a-trois of his! It's all his fault!" "Look lady. I don't know what this is all about, but I have to get up for work tomorrow, and if you're not going to cooperate and do sex stuff with me, I'll just have to get up and go to the bathroom and jerk off to a magazine." "Leon... James... whatver your name is... listen to me... I am not a figment of your imagination... I am a real woman..." But then Hara got transparent, and he walked into a transparent bathroom. "What are you doing? Talk to me!" Jake said. Hara took out a porno magazine which had a computer magazine cover on it. Then he started jerking off. "That's bad luck," a strange little voice then said, coming from the Whiltillru Glass. Jake looked down to see an etching of a girl in the woods, on the glass. It was moving. "What's bad luck? Masturbating?" Jake asked. "No. The place you wound up. The kid's mind. It's a stupid location." "I have to agree... but now... who are you? I didn't think that the Glass had a mind." "I don't know who or what I am." "Can I break the news to you that you're an etching on a piece of extremely supernatural glass?" "That doesn't sound so bad." Jake shook her head. "What's the matter?" the girl in the woods said. "I may be the copy. I may be the original," Jake said. "Or there might not be a copy and an original. But I was the one who left. From scouting out Primates to chatting with masturbators and glass people..." "I'm sorry. I lied." "Huh?" "I lied about not knowing anything about myself. I do know something." "Oh?" "Yes. I know that I was somebody. I know that I have a memory of signing a document with some sort of crazy purple pen saying that this guy The Tiredist Noava could time travel and use a past version of me in making the Whintillru Glass. But I guess he finagled me and used a future version instead." Jake narrowed her eyes. "Where do you remember coming from?" "Oh, it was this wonderful thing, where we were able to go to different Earths. It was called Sweptim. The Tiredist Noava was my lover for a time. He showed me an awful lot of wonderful things." "Sweptim..." Jake said. "You know about Sweptim?" the girl in the glass asked. "I've heard about it. From the writings of a man named Bavler Bestroystraw. It was the Aconck before Aconk," Jake said. "Aconck?" the glass girl asked. "Aconck, yeah. The interconnection of Earths. It was based on research Bavler did into a thing which is sometimes referred to as Sweptim." "So this is the future then." "To you I guess. I mean, the end of Sweptim is estimated to be about 500 years ago." "End?" "Yeah. It didn't work." "No?" "No," Jake said. "From the information that survived, it seems that Sweptim became unstable and eventually destroyed most of the Earths it touched." The glass girl nodded. "I bet The Tiredist Noava had something to do with that. The collapse. I remember him talking about something like that. But I didn't get into the technical side of it all too much." Jake raised her eyebrows and nodded. "Boy I tellya, there are some people back in Aconck who would love to talk to you! Too bad we're not gonna get back there." "No." "So what's your name, kid?" Jake asked. "Um, Pepperjinc of Clocks, I think." "Cool name." "I thought so." Leon James Hara then had an orgasm and threw the magazine down. He cleaned himself up with some toilet paper, but then stood, toilet paper wad in hand, and stared at the floor, looking very depressed. "Hey!" Jake said, and waved to him in his superimposed bathroom. Leon looked up at her. "I think I have mental illness," Leon said. "Why?" asked Jake. "Because of the situation with you. Because of my need to see those women printed on pages for sex and not a real woman. Those porno girls, pictures on paper, and you, a little more animated maybe, but not real. I hate myself. I wish I could just hold a real woman." "Why can't you?" Jake asked. "Because no woman will go out with me." "Have you tried asking a woman out?" "I fail in that. Women do not like me." "Have you tried hard?" "Not too hard." "So try hard." "No I can't," Leon said. Suddenly, a guy appeared. His was tall and solidly built, his skin a dark gray, his hair a deep black. He was burly. And he wore a very sinister-looking pair of sunglasses, a black dress shirt, black pants. and black boots. "Three people in trouble," he said in a deep, resonant voice. "Aw fuck, what now?" Jake said. "I'm The Carbonize Neighbor. I help people like you," the man said. Jake began shaking her head in frustrated resignation. Then there was a flash with lots of checkerboards in it, and everything changed. "Now we are four people," The Carbonize Neighbor said. They were in some kind of huge appliance and electronics store, standing near a display of cordless phones. All four of them were wearing green, black, and white outfits with green vests and nametags. It was the uniform of an employee of this store. The Carbonize Neighbor looked particularly funny in the outfit. His nametag said "The Carbonize Neighbor". Supple Jake looked down at her nametag and was surprised to see that is read "Jupple Sake". She turned slowly to look at The Carbonize Neighbor, but he just shrugged with a little grin. Leon James Hara, whose nametag said only "Leon", was wide-eyed in shock before he half-sat, half-fell to the ground. Pepperjinc of Clocks (nametag: "Pepperjinc of Clocks") cocked her head and looked as if she were in deep thought or trying to remember some vital piece of information. Real now, she was rather average in appearance, somewhat on the heavy side. One long auburn braid hanging down her back. She looked like a girl who might be a loser and loner in high school, getting into witchcraft and science fiction. But in her expression was a calmness and a poise, and you could see that she couldn't care less about the way she looked, that she was totally comfortable with herself. Smart, and a good person. "We work at store," The Carbonize Neighor then said, with his hands held out in front of him, a gesture of explantion. "We what?" Sake asked with emphasis and gestication and squinted eyes. Leon writhed. "I am... have mental illness... I am... have mental illness... oh mamma oh poppa I am... I am..." he mumbled. Pepperjinc glanced down at Leon but didn't pay much attention. Then she shot a focused gaze at Sake, and then to The Carbonize Neighbor. "Why does this seem... familiar?" The Carbonize Neighbor responded, "What, uh, what seems, uh, familiar about it?" Sake made a face to express her frustrated displeasure. "Okay, okay, okay," Sake said, accenting the words with her hands. "Could you--whoever you are--be a little more specific about what the fuck is going on? I mean, 'we work at store'--that much I got. But like, how did we get to store and why are we at store? Huh?" "Jupple Sake," The Carbonize Neighbor said, "you were... not in a good place... it was, to be blunt, in the masturbatory fantasies of Leon." He pronounced the name "Sake" like the alcoholic beverage, which rhymes with "jockey". "Okay wait," Sake said. "First of all, what's with the nametag? Jupple Sake? What, why, is it because I'm the other Supple Jake?" "It's your name," The Carbonize Neighbor said. Sake shook her head and said "Fine. Okay. I'm Jupple Sake, okay? Alright? No problemo. Yeah." Just then Leon screamed out "I want to be alive!" Sake, looking at Pepperjinc, motioned with her eyes down to Leon and said "Not used to interworld travel, I guess." Pepperjinc gave a little chuckle, in a good-natured and knowing way. Then Pepperjinc's eyes lit up and she addressed The Carbonize Neighbor. "Carbonize Neighbor, I can understand the helping of myself and Jupple Sake. We were not in lives, to speak of. But Leon James Hara was alive. And given time, he could have led a fulfilling life." "Ah, little Pepperjinc," The Carbonize Neighbor responded. "Leon was not quite what he seemed. A very twisted person. Some kind of hyperintelligent one-year-old, from god knows where, hooked into all kinds of computer networks and utterly insane, with multiple levels of delusions like you wouldn't believe. Either that, or I'm full of shit and I just made a mistake." Sake took a deep breath. "Okay. Now for me, this is good. I didn't like Mr. Hara's Small Universe of Trucks, nor the promise of having to avoid his clumsy advances till the Whintillru Glass came around and allowed me to go somewhere else. I mean, I may be wrong, but I think this might be a little better." The Carbonize Neighbor nodded. "It isn't perfect, but it's definitely better," he said. "And me," Pepperjinc said, "I'm all muddled. I know there was a real person who was me, but I don't know what part of that person was tied to the Glass. Anyway, being self-aware, I am a real mind, and I am one-hundred percent happy to be flesh and blood again." The Carbonize Neighbor nodded again. Leon began bellowing "Yayayayaya... yoyoyoyo.... yayoyayoyayo..." The Carbonize Neighbor walked over to Leon and knelt down beside him. "Leon, get a hold of yourself, kid," the massive Neighbor said. Leon stared up at The Carbonize Neighbor, wide-eyed, bloodshot. The Carbonize Neighbor looked over his shoulder at the two women, and turned his gaze back to Leon. "Um," The Carbonize Neighbor said, "first I have to say that I am sorry. I made a mistake. You were a little mad, and your imaginary world was so vivid that it registered as a valid, yet highly obscure alternate reality, and that is what attracted the Whintillru Glass to it. You were a little mad, and now you're a lot crazy, kid. I'm sorry. I do what I do, and sometimes people get hurt. I know my words aren't registering too much with you, but if any part of you is at all coherent, please accept my apology." Leon remained wide-eyed, but his gaze was blank, and he was motionless. The Carbonize Neighbor got up and faced the two women, looking a little ashamed. "I made all that up about him being a one-year-old. I was trying to hide the fact that I made a mistake. Were he that sort of a lost soul, then what I did wouldn't have been a mistake. We'll do all we can for him here. But I don't think there's much hope of him regaining any semblence of sanity. Not that either of you knew him, but I know all three of us are good and can feel sympathy." "Where's the Whintillru Glass?" Sake asked. "That Glass was part of the problem. Big problem. Many-dimensional, and parts of it jut into That Which Lies Beyond. Can't say much more. You can't have it back." Sake leaned against the cordless phone display. "So--this store--we work in this store. Is this a whole, big world, or is it just a little tiny store universe unto itself? Help me out a little bit here, Neighbor. Give me a little to work with. Cuz it could have been the other me who wound up in this fucking train wreck, the other me who wound up being named fucking Jupple Sake, goddammit." Pepperjinc put her hand on Sake's shoulder. "Come on, it's gonna be alright." Sake closed her eyes and nodded, but it was clearly apparent that she was crying. "Okay," The Carbonize Neighbor said, and he strode forward and put his hand on Sake's other shoulder. Sake started to cry harder, and then, without opening her eyes, she said, "Look man, what's your story? I gotta have something to work with here. Where are you at?" The Carbonize Neighbor nodded. "That's fair. I'll try to say something. You in trouble. I help you. Got Whintillru Glass, two particular cases, victims, in you and Pepperjinc of Clocks, of the two of the interconnection of the Earths, of called Sweptim and Aconck. See pattern. I see pattern. I help. Cannot communicate fully here. You better off than before. Here is open place, can go on from here maybe. I The Carbonize Neighbor, I help." Sake looked up at the man. "You're having trouble communicating?" "Yes and no." Then he looked up and regarded something in the distance. "Customers," he said. "I will get rid of Leon James Hara. Put him in back room. You take care of customers. Fake it, bullshit a little, you're smart girls, think on your feet, no problem, just play along. Act the part. Relax. Don't flip out. I'm telling you that if you flip out and start asking these customers what world you're on and all that it will only cause a lot of unneeded stress, for everybody." Then he turned, helped a now-semi-conscious Leon to his feet, and walked off with him through a door into the back of the store. The customers, two rich-looking women, approached. They started looking at the cordless phones. Sake and Pepperjinc stood still and exchanged glances. Then Sake started making silly faces at Pepperjinc, who returned a silly face, and then broke out laughing. One of the customers looked over at Pepperjinc and held up a cordless phone. "Excuse me," the customer said, without a hint of humor in her face or voice, but rather a little bitchiness, "could you tell me the range of this phone?" Pepperjinc strode forward and examined the phone the woman was holding. "Well let's see," Pepperjinc said. "What model is this? The Joptortec? The 4115. Yes, that would have the 14 feet of, um, range." The woman holding the phone frowned. She said, "14 feet? Is that it? That can't be right." "No," the other customer said, "it says here that all the phones have at least a 40-foot range." "Ah, but," Sake said, approaching the customers, "the correct way to define the range of a phone is to take the distance it can work under the worst conditions. So the 14 feet of this model translates to, in optimal conditions, roughly ten times that distance, or approximately 114 feet!" "Don't you mean 140 feet?" the other customer said. "Probably," Sake said, tapping her finger on the side of her head. "I used to be good at math, but I went through a period in my life when I did a lot of mind-altering drugs, and that kinda takes the edge off the math ability in your brain." Pepperjinc burst out laughing. The first customer was furious. "I don't know what this is all about, but I want to talk to a manager." "Well babe," Sake said, "why don't you manage to get the fuck out of our store? It's easy. Just take your fucking feet and move them any which way as long as they get you closer to the goodamn door!" Pepperjinc went into hysterics, laughing so hard she had to grasp the edge of the cordless phone display to keep from falling over. "I demand to see a manager!" the first customer said. The other customer took her by the sleeve, looked at Sake and Pepperjinc with a worried expression, and said, "Look, let's just get out of here. We can call the manager from home. And we can hit the Joptortec outlet store when we go out to Kim this weekend." The first customer acquiesced, but gave Sake and Pepperjinc a very nasty look as she departed. Sake and Pepperjinc again exchanged glances, trying to hold back from laughing. But then Sake said, "We tried!" and Pepperjinc broke out into hysterics again. Then The Carbonize Neighbor came back. "What's the matter girls? What happened?" "Oh," Sake said, "um, well the customers, um, they um, they told us a really funny joke... about this guy's penis, and..." The two women broke out into total hysterics, and The Carbonize Neighbor shook his head with a little smile. "What's not funny is," The Carbonize Neighbor said, "this country is going to have a war next week." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 5: THE CARBONIZE NEIGHBOR CUPLINE'S END ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 6: YELLOWHAUS 3 Chapters--SR-061 thru SR-063 ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 6: YELLOWHAUS CHAPTER 1 SR-061 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 1 sr01 06.1--Yellowhaus 1 -------------------------- ============================== "It's time I told you all something about Yellowhaus," Chamomile said, walking to the far side of the meeting table. She wore a light-yellow martial arts outfit. Sulfur let out a single cynical snicker. "What does it matter now?" he said. Chamomile sat down. "I guess it's back to Hell for me!" the devil girl Lemon said, leaning on her pitchfork. "Me too! Me too!" the mad dog guy Canary yelped out. The huge, furry, yellow beast Buff jumped up and grabbed a bar on the ceiling, swinging. "I don't think you have anything to worry about, Canary. You'll get there one way or another." "How! How!" Canary yelled, swinging his chain around. "There's something you all need to know about Yellowhaus," Chamomile said softly but firmly. "What?" Sulfur asked, fashioning and solidifying a grim reaper figurine out of the mists surrounding his body. He wore yellow combat fatigues. "Hey, I know that guy!" Lemon commented brightly. "C'mon everybody," Buff said, still swinging. "So what if it's not us saving the day this time? We can't save the world every time. The Libertine A-Wave needs some practice anyway!" Chamomile looked up at Buff, a deadly serious look on her face. "The Libertine A-Wave are all dead." Buff paused in his swinging, then continued, saying only "Oh." "Now how could that have happened?" Sulfur asked. "Look all of you!" Chamomile said loudly, standing up. "I know we're used to this sort of thing, but there's something you have to know! Yellowhaus is a lot more than just our base of operations. It's an ancient... vehicle." "Is that why we never had a Yellowhausmobile?" Lemon asked, smiling broadly. Chamomile looked down, trying to hold in her frustration, a dull, dead feeling covering her whole body. Then she looked up and spoke, the beginnings of tears in her eyes. "I never told any of you because I didn't think it was important. But Yellowhaus has the ability to move between worlds, between universes. And it... and..." The four others were silent. "...it has a... a safety mechanism. Whenever a world is about to... end... it gets ready to transport away, automatically. And... and when we were just coming in, I noticed that... that the worldend autotransport had activated itself." Chamomile was now openly weeping, a sight none of the others had ever seen from their leader. "Yellowhaus will transport away from this world in about 40 minutes," she said. "So what does this mean?" Sulfur asked. "It means," Chamomile said, nodding and looking up, "that the world will end in 45 minutes. Universe O'Riley will finally get his way." "No way!" Canary yelled. "Come on team! Let's go kick his celestial ass! Come on!" "Yeah!" Lemon shrieked. "Let's go teach this guy a lesson he'll never forget!" "I'm ready to cause some major damage!" Buff exclaimed as he jumped down to the floor. Chamomile shot out a spirit-energy fireball that exploded against the back wall, narrowly missing Buff. "You don't understand," Chamomile said. "The mechanisms within Yellowhaus are not reacting to a possible end of the world. They are detecting a definite, inalterable end to our world. If we had any chance of stopping O'Riley, the mechanism would not have activated!" "So that's it?" Buff asked. "After everything that's happened, this is the way it ends?" "Where do we get to go! Oh boy!" Lemon asked brightly. "What?" Chamomile asked, taken by surprise. "Where will Yellowhaus take us? To another world like you said?" Lemon asked. "I don't know. As far as I know, we should get to a safe place in another world, but I have no way of knowing where that might be. Kimberly only gave me a rough overview before she... departed," Chamomile said. "Shouldn't we try and save some other folks?" Buff asked. Chamomile turned away. "There's not enough time. All our communications are out, and as you know, our hovercrafts are shot." "But there's a town near here. We could at least save a few people," Buff said. Chamomile turned to face him. "They have no idea what's happening! Why should we ruin the last few minutes of their lives--especially with the injustice of only being able to save a few of them! Besides, there's not even enough time for that!" "We should at least try," Buff said. "Why?" Chamomile said. "It's all over! We just happen to be incredibly lucky! It's not our fault. So let's just start getting prepared for what we might encounter in the next world. Or rather, the alternate world we're going to--hopefully not the next world yet." "Yeah!" Lemon said. "What's gonna happen to Hell if the world ends? Isn't Hell part of the world?" "Well Lemon, I'm not sure, but I believe that O'Riley seeks to destroy everything, Heaven and Hell included," Chamomile said. "I see," Lemon replied, a little shaken. Then she brightened and said "No more Hell! No more Slaverceth! No more responsibilities! Yipee!" "Yeah, yippee! Yippee!" Canary echoed. "I still think--" Buff started. "--look Buff!" Sulfur interrupted. "I admire you as the only moral voice on our team, but truly, it's over. What would you do, separate people from their friends and relatives, and thrust them into an unknown new world? How could they make a decision such as that in a few seconds? Letting them die in peace is far more humane." "I'd still like to save a few people," Buff said, looking down. "But Chamomile is right. There's not time." "Heh heh, look!" Canary said, crouching down and cupping his hands together. "What?" Sulfur asked. Canary made an explosion noise and moved his hands apart. "The world blowing up! The world blowing up!" Chamomile rolled her eyes. "Okay everyone! Pay attention! Back to reality! Anything that's outside the Haus has to be brought in--only the Haus itself and everything inside will be transported." "There's not much stuff out there. We brought most of it in when it rained last week," Sulfur said. "My bike's out there," Buff said. "Okay. Lemon, go out with Buff and get his bike. The rest of us will continue preparations inside," Chamomile said. "Okay, c'mon big boy," Lemon said to Buff as they headed for the elevator. Soon, the two were outside in the yard of Yellowhaus. "So where is it?" Lemon asked. "I think it's over by those trees," Buff said, pointing. They walked about a hundred yards to the edge of the woods and found Buff's enormous bicycle on its side on the ground. "Okay, get it and let's go in. I don't like it out here. Too quiet," Lemon said. "You're probably used to the sounds of souls being tortured day in and day out!" Buff said, picking up his bike. Lemon smiled. "And oh, what a sound it is!" The two began to walk back. "So now you'll never be Queen of Hell." "Who gives a damn?" Then, suddenly, a sound of thunder split the sky. "What in--" Buff began, but stopped as he saw a figure fall from the sky and land with a thud on the ground. "Who is that?" Lemon asked. "Dunno. Looks like one of The Libertine A-Wave, maybe." The two walked forward, and the red-and-black clad figure began to stir. "Sure! That's Colonia the Sword! You know, from Libertine A-Wave. Right," Lemon said. "Oh yeah... but I thought they all died!" "Maybe it's a trick! Maybe it's O'Riley's doing!" Lemon said, pointing her pitchfork forward. Colonia the Sword lifted himself up into a sitting position. "Yellowhaus!" he struggled, out of breath. "It's all over... only one left.. have to help... help stop... O'Riley." "Think it's really him?" Lemon asked. "Yeah. I mean, why would O'Riley bother with this sort of charade when his victory is at hand? It's gotta be Colonia. He can teleport, you know," Buff said. "I guess," Lemon said. "Colonia! Whattaya doing man? The world's gonna end in about a half-hour! Hey, guy?" Colonia fell back to the ground, barely conscious. "Can ya bring him in Lemon? My hands are full with this bike." "No problem," Lemon said, and she poked her pitchfork under the collar of Colonia's jacket and lifted his limp and unconscious form. "So we did save at least one person," Buff said. "If you wanna call him that." "Oh, he's a person. Maybe not a human being in exact terms, but a person nonetheless. I mean, am I a person? Are you?" "I guess you're right Buff. It's just--isn't this guy a sword?" "Yeah, he was some god's sword. But he had a life power all his own." "Nice," Lemon said. Inside, Chamomile and the others were busy figuring out how to airtight a portion of Yellowhaus in case the atmosphere of the alternate world was unbreathable. Then Buff and Lemon came in with the bike and Colonia the Sword. "Look what we found, Chamomile!" Lemon said, smiling, her little fangs sparkling in the fading sunlight. "What the--it's one of The Libertine A-Wave!" Sulfur exclaimed. "I thought they had all died," Chamomile commented as she approached, "but it makes sense that Colonia might have escaped with his teleportation power. But how did he know to come here?" "And did O'Riley follow him?" Sulfur wondered. "Aw," Lemon said, dropping Colonia gently onto a table, "me and Buff figure O'Riley is too busy destroying the universe to care about any of us." "That may be," Chamomile said, turning toward an instrument panel, "but I hope everyone's in, cuz I'm sealing Yellowhaus." With that, she pulled a lever and a loud chime echoed throughout the structure. "Nothing will ever come into or go out of Yellowhaus in this world ever again," Chamomile said. "What do you mean?" Buff asked. "Another of Yellowhaus's many secrets. Reality seal. It takes Yellowhaus slightly out of phase with the current world, thusly still allowing observations but preventing any passage in or out," Chamomile said. Suddenly Canary began whooping and hollering by a window. "Look!" Sulfur said. "Out the window! It's Universe O'Riley!" All five rushed to the bay of windows and saw the horrific form of Universe O'Riley hovering in the middle of the yard, pointing at them. "Damn!" Buff said. "Are you sure we're safe? Are you sure he can't follow us into the other world?" "I believe we're safe," Chamomile responded. "Look." O'Riley raised his other arm and made both hands into fists. Soon, a massive windstorm overtook the area, getting more and more powerful each second. Before they knew it, trees started to uproot and fly away, as the ferocity of the storm grew. "It's totally quiet in here," Sulfur remarked. "That would make sense," Chamomile responded. "Only visible light can pass back and forth between in here and out there. No sound." Buff continued staring at O'Riley for a few moments, then suddenly tackled the other four, knocking them all to the ground. "Close your eyes!" he yelled, still on top of them. "What the fuck!" Canary yelped. "Stay down and keep your eyes closed!" Buff yelled, his enormous voice echoing through the silence of Yellowhaus. "Visible light! Don't you get it? He could mind control or even kill us with his power. Pulses of hypnotic light! He could have shut our hearts down in a blink! He could have made us do anything!" Suddenly, violent pulses of light began to flicker from outside, barely perceptible by the five, their eyes tightly shut. "Damn that O'Riley!" Chamomile yelled. "Have to opaque the windows! Have to get to the control panel!" "Keep down!" Sulfur yelled. "Shield your eyes! If you can see the light even a little, he could get through with his power!" "Damn!" Chamomile yelled. "I'm over here!" the five heard a weary voice say from within the room. "On the table! It's me, Colonia the Sword, from Libertine A-Wave. I have eye protection on. Tell me where to go and I can close the windows. "Shit," Chamomile muttered. "Okay Colonia! You're right by it! Just get off the table away from the sound of my voice!" "Got it!" Colonia yelled. "Now--" Chamomile began. "--what if he's under O'Riley's control? How can we trust him?" Buff yelled. "We have no choice, Buff," Chamomile answered. "Now Colonia, walk forward and to the right. You should feel the counter there. Okay?" "Okay." "Now, move to the right along the counter and you'll feel a dome shape." "Got it," Colonia answered after a few seconds. "Okay, that's it," Chamomile said. "Feel for a ring. It's on the upper-left of the panel. Just pull on the ring. It's the only ring there." The intensity of the pulsing light increased. A few tense moments passed. "I can't find it!" Colonia yelled. "Damn!" Chamomile exclaimed. "Okay, feel for a lever, then--" "--I got it! The ring! Just pull?" Colonia said. "Yes! Pull it! Just pull it!" Chamomile responded. Suddenly it was dark. "Whew!" Buff puffed. "Get offa me you throw rug!" Canary yelled. "Someone get the lights!" Sulfur yelled. "You called?" Lemon asked, as the room was bathed in the hellish yellow glow of her pitchfork. "Great. But can we get some real lights?" Sulfur said, getting up. "I'll get 'em," Chamomile said, already on her feet. "You're all very lucky," Colonia said, taking the opaque goggles off his eyes. "He was going for the kill, not mind control or hypnosis or anything like that. You were right when you thought he would shut your hearts off--that was his intention." "So what now?" Buff asked. "Well, he can still see Yellowhaus," Chamomile said, turning the lights on. "But other than that, he can't make any contact with it." "So will he be able to follow us?" Buff asked. "No," Colonia said. "He's locked into this world. There's no turning back for him now. He has to go through with it--destroying himself in the process. But we've defeated him in a little way--he'll face his doom knowing that he failed to destroy everything." "That's a comforting thought," Sulfur commented. "Well everyone," Chamomile said from the control panel. "We transport in 26 minutes. All we can do now is wait." "Yeah," Sulfur said. "It's creepy, knowing that guy is right outside!" Lemon said with a shiver. "It's creepy with you in here! Whoop!" Canary said. "Roll over, boy," Lemon said. Canary growled at Lemon with a smile. "So Colonia," Chamomile said, looking the fellow over, "how'd you manage to escape from our friend Mr. O'Riley?" "It's a long story. For now, let it suffice to say that two of my teammates sacrificed themselves that I might survive to tell the tale." "But how did you know to come to Yellowhaus?" Chamomile asked. "I had suspicions about this place. Call it 'weapon's intuition' if you will. I just had a gut feeling you could help us. And as it turns out, you're at least helping me, and maybe through me Libertine A-Wave can live on." "Well friend," Chamomile said. "We're happy to have another ally on our journey into unknown territory. Let's just hope our flight lasts more than 25 more minutes." "Indeed," Colonia said. "So we are off to another world then, really?" "Really," Chamomile said. "Hmm," Colonia said with a sigh. "The adventure continues." "Except," Sulfur cut in, "all our friends and relatives, and everyone we ever knew, will be dead and gone." "Oh Sulfy! Don't be such a party pooper--this is fun!" Lemon said. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 6: YELLOWHAUS CHAPTER 2 SR-062 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 3 sr03 06.2--Yellowhaus 2 -------------------------- ============================== "A year?" Lemon screeched, an abstract cosmic wonderland drifting by outside the window behind her. "Please," Chamomile said, cringing and holding her finger to her ear. "There's no need to shout. You'll burst all our eardrums." "Okay! I'll be quiet! But a year! We have to hang out in here for an entire fucking year?" Lemon said, not much quieter than before. "Okay," Chamomile said, turning to an information screen. "As you know, Kimberly only gave me an overview of Yellowhaus's systems, but from what I'm seeing here, our flight time, or whatever you want to call it, will be something like 410 days." "Great," Sulfur said. "You gave us the impression we'd be instantly transported to another world, and now this? Talk about a letdown!" "Sulfur!" Chamomile said. "Would you rather be dead like everyone else? Wake up! I don't think you've absorbed this yet--the world is destroyed. Everyone is dead." "Yeah but still, five minutes into our journey and we find out this. What's next? I mean, do we even have enough food? Oxygen? Supplies?" Sulfur said. "You underestimate Yellowhaus," Chamomile said. "That kind of stuff is no problem. All you guys getting along for a year--now that's a problem." "Hey! We can spend some quality time together!" Canary said. "Shut up," Lemon said. Suddenly, Colonia the Sword moaned. "What's wrong, Colonia?" Chamomile asked. "Oh dear--this is not good," Colonia said, looking very pale. "This is not very good at all." "What is it?" Buff asked. "I was afraid of this," Colonia said, a look of panic beginning to spread across his face. "The god who granted me my humanity, Crinim--he's gone. It was his power that allowed me to assume human form. I never worried about it, huh, you know--Crinim was immortal. He was never supposed to die. Now this--" There was a loud cracking noise and Colonia jolted backwards, his hands moving to a position straight against his body, and a blank look appearing on his face. Chamomile jumped forward and grabbed Colonia before he fell backwards. But it was no good--she could feel Colonia shrinking and hardening with every passing moment. "Someone help me!" she yelled. Buff approached Chamomile. "What can I do?" he asked. Chamomile felt a sharp pain in her hands and reflexively let go of Colonia, now halfway back to being a sword. He fell to the ground with a dull clang. "We can't do anything," Chamomile said. "He's just another casualty of O'Riley's madness." "Well--he'll still be conscious, won't he?" Sulfur asked. "I mean--he was conscious as a sword, no?" "Who knows!" Canary yelped. "I like it how he's transforming! It's cool!" "Shut up, you heartless idiot!" Buff yelled at Canary. "If it was you, you wouldn't think it was cool!" "I agree with Canary," Lemon said, putting her arm around Canary's shoulders. "It's cool." "Don't listen to them," Buff said. "They're just trying to annoy us." "They're succeeding!" Sulfur quipped. At this point, Colonia was in the final stages of returning to sword-form. "Let's just hope he retains his mind," Buff said gently. The five members of Yellowhaus watched helplessly as the transformation became complete, and Colonia was a sword once again. "At least he's a nice-looking sword," Lemon commented. "You're such a monster!" Chamomile yelled at Lemon. "Why did I ever let you join this team in the first place?" "Cause I'm so cute!" Lemon said. "Yeah. That was it," Chamomile said sarcastically. They waited silently for a moment, all staring at the sword. "Should we--I don't know--pick him up?" Buff asked. No one answered. "Can he talk, do you think? As a sword?" Chamomile said. "As far as I know, from the legends," Sulfur said, "those intelligent swords and spears and stuff could only communicate if someone was holding them. You know--telepathically or something. I don't know." "Well, I guess I'll touch him and see if he can talk to me. Sound good?" Chamomile asked. "I guess it's all we can do," Buff said sadly. Slowly, Chamomile knelt down and touched her right hand to Colonia's hilt. She had a look of intense concentration for a moment, then spoke. "He's definitely here. His thoughts are jumbled--I guess from the shock of the transformation--but he seems okay. Wait--I'm getting something--'sorry, need time to recover, give me time'." No one spoke. Chamomile closed her eyes and concentrated. "Okay," she said. "I told him we'd let him rest and recover. Let me ask him if it's okay to move him... Yes... He says it's okay. Alright. I'll put him on the counter here." With this, she gingerly took Colonia by the hilt and lifted him to the countertop, keeping him parallel to the ground at all times. When she set him down, she breathed a sigh of relief. "At least he's still with us," Buff said. "Thank goodness," Chamomile said, frowning in thought, narrowing her eyes, and carefully examining Colonia. He was a most exquisitely-crafted weapon, she thought. She had a flash vision of the thrill of using such a sword in battle, contemplating the notion of adopting him as her primary weapon. But she pushed back these thoughts. Too selfish... "That was cool!" Canary yelped. Buff strode over to Canary and grabbed the mad dog guy, holding him up in his massive paws. "Shut up, man!" Buff boomed. "You're such a stupid jerk! I'll tear you apart!" Canary thrashed about wildly, white froth foaming out of his mouth. "Put him down!" Chamomile yelled. "We're in for a long ride! We have to learn to get along! Please Buff--you're the one I was depending on to keep the peace." Buff dropped Canary down roughly. Canary's body was limp, and he laid there with his eyes staring into nothingness and his tongue stuck out. "Oh no," Buff said quietly, stepping back. "You killed him!" Lemon yelled, pointing her pitchfork at Buff. "Oh come on!" Chamomile moaned. "He's just faking it! He always does that!" They all looked at Canary for a few more moments, then the madman burst out laughing. "You fucking jerk," Buff said, turning away. "Okay, come on people!" Chamomile said. "We have to get our act together! Sulfur, Buff--come with me--we have to go down--way down--into the depths of Yellowhaus. I want to corroborate this 410 day reading. Okay? Lemon--you keep an eye on Canary. Keep him away from Colonia! I mean it!" "No sweat, chief," Lemon said, saluting. "I hope not," Chamomile said, descending a spiral staircase with Buff and Sulfur. Lemon smiled and nodded, and Chamomile looked back one more time to check on things. "Man, I'm so tired," Canary said, still on the ground. "I'm gonna take a nap, wake up from this crummy dream. Grumble, grumble." Canary then curled up into a fetal position and smacked his lips a few times. "Pleasant dreams, doggy," Lemon said, a sly smile crossing her face. "And while those party poopers are gone, I have a nice little spell which might help Swordie here. What a nice devil I am--always saving the day!" Lemon then walked over to the counter, grabbed Colonia, and lifted him up before her. "Okay there fella!" Lemon said, sensing Colonia's confused thoughts. "You'll be all better in a minute--thanks to Doctor Lemon!" The devil girl set her pitchfork aside, and lifted Colonia up higher with both hands. Then she began uttering a spell in her native Infernal tongue. Almost instantly, Colonia was surrounded with a shower of jittery, multicolored sparks. Chuckling with glee, Lemon set Colonia on the ground and backed away. "Lemon!" Chamomile yelled from the stairway. "What are you doing?" Lemon turned, surprised, wearing a mock-innocent, "uh-oh" look. "Oh hi Chamomile! I thought you were..." Chamomile did not look happy. "...uh," Lemon continued, "you know! Going downstairs with the boys, uh..." "What did you do!" Chamomile yelled, jumping forward. "Just, y'know, trying to help!" Just then, the shower of sparks grew into a spectacular storm, swirling and filling half the room. A deep, resonant, bass rumble began to rhythmically beat. Lemon backed away, then turned and ran to the stairway, kneeling beside Chamomile. "I know this looks bad, but believe me--I did it with the best intentions!" the devil girl said. Chamomile said nothing, but watched, transfixed, as the maelstrom of sparks slowly began to coalesce. Soon Sulfur and Buff were back, running up the stairs. "What is it?" Buff yelled. Chamomile looked down and held up her hand. Then she looked back at the mystical display, where the sparks were now definitely in a human shape. "See?" Lemon said. "I did it! I did it! I healed Colonia! I brought him back!" Chamomile looked at the devil girl, wondering whether to thank her or strangle her. She thought again of how cool it would have been to have an intelligent sword, but she put that selfish though aside. "Look!" Lemon shouted. The sparks quickly died down, revealing a supine form, definitely human, but... "See?" Lemon said. "My spell worked!" Chamomile stood up and moved forward a little, to get a better view. "Wait a minute," Chamomile said under her breath. Then she moved forward a little more. "Wait a goddamn minute!" "What?" Lemon asked, trying to look innocent. The sparks and rumblings were totally gone now, as Canary began to snore loudly. Chamomile slowly walked forward. "Oh come on," the leader said. "Son of a bitch." Lemon got up, and started toward Colonia also. "You gotta be kidding!" Chamomile said. "What is it? What is it?" Lemon asked, walking forward. "Look for yourself!" Chamomile said. Lemon looked at Colonia, who while still unconscious, turned over and faced the two. "Crap," Lemon said. Colonia was now a cute devil girl--horns, fangs, voluptuous body, pointed tail--the works. The former sword looked vaguely similar to her previous human manifestation--black hair, tattoo on cheek, etc. But that was pretty much where the comparisons ended. Chamomile gave Lemon a look--a look which said more than words can say. Lemon smiled innocently, revealing those dangerous fangs. "Um--at least he--uh--she--isn't a sword anymore!" Chamomile didn't say anything. "I didn't know! My 'grant humanity' spell always worked fine on other things! How did I know he'd decide to go and look like he could be one of my sisters?" Chamomile still didn't speak. "Oh it's not that bad! You know one of me isn't enough!" "Lemon," Chamomile said, striving to remain calm. "You should have consulted me first. Does the fact that I'm the leader of this team mean anything to you or Canary?" "Um, yeah. To me at least. I don't know about Canary," Lemon said, then in a more animated manner, "But I just couldn't wait! I had to try my spell! All I wanted to do was save the day!" Chamomile sighed. "Okay Lemon. You will be the one to explain to Colonia exactly what has happened to him--er--her." "No way! Not me!" "Lemon--that's an order," Chamomile said, then turned away. "If my orders mean anything to you anymore." Lemon was silent for a moment, but then she spoke. "Oh, okay. Aye aye, captain. I'll do it." Chamomile looked back at Lemon. "Thank you." Lemon waited a few moments, then asked, "Why'd you come back, anyway?" "Because, I had to write down some information from the main screen. Which I guess I'll do while you explain your little stunt to Colonia--it looks like... she is coming to!" Colonia moaned and opened her eyes. "Dear goodness, what is this?" she said, holding her hands up in front of her face and sitting up a little. They were slender female hands, with wicked sharp fingernails. "Lemon?" Chamomile said, looking over from the screen. "Oh okay!" Lemon said, kneeling down beside Colonia. "Um--Colonia? Um--there's something, I, uh, have to tell you. You know how you--well, how you turned back into a sword? Well, I mean, I know you're gonna be upset, but when, uh, when the others went downstairs, I, uh, I tried a little spell on you, you know, to bring you back to being human? Well it worked--pretty much. I mean, you're back, but, you know, the way these things go..." Colonia looked down at her gorgeous female body with a puzzled expression on her face, then she stared right at Lemon. "Um," Lemon said. "I kind of cast the spell on you and you kind of, um, took on, um, some of my physical, um, characteristics." "Some?" Colonia said, in her new, sultry, devil girl voice. "Well, maybe more than some. Maybe a lot." "Maybe all," Colonia said. "Hey, at least you're not a carbon copy of me!" Lemon said brightly. Colonia stared at Lemon. Lemon bit her lip. "I'm sorry. I can try and reverse the spell if you want." "No," Colonia said, easing her expression a little. "I'd rather be this than a blind, deaf, and dumb hunk of metal any day." Lemon sighed and laughed a little, and Colonia sat up. Buff and Sulfur exchanged glances, at a loss for words. "You don't know what it was like, being a sword again," Colonia said, tears welling up in her eyes. "It was the most horrible pain. I couldn't bear it. I hated being a sword! I swore to never go back! And now--and now---you've saved me!" With this, Colonia embraced a shocked Lemon. "Thank you so much," Colonia said. "Uh, no problem! Glad to be of assistance!" Lemon said, sticking her tongue out at Chamomile across the room. Colonia eased her embrace and backed away from Lemon. "You really saved my life," Colonia said. Then she gave Lemon a little kiss on the lips. "I'll get used to this body." Lemon smiled and sat back. "Hear that everybody? I saved the day! Me, Lemon! I did it! What would you all do without me?" Buff and Sulfur didn't answer, but continued staring at the stunning beauty of this new Colonia, disturbing and dangerously delightful thoughts running through their minds. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 6: YELLOWHAUS CHAPTER 3 SR-063 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 5 sr05 06.3--Yellowhaus 3 -------------------------- ============================== "Now Canary, tell me more about your home life." The luscious devil girl Lemon sat in a chair, legs crossed, hair done up in a bun, with glasses on, and writing notes down in a little pad. The wild dog fellow Canary was lying down on a little couch next to Lemon. "Mommy spoiled me doc, what can I say?" "Don't you have any gruesome, shocking, nightmarish memories to tell your doctor now, Canary?" "Um... nope!" "Now how do you expect me to psychoanalyze you if you had a good childhood! Hah?" Canary sneezed a nasty sneeze. "You're the doc, you tell me. Arr arr arr!" Lemon lifted the glasses off her nose a little and stared at her patient. "Well now! Finally some progress! An unexpected burst of animal aggression!" Just then, Chamomile came into the room. Colonia the Sword, in her new devil girl form, followed. "Oh, now what the hell are you doing now?" Chamomile said impatiently. "Psychoanalyzing Canary to find out why he's so crazy," Lemon said with a smile. Chamomile looked away, took a sharp intake of air, and bit her lip. "Lord, give me patience." Lemon's eyes locked with Colonia's and there was a vital spark between them. Colonia smiled and motioned with her head and eyebrows toward another part of Yellowhaus. "Lemon," Chamomile said, bending over to pick up a mess of scattered magazines on the floor, "we still have well over a year before we reach our destination--could you please try and have some consideration for the rest of us?" Lemon eyed Chamomile's athletic, graceful form. Adorned with her loose yellow martial arts clothing, Lemon appreciated the contrast between the beauty and the deadliness of Chamomile. She liked Chamomile, even if she did so enjoy taunting her. "If I cure Canary from his craziness, that'll help us all, boss," the psychoanalyst devil girl said. Canary yowled wildly. Chamomile stood up and threw the magazine back on the ground. "I mean it! Please make an effort to clean up after yourself and make yourself useful! "Chamomile said. "I know you want to help people, and that's commendable, but don't do it at the expense of others!" Lemon gave Chamomile a salute. Chamomile gave Lemon a grimace, and then turned and left. Lemon turned to Colonia. "What a grouch! She has to learn to calm down!" "Maybe you can psychoanalyze her, too," Colonia said with a sexy smirk. "I wish." "So when you're done with Canary there, think you can help me out? There are a lot of peculiarities, being a devil girl. I never imagined. I don't know how you deal with it." "Oh, I'll be more than glad to assist you--just let me finish up with the carpet here." Canary went limp, his tongue hanging out of his mouth, panting. "He sure is nuts," Colonia said. "Yup. And that's what I aim to fix!" Just then, a big snore came from Canary. "Asleep again!" Lemon exclaimed. "Is it narcolepsy, or just plain laziness? I must investigate further! But all in good time." Lemon got up and crossed the room to Colonia. "Come on sister. We have much to discuss." Lemon led Colonia by the hand. Soon they came to Lemon's room. It was an eclectic mix of cushions, gold and brass decorations, paintings from Hell, and a few torture devices. "Like it?" Lemon asked. "You know, I think I do," Colonia said slowly, sitting down on a sofa. Lemon sat down next to her. "Now Colonia, I know what you must be going through. Being a devil girl is a tough business. But you're lucky--I'm here to help!" "Yeah--it seems like being a devil girl might be rather great, it's just these feelings, these images, these urges..." Lemon held her fingers to Colonia's lips. "Shush. First things first." Colonia nodded. "Now," Lemon said. "The first thing we have to work on is your name. 'Colonia the Sword' just won't do. Too dull. What other names have you been known by?" Colonia frowned in thought and looked away. "You know--I don't know. I guess I've been called a few things in my time. I was forged as Colonia, but one of my owners called me Becamman the Stordred." Lemon shook her head. "He said I was his insurance against marauders from the hills. Huh. That was a long time ago," Colonia said. Lemon smiled. "Insurance... his insurance... that's it! Insurance! That's a fine devil girl name! How 'bout it, sister?" "What--to change my name to 'Insurance'?" "Yeah--isn't it great! Has a real nice feel to it! Very sinister, yet very alluring at the same time--exactly as you want it to be!" "Hmm..." "Give it some thought. Give yourself a minute." Colonia nodded and though about it. "Well?" Lemon said after a few seconds. "Whattaya think? Is it you, or is it you?" "Um, I think it could work..." "Yeah! There you go! I, Lemon, Princess of Hell, hereby dub thee 'Insurance'! Congratulations!" Insurance raised her eyebrows and gave Lemon a sarcastic look. "Well, I guess I can live with that. Insurance. Huh. At least it'll help me get farther away from my past, from being a cold shaft of steel, from the pain of living like that." "That's the spirit, Insurance! Get into your new life! Oh sister, we're going to have such a wonderful year together in Yellowhaus as we near our destination! I have big plans for you!" "I hope I can live up to your expectations." "You will, Insurance. You will." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 6: YELLOWHAUS CUPLINE'S END ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 7: HONEYSUCKLE ROVER 3 Chapters--SR-064 thru SR-066 ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 7: HONEYSUCKLE ROVER CHAPTER 1 SR-064 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 4 sr04 07.1--Tavmatey -------------------------- ============================== Ah, the wavy day today, the day of lust in the breezy hills and woods, the rain before and the bus ride after. Steamy talk and amazing car crashes in the dull evening, the formula for happiness tested in weird ways. Never before such a meandering of the emotions, never again the fragile entity of a simple drizzle. The slam in the face of an air conditioned room, a couch and a television cauterizing the vulnerable opening moves of a flower of earthy innocence. She looked down. The confusion of the good day, she sighed. Wonderful incision ignition, but stunted. Stunted under the swift heavy thumb of the matter-of-fact. A glimpse into a remarkable existence, but snuffed and abandoned. Tavmatey Numblem was the girl here, and she was on the couch and the TV was warming up. She had just returned from a little sojourn into the country, a little excursion with her friends. And there were so many new feelings and so many expectations, that now, back here, she felt robbed, even violated. That the promise of the pungent day was smashed was a sorrowful and stunning complication. Solace? Solace in fantasy? No. Not this time. It had been too close. All of her dreams and desires revealed chessboardlike on the hilly terrain--this was no passage. This was a sign, an indication. This vision, having fallen apart so enthusiastically, must contain more meaning. A bad TV show came into view. Tavmatey pounced upon the set and shut the damn thing off. But not like a cat--rather, like a great clumsy moron. She crouched, holding the TV set for a moment, and regretted her ungainly private motion. So the time was at hand to decide. So it would only be a few moments until she passed into the next sequential state, until she put the picnic out of her mind enough to go on to another subject. But in that instant--how could another subject be as urgent and delightful as this? So she got up and grabbed a lamp from the table and turned it upside down. This, she declared to herself, was the symbol of the meaning of the picnic. As long as it was inverted, she would have to mull over the significance of the outing. So she lounged on the couch in the invert light, and she bathed in the angles of force of her seething intelligence. Now Tavmatey was not exaggerating things. No, today was certainly a day of great import. Her past visions of lust and ecstasy, of the spiritual and physical merging with mud and the grass, of the ideals of intellectual freedom and artistic flights of genius. All of these were there at the picnic, and now it was ended, but she needed to continue it. The only problem was, that while the group as a whole seemed to work in terms of her ideal vision, she could not see any of the individuals really grasping or representing her design. What was to be designed to craft a good continuance? She wondered. The day was gone. It was night. As a gnat flies into the corner of your eye in the summer, and your blink annihilates it, and you feel its cold corpse clinging to the edge of your eyelid, and you wipe it away, and you're momentarily away from where you are, having dealt with the gnat, that was in a way what she felt the day had done to her. Obliterated her. Now it was sex. The lust of earthy sex that excited her mind. But the sex she'd had up till now was anything but lusty and lurid. It was drunken and tense and with stupid boys. Dummies, emotional midgets, true bastards and bastards in the making. Shallow coreless automatons, who were just about worthless. She bemoaned the fact that she had to judge some people without value. Indeed, her ideals spoke of all people being equal and having equal worth. But in reality, and quite honestly, this was not the case. Some people were very excellent, with all sorts of value, but others were stupid and childish, and not on the way to getting any better. So Tavmatey had to admit that her ideals of pure equality were indeed hogwash. No, she thought, most people are not very excellent. Most people are jerk-offs. But there were the cool people. People who really felt and really thought and really experienced life and who really interacted with the roller coastings of existence. But these were few and far between. But this was not the main problem. No, such cool people could indeed be sought out, and relationships with them nurtured. But the problem was that the picnic was gone, and Tavmatey knew not how to resurrect it at 10 PM on Sunday night. We hate bad people and we like good people and we love those people who aren't really good or bad. Don't be busy being clever, experience life. But this maxim sucks, see, this credo to experience life is a lot of bull. You need lots of money to experience life. And a job drains your life from under you. So not that many people can experience life. That notion that you can do anything you want as long as you put your mind to it--that was also a false statement. You can't do anything you want. Most dreams are unattainable, no matter how hard you try. For most people, they're simply unqualified and unable to achieve, so they put their energy into adaptation and resignation, so that their failure doesn't taste so bitter. So that they can live with the Arctic stings of a life's defeat. And Tavmatey knew she was headed there herself. And she knew that naught but dumb luck could save her. So the phone rang. It was the bastard dumb luck calling, to deliver that which she so yearned after. The delivery would be quite massive and complete, and she would be thankful, yet screwed, but would gain wisdom in the long run. For what was to be delivered was not so much pure as it was gritty and dirty, as was life. But it was better than most other courses available that month. But I'm getting ahead of myself. "Hello?" Tavmatey answered. "Hi," answered the awesome sex kitten Sleap. "I have the coffee." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 7: HONEYSUCKLE ROVER CHAPTER 2 SR-065 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 7 sr07 07.2--Looter -------------------------- ============================== Sleap sat at her new desk figuring out her new signature. At the top of the sheet of paper she had done a number of her old "Sleap Drassy" signatures, and now at the bottom she was trying to figure out how to make "Sleap Jankels" look good. She couldn't. No matter how she tried it, it never even looked remotely correct. She'd just gotten married to Jean two weeks earlier, and had returned from their dizzying honeymoon that morning. She thought of Jean, who was taking a shower, as she kept writing "Sleap Jankels" over and over again. What was she doing with her life? It didn't matter, she thought. At this point, you have to go along with it for a few years, you made the choice, you said yes, you have to give it a chance. The doubts seemed perfectly natural to her. They didn't bother her. But Jean Jankels--there was something about him, a side of himself he revealed on the honeymoon, that... BASH! BASH! BASH! Sleap looked up, shocked. Someone was bashing the door down. She started to get up, but stopped, thinking better of it. BASH! BASH! Her mind was racing. KERASH! The door was down. She should run to Jean, warn him. Did he still have the gun from the honeymoon? She didn't know. She heard a man yelling orders. The door next to her was almost closed--she gently pushed it shut. She could hear the voices distinctly now. "The Helloid scanner's goin' nuts!" a husky voice roared. "In there!" a man with a deep voice yelled. "That's it!" a woman said. "It's in there!" She heard the bathroom door being kicked open. "It's in the shower! Babel, the Exorsault better be ready!" the husky voice yelled. "It is!" the woman yelled back. "Here goes!" the guy with the deep voice said. Then a sound came to Sleap ears which blew her mind apart. A shrieking wail, that made fingernails on a blackboard seem like a church bell. It was pure pain, pure horror. The shriek continued but it was joined by a weird sort of deep bubbling noise, eerie and pronounced. She couldn't believe that at some level she found these sounds enjoyable. After a few moments of these noises, which seemed really like forever, there was a dull pop, followed by the sound of liquid splattering on the bathroom floor. "One less demon," the husky voice said. What had happened? Was Jean being attacked by a monster and these people saved him? It seemed the logical explanation. Slowly, Sleap opened the door and peered out. An Asian man covered in equipment and reddish gooey stuff looked over at her. "Miss?" he said in his deep voice. Sleap stared at him, unable to move or speak. "What a mess!" she heard the husky voice say from the bathroom. "Better this one mess than the multitudes this guy would've slaughtered," the woman said. "You said it," the husky voice mumbled. The Asian man looked from his cohorts, back to Sleap, then back to his cohorts again. "Uh, guys. There's a lady out here." "Huh?" said the husky voice, as its owner came out of the bathroom, a large man with a full beard and mustache, likewise covered in equipment and gore. He regarded Sleap. "How were you related to that thing in the shower?" "What thing?" she asked. "The demon." "What about my husband?" The large man looked down. The woman came into view behind him. "The only thing in that shower was a demon," the woman said, a grim expression on her cute face, her long black hair fouled up with red junk. Sleap looked over at her desk and slowly nodded her head. "That would explain a lot," Sleap said dreamily. "Ma'am, we're sorry," the Asian man said. Sleap just looked at them, a complex expression on her face. Suddenly, a beeping sound started going off, and the large man looked at something on his wrist. "Demon attack at the Farzound Shopping Center!" he exclaimed. "Oh no!" the Asian man said. "How could they have found out? What if they..." "Come on! We have to get there fast!" the large man said, and the two men started running out. The woman started after them, then paused, and turned to face Sleap. "I know this must be terrible for you, and I wish we could stay, but the fate of the whole continent is at stake!" Sleap made a "yeah, right" kind of confused sneer. "Here--take our card. Give us a call if you need any help!" Sleap took the business card and nodded. "Have to get to that shopping center!" the woman said. Then the woman ran out, and the stench of the pile of demon remains started wafting across Sleap's nostrils. She looked down at the card. "Demonbane, Inc." it read. "There's no demonic problem we don't have the solution to!" Huh. Jean was a demon. She had married a demon. Now he was a pile of smelly guts on the bathroom floor. How did those jerks expect her to clean it up? Did she have to call the police? What about Jean's family--did he really have any? Or were they all demons too? Before she would think any more of the consequences of this event, she moved back to her desk and wrote her signature, "Sleap Drassy" in a large and undeniable manner across all the little attempts at "Sleap Jankels". Suddenly, a blast of hot air hit Sleap, and she looked over into her new bedroom. It was now full of smoke and lightning, with a horrible orange light visible in the distance. Slowly, three figures could be seen approaching through the mist. Somehow, Sleap was unfazed by this. Her apathy shocked her, as she stoically glanced at the approaching figures. Then a thought shot across her mind--act normal. Act like you should. Don't let them know. Don't let them know you're unimpressed. So she started acting. She got up and put her hands to her mouth in fear, as if she were trying to let out a scream but was too scared to. She moved toward the door, but it immediately slammed shut. Big surprise, she thought. The three figures were getting closer now. She regretted that she couldn't get a better look at them, as she was trying her best to seem panicked, banging on the door and crying for help. "Heretic," a cold, haywire, monstrous, calm voice shot out. She turned and sank to the floor, her back to the door, trying her best to sob uncontrollably. The three figures were in the room now. The main figure was a tall humanoid being, covered in levels of leather and chains, but a few openings around the face and hands suggested deerlike origins. The other two figures wore brown cloaks, and had deformed pitch-black faces partially visible. The three were still hovering as they approached Sleap. Don't let them know!, she continued to think. This is fantastic! What fun! At some level, she wondered why this should seem enjoyable. Really, it shouldn't. The central figure raised its hand and pointed a leather-clad finger toward Sleap. "Filthmate. I accuse you of heresy." Sleap looked up at the ridiculous creature, biting her tongue to keep herself from laughing. "Who... who are you?" she said, wishing it sounded more convincing. "I am Infernal Accuser Zefzec. You will accompany Infernal Hosts Slarb and Winti to Hell." "No!" she wailed out. But she let the Infernal Hosts approach her, each taking an arm. They lifted her up, and they all started hovering back into the rotten orange light. She felt exhilarated. As they drifted lightward, one of the hosts looked over at her. Yeah, maybe she had stopped her "being-frightened" act too soon, but it was too late for them. And she could have just gone into shock or something, that could explain to them her lack of fright. Going to Hell would be somewhat overwhelming for a normal person. But wasn't she normal? No. The special effects of the transfer to Hell were pretty good. Horrible sights, smells, and feelings. Pretty bad. Meant to beat even the most stalwart humans into senselessness and submissiveness. Sleap hardly batted an eyelash. To her, it was pathetic. Finally, they approached a plateau, where Infernal Jailors were waiting to take her into custody. She only had to be transferred into their hands and she could stop the charade. But she had to remain convincing until then, because the Hosts still had the power to take her back. Once in the hands of the Jailors, though, she could cut loose. This was a part of her that had been suppressed for a long time. But it felt good to have her true nature back. And she knew she'd enjoy her stay in Hell. The Accuser drifted to the Jailor and began conversing with him in an Infernal tongue. The hosts stopped well back, waiting for the sign. After a minute of two, the Accuser wiggled his thumb, and the Hosts approached. The Accuser turned. "Filthmate, you are hereby placed into the custody of Infernal Jailor Hamt." The Accuser drifted away, and the Hosts took Sleap forward to face the Jailor. The Jailor, a huge, horned monstrosity, grabbed Sleap's arms with two hands and slapped on restraints with two more. The hosts drifted away. Sleap was looking down, and felt the gaze of the Jailor upon her. Suddenly without warning, she looked up at the creature--a crazy, intense smile on her face. "Hey there Jailor Hamt! How ya doin' today!" The Jailor grunted and moved back. "Oh no ya don't!" Sleap said, walking forward, her bonds dropping to the ground with a clank. "I'm your charge. You're responsible for me. Right, boy?" "Emergency!" the Jailor bellowed. Sleap gestured with her right hand and the Jailor doubled over in pain. "You're correct, you little shit. I am a Looter. And I intend to suck this Hell dry before I'm done!" "E... emer... emergency..." the Jailor wailed with some effort. Sleap stretched her arms out and yawned a satisfying sigh. She thought of how glorious it would be dismantling this Hell piece by piece, packing it up, and selling it to the highest bidders. "Damn, this is fun!" she yelled. Forty-eight devils surrounded Sleap Drassy, forming the dread Unknowable Curse, a force beyond all reckoning. Sleap was bored. There was work to be done. "Don't feel bad," she said. "I've done a lot of Hells, and your powers are pretty impressive. You should be proud of yourselves." Suddenly, 18 satans hovered in a chaos-drive above Sleap, attempting to cut away her identity from 804 levels of existence deep. She felt it, but barely. This got her mad. "You fellows are quite talented, but this isn't a contest, it's a slaughter. Now be good little farm animals and learn!" With this, Sleap swung her left arm upward. Immediately, beyond-grotesque wails of the suffering Infernals filled the stale air. The devils were writhing in unbelievable pain on the ground, soon followed by a rain of falling satans. "Just come here!" Sleap said, annoyed. After a few moments, a Lord appeared a few yards in front of Sleap--a huge, stately, antlered beast--the number one guy--Lord Ac. He stared calmly at Sleap, smoke and little black balls pouring from his several sets of nostrils, a dull gray flame pulsating around his form. "Hi guy," Sleap said. Ac raised his huge arms, then folded them across his chest. "I assume you want my cooperation," the Lord said, sounding like distant thunder. "It would be nice. Taking your Hell apart and packing it up would be a lot quicker with the help of your sad little minions." Ac stared at Sleap, then blew a huge blast of smoke and balls. "You're so sure of yourself. So vastly more powerful than I. Proud Looter. Already planning to take our Heaven too, I assume." "I don't do Heavens. Too much whining." Ac stood still and silent. Sleap rolled her eyes. "Okay look!" she said, impatiently. "If you help, you're free. If not, you'll be sold into slavery like the rest. And I hope a Lord of your stature knows enough about us Looters to realize we keep our promises." "Oh yes," Ac said, a smile starting to form on his massive, crooked mouth. "I know about you. So cool--to prey on the predators. Put us in our place." Sleap frowned. "If the next two words out of your mouth aren't 'I accept', you're history. Though you'd fetch a high price as a slave, I'll obliterate you right here and now." "I..." Ac said, his smile widening. "Come on big boy. You can do it. And think, once you're free you can start building again--who knows--you could have a few good millennia before another Looter comes this way." "...will fuck you into ground meat and keep you alive like that for a hundred years--after that, I'll just be getting started!" "Like, wrong answer," Sleap said, making a fist, and fully expecting Ac to be a smoldering smear of protoplasm the next instant. It didn't happen. "Hahaha--prey on the predator--so cool," the Lord rumbled. "I know how it feels to be so much bigger, and now so much smaller, compared to the glory of you. Maybe you might feel small sometime. Maybe that sometime is..." Sleap's expression turned to worried, as the hot Hell all around her silently shattered away, replaced by a featureless white void. "You are now the prey, Looter," she heard the voice of Lord Ac say. "When you chose my Hell to ravage, you chose the wrong Hell. For I am in contact with the Infernal Voc-4-Iopa-9den." "Huh?" "You, my friend," Ac said, "will be a fine addition to the Infernal Voc-4-Iopa-9den's Looter Zoo. And here the one is." Sleap got a sinking feeling. She had long had suspicions of entities more powerful than her kind, but she never expected to encounter one. Now... Voc-4-Iopa-9den came into view, all around Sleap as she floated in the white void, coming from at least 14 dimensions at once. At first Sleap was absolutely dizzied and zonked by the sight, but soon, a familiar feeling came to her. She was unimpressed. She yawned. And yet again, she became aware of more and more of herself. She had plans for this Voc-4-Iopa-9den, and the ultimate prize was at hand. But she had to act normal--act like a Looter facing the impossibility of a massively more powerful thing. So she expressed her force, emanating energies which could easily have annihilated the grandest of gods, rising ever more, beyond the point any of her kind would ever have dared, for fear of erasing all of everything. But still she was getting nowhere. Voc-4-Iopa-9den was coagulating into something vaguely understandable, but to Sleap, the hyper-ultra-inconceivable thing before her was laughable. Ac spoke. "Perceive the impossible, Looter!" Voc-4-Iopa-9den, definitely more violet than not, somewhat tall and vertical, maybe an arm, maybe a face somewhere, communicated. "Precious little Looter, you made the bad choice in Ac's Hell, you see." "I've lived by the sword, so now I'll die by the sword. Fair is fair." "Spoken like a true Looter. Like all the others in my Looter Zoo. Kmy-7zy-holp3a has a place for you." Sleap felt energies moving her way, tearing her apart across innumerable axes, transporting her in unlikely ways. It kind of tickled. Suddenly, she was in a cage in a strangely-lit void. She could maybe see some more cages in the distance. "Your friend Ac has been rewarded," Sleap heard Voc-4-Iopa-9den say, though the entity wasn't visible. "You, little Sleap, are quite a prize. The four quintillionth Looter in Zoo. Now I can sell Zoo and get that which I desire." "Whatever," Sleap said. She was slowly getting some idea of what this was all about. She was after something. Voc-4-Iopa-9den would trade her, along with the other 3,999,999,999,999,999,999 Looters, to some other entity, and it was there that she would find what she desired. What a plan, what a fucking plan. It was just dawning on her how much time she'd spent planning this. "Trade-ingo," Voc-4-Iopa-9den said, coming into view briefly. What followed was a timeless period of hemi-reality, followed by several ages of confusion and anti-nothingness. Finally, there was some semblance of graspable reality, and Sleap found she was still in the cage, but with nothing visible outside. No blackness, no whiteness, nothing. Her eyes were open, but absolutely nothing could be seen beyond her cage. She made the heact and rose into her fullness. Resplendent to be full again. And here, in this place. Plan, yeah it was about 900,000 years in the making, so what. She was herself and here in this place, where a Zoo of 4 quintillion Looters was a minor artifact. And out of the 222 octillion artifacts here, but one interested her. She grasped it. The other entity here, Kmy-7zy-holp3a, screamed in a way only such a thing could scream. She communicated with it as best she could. To her now, it was as a barking dog, this entity so high a Looterkin could have never imagined. She held it at bay without as much as a thought. And she took the object. She had it. Finally. After so long. She had it. Everything was so clear, of course, everything was laid out before her. And she understood. Oh yes--she understood. And she was happy. And she returned to Earth. Back in her apartment, Sleap briefly regarded the putrid remains of Jean Jankels, and then snapped her fingers, going back in time a few years. And she strode triumphantly into the living room, setting her prize on a little table. She picked up the phone and dialed it. It rang a few times. "Hello?" Tavmatey Numblem said from the other end of the line. "Hi," answered Sleap. "I have the coffee." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 7: HONEYSUCKLE ROVER CHAPTER 3 SR-066 ============================== 07.3--Quile ============================== Quile Mightnarish needed no fanfare as she slammed the door open and stepped severely into the office. "Me! Choose me! Choose me choose me choose me choose me choose me choose me! Me me me!" a high-pitched voice wailed, from the TV-like theatercatten. Looking at it, Quile saw the cartoon character Kokle Pest in a frenzy, apparently yearning to be chosen for a scientific experiment of some kind. Quile Mightnarish, a 30-year-old woman with long curly black hair--somewhat unkempt! And a bit greasy looking--her face, a bit sharp--a bigger nose and weird, staring, intense expression made her look foreign, but did seem to inspire comfort in others. It seemed, to those around her, that she knew basically what was going on, and that--even if she didn't--then there wasn't much use in knowing. Not too tall--5'2", 5'3"--she was on the train. Sitting at her vestibule, she worked with her papers as the train rocked back and forth, speeding forward, in the stark noonlight. She felt as if she were dancing with her papers, at times. The train was heading thru a desolate part of the country these days--or a park of the country--or a parse of the country--or a--rocky, grassy, rivers of the white opaque liquid, ch!emderdapen. Living on the train wasn't so bad--but the job, at Jiobel--the job was OK--but somewhat--Uh--pointless--doing paper--that was all. It took skill, but she felt perhaps her talents were being wasted. No, not perhaps--but definitely--her talents were really being wasted. But she felt sort of calm, these days were easy--with pals at work and such--and the constant rocking of the immense train--and she really couldn't think of anything else good to do. She knew her body--a bit scrawny--not much of a chest to speak of--bony. Feeling forlorn for want of male companionship had passed awhileago--she sort of felt neutral on the subject. She had had lovers in the past--but not too recently--not for two years. At no time was she overly distraught or depressed over the situation. She enjoyed masturbating when the fancy struck her--which was fairly infrequently--there in her small quadrate on her bunk--she would do it--and... and... sort of feel as if she were making love with herself, the train, and God at the same time. She envisioned God as a tall, muscular, athletic woman with noble looks--solid limbs--big breasts--power. She had vague lesbian tendencies in her fantasies--mostly just dealing with the specific physical features of a tall, strong woman with big breasts, such as God. She never really considered making it with a girl--though she had been propositioned on quite a few occasions by lesbians--and there was a very cute one at the place she had worked before working here on the train. It was on unmoving ground, and this girl was sexy, no doubt, but Quile only imagined having sex with this girl in passing--and never really took the idea too seriously! She considered--if it were just pure physical sex--without knowing the woman before or after--just for a pleasurable eroticism--then, theoretically, perhaps. But the idea of having to deal with another girl as a lover was quite repulsive to her. She found that most women--herself included--could be real pains in the asses in romantic situations. But this cute girl--Tavmatey Numblem--"Tav" for short, of course--the thing that happened is one worth relating here. What happened was, at this job--the job at Belakzle--Quile had a friend--another female friend--called Sleap Drassy. Now, just before Quile quit, Sleap came over to her house and revealed that Tavmatey had seduced and ravaged her that weekend--and that she didn't know what to do. She thought she might be in love with Tav. So Sleap said, that as Tav did a certain thing to her, she felt as if she were floating thru a grand majestic outer space, that it was the most pleasurable feeling ever. Quile listened to the ceaseless description of this graphic lesbianism, mostly grossed-out--but subtly fascinated, shocked, and excited--and even a little envious, in a deep dark layer of her mind. She consoled Sleap in a generic fashion, told her everything would be OK, watched some theatercatten with her, and felt relieved when she finally left. That was the last time she'd seen Sleap, since she got a job on this train and moved onto it soon afterward, just a few days after seeing Sleap, actually. Then 6 or 8 months afterward she got a letter from Sleap, saying that she saw Tav and made love to her several more times--but that Tav pressured Sleap into performing an act she didn't want to do. But she did, and she said in the letter she didn't like it at all and she broke up with Tav. She said in the letter, she had somehow started seeing a 50-year-old professional mountain-climber woman, who she said looked only about 30. She said the sex was good--but not as good as the best of the sex with Tav. Quile was amused by the letter--but never got around to answering it. The idea that Sleap had become a full-fledged lesbian did disturb Quile--years earlier everyone pointed out how similar Sleap and Quile were--like sisters or soulmates. Quile hoped the similarities had ceased--for she did not desire that lifestyle. And yet, several times a week Quile would think of Tav and get a tug at her heart and a flash in her groin, very briefly--too insignificant to even consider. Well now, Quile often fantasized, when she was masturbating, about God's breasts. Large, firm, perfectly shaped. She reasoned, the cause of her finding God's breasts so erotic was that she desired big breasts--not so much consciously--more like subconsciously. She often commented that big breasts were no more than toys for men, beverage containers for babies, and logistic hassles. But really she wanted them. She did she did. She did she did. She most certainly did, I guess. She irrationally felt that large breasts were analogous with power, and that part of the reason she was living such a low-excitement-level, ratherdreary life was because she wasn't powerful because her breasts were so small--almost not there at all. As she sucked God's breasts in these fantasies, she imagined also warm milk coming out of the nipples, flowing smoothly down her throat, into her stomach, and then coursing thru her veins--power. And this milk nourishes her, empowers her, makes her breasts grow--in a painful instant expansion, to the size of God's pair--maybe even a little bigger--as if God had come to Her senses and realized that in reality, Quile is more powerful than even Her. Ah, these fantasies. All this in masturbation--and the pounding pummeling throb of the massive train as it screeched and tore its way forth. God and the train seemed to be different aspects of the same primal force--the same primal power--the same primal scream. And she felt secure in the safe scrotum of her metal lover--or was that the safe arms?--inside the warm embrace of the train--herself, train, and God as one. Sometimes she would swallow the narcotic "hallway"--which came in clumps and had the consistency of dry mud, and an earthy, spicy taste. With it, her fantasies seemed to be exceedingly real. Too real. Too real--the tracings of her tongue and lips over God's lithe form--so real--sensual. Here on the train, Quile felt as if every inch of the train's forward motion in its momentum erased part of her past--that she had nothing left outside of the train. At times, Quile thought her life was fascinating and involved and... challenging. She drew occasionally--won a few art contests as a child--drew funny pictures at work for her co-workers--et cetera. Abzarby! The word for wanderlust in her country. She had it. What was happening. What was happening to Quile. Where was Sleap Drassy. Where was Tavmatey Numblem. Not on the big train. Quile was startled out of her dreamy thoughts by the crash of the office door exploding open. Someone jumped into the room--it all happened very fast. A woman--a woman with a huge mop of hair, a dirty T-shirt, and a crossbow. The intruder stood there, silent for a few moments as Quile's co-workers started to shrink back. Then the woman spoke. "Is there a Quile here?" Quile swallowed hard. Her jaw trembling, she slowly stood up. "Me," she said with difficulty. The woman strode forward in a casual manner and extended her hand to Quile. "How're you?" the woman said, grasping Quile's unsure hand and shaking it. "I'm Liss, and we really gotta get you outta here." "O-okay," Quile said. Liss didn't let go of Quile's hand, but instead grasped it harder and started pulling her out the door. Her boss, Mr. Pulo, objected. "You think you're doing this, Quile?" But Quile ignored him as Liss tugged her out of the place of work. And Quile knew--she was certain--that she'd never go back to work there. And she'd never empty out her desk, never get any of that stuff, and it was like dropping a heavy bag you've been carrying for too long; it was good. "Um," Quile said as Liss released her hand as they walked toward the central corridor of the train car, "glad to meet you, Liss." Liss turned to look at her, hair totally covering one eye. "These giant trains are fucking amazing." Quile was a little puzzled, but replied "I think so." Liss nodded. "First off, first thing you gotta know, I'm a free agent. Sleap ain't got nothing on me." "Sleap?" Quile asked shakily, getting butterflies in her stomach, this couldn't be the mountain climber, could it? Liss sighed as they turned a corner and entered the central corridor. "Yup. Sleap. Sleap Drassy. The girl who thinks she can do what Fox couldn't do." "What's that?" "To destroy the universe," Liss said with a shrug. Quile raised an eyebrow. "You're wondering if I'm part of the whole Sleap-Tavmatey lesbian thing. You desperately want to try it, I can see that, Quile. I saw you looking at my tits before. Well, let me tell you, I go both ways. Steady diet of pussy and dick. I'm a fucking runaway train, but I gotta get you outta here. I swear, you're a fucking miserable fuck." Quile frowned. "Don't take offense," Liss said. "I'm not saying you're an asshole, just that you're pathetic. But I like you, that's why I'm saving you. Though if you wanna bed me, you gotta promise you won't get all emotional. Can't stand that." Quile was wide-eyed and took a deep breath. They were waiting in line for the monorail that ran up and down the length of the train. "A monorail inside the train," Liss said, smiling and shaking her head. "Gotta love it." "Where are we going?" "Back to my room," Liss said with a suggesting expression. Quile felt her heart melting, her world swimming. In that moment she was totally in love with Liss. Totally needed Liss. Somewhere in the back of her mind there was a rational self screaming to be heard, but the screams were hopelessly muffled in the fertile hillside of the promise of freedom and sex with another woman. "Touch my breast," Liss said. Quile started to protest, but Liss cut her off and said emphatically "In public." Quile smiled, let herself slip further into the moment, and gingerly reached out and put her yearning fingers on Liss's left breasts, sensitively feeling the fabric of the dirty white T-shirt. Then Liss grabbed Quile's hand and pushed it hard into her breast. Then she moved forward and touched her forehead to Quile's forehead. In a heavy whisper, she said "You need very badly to be fucked by someone who knows a little about fucking." Quile stared into Liss's eyes with an innocent wonder. The monorial arrived and Liss turned around, breaking off the magical contact. "Let's go," Liss said brusquely. Quile followed her into the monorail, sitting next to her. "There's a lot going on, Quile," Liss said softly, staring forward. "But you gotta wake up, break out of your fucking shell. I can help you there, where you need to go, but you have to admit a lot of things to yourself before you can really move on with things." "God..." Quile whispered. Quile woke up in the hotel room that Liss had taken her to the day before. The train was stopped. Liss was asleep next to her, and they were both naked. Liss had transformed Quile. Made love to her, taught her many of the secrets of the universe, fed her incredible foods and drinks and drugs. It was like Liss was scrubbing the filthiness of her mundane life off of her. Quile knew that without Liss, she would never have escaped her crummy little life. But now, with Liss, things were suddenly so different... Still, there was that terrible sense that such a new feeling of hope is fragile, and putting too much faith in that hope would risk the pain of losing it as quickly as it came. Yes, that fear was there, but so much had happened already that she could never go back to the way she was before. "We have to travel to other worlds today," Liss said, without opening her eyes or stirring at all. "I would love to do that," Quile responded, then cleared her throat. Ahem! "We're in virgin territory here," Liss said. "The universe is in pretty bad shape, and it's never been like this before. Sleap could blow it all to kingdom come, if you see what I mean. I don't wanna try to stop her. Fuck, it wouldn't do much good anyway. Time is not linear, I don't think, so if she's gonna do it, I think that maybe she already did it, just we haven't gotten there yet." "But we can still do something," Quile said, turning onto her side, propping her head on her hand, elbow on the bed, and staring at Liss's face, whose eyes were still closed, hard to tell cuz her hair was so over 'em. "I had this idea that everyone is God. That's why we're all so similar, we're all the same person--God," Liss said, and then opened her eyes and swept her hair away from her face. She stared at the ceiling and didn't even glance at Quile. But their legs were touching and Quile stroked her leg against Liss's. "Do you know that one time I pulled this stunt?" Liss said, "I was publishing this fanzine on this world, and they arrested me and took me to court to censor me. Well I took it for about an hour then I stood up and started yelling at the judge. He fucking tried to ream me out, telling me he was gonna find me in contempt of court and all this garbage, and then I smahed the table and started smashing the whole place up, see? I went INSANE." "They tried to stop me," Liss said, " but I was too strong. I was trashing everything. I tried not to hurt the police too much, right? I told 'em to get everyone out of there cuz the place was coming down. I said I had to demolish the whole building, by hand, right, like on the matter of principle, right, like because of the unfairness of the trial and everything. So I wrecked the placed, tore it to the ground. And I was tired afterwards! So the dummies like arrested me and threw me in jail and I slept like a baby cuz I was so wiped out from what I did, right. So the next morning I get up and yank out the bars of my cell and fucking go right up to the guard and say I'm gonna wreck the jail cuz they put me in it and the guy said like fuck you and tried to beat me up, and I threw him into a wall and said I don't want to hurt anybody but I just have to blow the jail to hell. Well, they weren't happy but they got movin' when I started to do the deed. I fucking wrecked the place. It was fun, the funnest, to demolish a jail." "Wow," Quile said, putting her hand on Liss's waist. Liss remained motionless, and kept on staring at the ceiling. "So like, after it, after I did it, I just go home to my apartment, and they follow me and shit, they're scared of me by now. And there are these two fat fucks in a car outside my apartment building, watching me and shit, and so I go down and tell 'em to get out of the car, and they take their coffe cups and their freakin' clipboards and get out, all nicely and stuff, and I wreck the car. They just look at me and nod and say like they didn't even want to do it but their boss made them and they went off to find a phone. It was fucking unreal." Then Liss looked over and locked eyes with Quile. "Did I tell you about my friend Reed Lehigh?" Liss said, and Quile shook her head. "He's a nut. He moved. And he had two trucks, and he got this idea in his head that he was gonna drive one truck across the country, then take a plane back and drive the other one! I said, come on, I'll help you out, I'll drive the other truck for you! But he described how cool it would be, stopping at all these places along the way, and then like a week later stop at all the other places. It was just in the way he described it, it sounded like he was gonna enjoy it, like really enjoy it. Reed Lehigh is the best." Then Liss got on top of Quile in a swift motion, and kissed her hard. "There are these little rubber balls filled with ball bearings," Liss whispered heavily, "and you wail 'em, you throw 'em into the soft clay, and they bore in so much. Then these poor people try and get 'em out. They go through hell getting them out, but I didn't feel bad about it, cuz it occupies their time and when they're done they have something that has some value." Then the two made love. * * * Liss was wearing a straw "Vaudeville singer" hat, smoking a cigar and sprinkling ginger beer all over the steaming hot lava. "Why a volcano?" Quile asked. "Gotta start somewhere, kid," Liss answered, smiling. Earlier, Liss has used her crossbow to blast a hole in reality, and they came to this other world, by a volcano. "So we're really just waiting," Quile said after time. Liss blew a smoke ring and said "We are in the past. Our being here proves it. Therefore we have a golden opportunity." "Are there any people here, on this world?" Quile asked. "I think so." "Will we meet them?" "Why, thinking of a threesome so soon?" "No." "You are, kid. You are." "No." "Well," Liss said, surveying her work--barely perceptible ginger beer stains on the lava, "here's the deal. If we ARE all God, all the same person, then when this universe collapses, we'll all the the same person again. But I LIKE being me. I like being Liss. I don't want to evaporate, be forgotten like a fading dream." "How do you know what you know?" Liss stared at Quile. "I know what I know. If you mean I might be wrong, sure. I'm not omniscient, and even if I was I couldn't be sure of it. I wanna keep on going, I like the challenges that limitations gift me." "So we are going to make a shelter... and populate it... and it will withstand the end of everything else." "I'm sure I have it in me. And with your help, I'm pretty sure we can do it." "Why?" "Because I'm like Sleap. You're like Sleap. We have it in us. We are among the most powerful people anywhere." "Why is all this happening?" "Daptin Gone, that guy I told you about, was there when all this was first created. He was a barely-sentient pinecone, but he was there. But what almost no one knows is that there was a time that preceded the creation, a few times actually. See, Daptin was a pine tree in the VERY FIRST one, the absolutely primal place. By the time of the creation of the universe as we know it, some guy involved, a prime mover in the creation, he had a pinecone from Daptin as tree, see? It was a mistake, or maybe not. So these guys, they made all these grand plans, but Daptin was there. And, haha, even as a pinecone, even barely conscious, he had PRIMACY over them. He was EARLIER than them. Get it? The earlier you are, the more PRIME you are. So Daptin wrecked their plans, as was his RIGHT to do." "So then he's more powerful than Sleap. So why did he let her kick him out of his Land?" "Ah, come on. Daptin is all screwed up. He doesn't know if he's coming or going. That's why Sleap wanted to use him. Sleap knew the truth about him." "So can't we help Daptin help himself?" "Look lover, that's an IF. We MIGHT be able to help Daptin, but I don't think it would work in the long run. I think that Sleap will have her way. She wants to pierce Gnoboslast, and she wants to soon. I want to survive." "What IS outside of Gnoboslast?" "A place that no one in here can ever know about. That Which Lies Outside." "So what's our next move, lover?" Liss smiled at that. "Any puzzling agrarian psychic war will do." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 7: HONEYSUCKLE ROVER CUPLINE'S END ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 8: IRREGULAR SHIRT 19 Chapters--SR-067 thru SR-085 ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 8: IRREGULAR SHIRT CHAPTER 1 SR-067 ============================== SRis001--"Suffocating the Dean" ============================== "Walt, are we goin' out in the woods to see about that suffocating the Dean thing or what?" Roy O'Damn asked his roommate, Walter Mota, as they entered the lounge on the fifth floor of Spoin Hall, a dorm at Thatterine College. "Yeah okay, but I just wanna see a little of the Johnny Pitch videos in a few minutes. Y'know." "Look, I'm not sitting around here watching any queer Johnny Pitch cartoons or whatever. Let's get goin', for cryin' out loud." "Hey Roy," the nerdy Thinki Hamilton said. "Johnny Pitch isn't a cartoon! It's moody and idiosyncratic black-and-white television series from Boolevathers, some fifteen years old." "Thinki, have you ever touched a girl? Besides your mother, that is," Roy asked. Thinki just muttered "hmm" and turned away, uncommunicative. "I've seen the show before," Walt said. "It's pretty good." "Yeah right," Roy said. "Just cuz Brine and Loblolly have a million posters of it in their room you think it must be cool to like it." "But Roy," Doug Brine said, "coming from Boolevathers, it's probably a milliard, not a million." "Brine, you know, I'd love to annihilate your cranium with a cinder block one of these days," said Roy. "Sounds good to me!" Brine said goofily. "Check with my secretary and make an appointment." Roy sat down and said "Fuck". "Geez Roy, why don't you ever let us enjoy Johnny Pitch night?" the pretty Janice Pawn asked. "Janice. There was only one other Johnny Pitch night, and that was three days ago. What's the matter with you people, you need a Johnny Pitch fix every friggin' day?" Roy asked. "I think in the next episode Darkfreen the Ultra Warlock is going to capture Miss Brandy Finesphere," Thinki said. "Thinki, let me use my Ultra Warlock powers for a minute--I see you jerking off to a nude picture of Johnny Pitch. Am I right?" Roy said. "No Roy, you--" Janice cut in. "--oh, you're the one who jerks off to it?" Roy asked. "Be kind of hard for me to jerk off," Janice said. "Why's that?" Walt asked. "She has nothing to jerk!" Doug said, shrugging foolishly. "Well, for girls it's more like... stroking off," Roy said. "Honestly, you males are impossible," Janice said. "Honestly you males are impossible," Roy said jeeringly, imitating Janice, just as Kathy Zebruary was walking in. "I see Roy's coming out of the closet," Kathy said. "I'll come out of your closet any day, Zebs, but I'd rather come inside it," Roy said. "Very funny," Kathy replied. "So where's Noaster with the tapes?" Janice asked. "He's not back from dinner yet, I don't think," Kathy answered. "Hey Thinki. Thinki," Walt said. "Yeah?" "Is this the one with that Dennis Accident guy?" "I... I think so. I think it's in the next one or the one after that." "Come on Hamilton," Roy said, "get your Johnny Pitch straight. There'll be a quiz later." "No Roy, look. This Dennis Accident is really excellent," Walt said. "He's like this living car accident. Like, there was a head-on collision between a van and a station wagon, and one of the people on board was a powerful psychic, and he was able to animate the wreckage and the bodies, so he's like this huge giant guy that shambles around with these dead people inside him and stuff. It's really cool." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 8: IRREGULAR SHIRT CHAPTER 2 SR-068 ============================== SRis002--"The Dorm Odor Identification Kit" ============================== "Now THAT I could get into," Roy said. "No one said you were invited to watch," Kathy responded. "Uh oh, I'll have to go back to my room and put on my totally pathetic loser costume to gain admittance," Roy said. "I thought that's what you wore all the time," Kathy said. "Only in front of you, so you aren't suddenly struck with irresistible lust and rip your clothes off and molest me from seeing my true irresistible self." "That'll be the day," Kathy said. "That's right," Roy said. "It'll be Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday..." "Ha! Dream on!" Kathy said. "Ouch! The queen of comebacks strikes a lethal blow," Roy said. "You better be careful Roy, you'll use up all your radio material," Janice said. "That's why I'm keeping quiet, to preserve my comedy reserves," Walt said. "I liked what you did last week," Thinki said, turning to Walt and Roy. "Ha ha. What was it. 'Introducing the greatest discovery of all time for miffed and bewildered college students, The Dorm Odor Identification Kit. Yes, for only $19.99 you too can identify all those mysterious and noisome fragrances which permeate your college life. For example, say you're visiting the Jogsop Hall basement and..." "What are you, a frickin' tape recorder, Hamilton? Why is it that only total geeks have photographic memories?" Roy asked. "I have a photographic memory," Janice said. "No Janice, you have photographic MAMMARIES. You have to learn the difference, see," Roy said. "Wouldn't you like to photograph 'em," Janice said. "Huh? What'd you say? Yes, of course I'd like to snatch a few snapshots of your lascivious pink orbs. What a silly question," Roy said. "Well you know what they say, ask a silly question, get a mindless, sexist answer," Janice said. "Ouch," Roy said. "You know, you'd be a lot more attractive and more funny if you were more low key like Walt--and less of a blowhard, preening, testosterone bully," Kathy said. "But the sad fact is that you'd wind in bed with him long before you'd ever go for me," Walt said. "Well, um, I..." Kathy stumbled. "See, at least Walt knows the way it is," Roy stated. "The personality has very little to do with it. It's the looks alone which make up 90% of an attraction." "Yeah, and..." Walt began. "Walt's not that bad looking," Kathy said. "No, but I'M not bad looking at all," Roy said. Doug picked up Thinki's thick eyeglasses and put them on. "On the other hand, I'm REAL bad looking," Doug said, staring through the glasses in an exaggerated way. "Hey give those back!" Thinki yelled, flailing his arms toward Doug. Doug held up his arms in defense. "Okay! Okay! Chill out," Doug said as he gave Thinki the glasses back. "You know, I could never figure out why they refer to glasses in the plural," Walt said. "I mean it's just one object. It's like, is every object with two parts considered plural?" "You know Walt," Roy said. "I hope you're not practicing material for the radio, cuz you're really grasping for straws here." "Oh don't blame me. I'm still a bit tipsy from that glass of soy sauce I drank at dinner." "You really drank a glass of soy sauce? I thought you were just kidding about that," Kathy said. "Well, he drank about a third of a glass, but that's still pretty good. I guess," Doug said. "Oh great, go ahead and cut me down in front of the ladies," Walt said. "Oh yeah," Janice said. "I would have jumped right in the sack with you Walt, if only you'd drank a full glass." "Hey, maybe I was just practicing," Walt said. "What's your blood pressure now, like five over a googolplex or something?" Doug asked. "See Walt, now that's funny. You better watch out or I'll replace you with Brine," Roy said. "Oh yeah, like you have the right to replace me." "If you use that line on the radio you better give me credit," Doug said. "Yeah I'll give you credit--I won't play the tapes of that wet dream of yours we recorded," Roy said. "Duh," Doug said. "Like you really did that." "Just watch yourself or you might find out," Roy said. "Duh," Doug said. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 8: IRREGULAR SHIRT CHAPTER 3 SR-069 ============================== SRis003--"Episode Five" ============================== Just then Yonder Caoden came in, wearing a black outfit with a cape, and lots of silver witchcraft jewelry. "Uh, Yonder, I think you're a little confused. The costume ball was during orientation," Roy said. "Oh damn," Yonder said. "Hey Roy, is the reason you're named O'Damn because when you're doing it you go 'ahhh ahhhh ahhhh--oh damn--not yet!'?" Kathy asked. "Well--" Roy began, but Doug cut in. "Let me get this one Roy--it's 'Well, there only one way to find out!'--right Roy?" Doug said. "This guy's pretty swift Walt, you better watch out. Brine & O'Damn might be the next big thing," Roy said. "Yup. O'Damn & Mota could be a thing of the past." "Soy sauce," Walt said. "So where's Noaster with the tapes?" Yonder asked. "He's, uh, he's still at dinner. We think," Doug said. "I may still be at dinner, but here I am," Noaster Sitar said as he entered the room with a handful of Johnny Pitch tapes. His weird hair was weirder than usual. "Yay!" Yonder said. Noaster sat down on a couch. "So, everyone here?" Noaster asked. "I think Tanner and Lucid wanted to come. And maybe your roommate," Janice said. "Well I'll set it up, so why don't you go get them Janice," Noaster said. "Okay," Janice said, leaving the lounge. "Well Walt, whattaya say old buddy old pal? Can we blow this living advertisement for birth control or what?" Roy asked. "Don't you wanna see that accident character?" Walt said. "Dennis Accident, the shambling horror of a highway," Thinki said. "I'd love to see this accident fellow, but Walt, the key word here is 'tapes'. We can watch it anytime. Why don't we just ask Noaster to mark down the part of the tape the accident man is on, and we can see it later," Roy said. "But then we won't know what's going on, plotwise," Walt said. "I couldn't give one sparrow's beak about the plot, Walt. Now can we go?" "Ohhhhh-kay," Walt said, getting up. "Drink some more soy sauce next time so you can resist your friend's hypnotic powers," Kathy said. "I'll do that," Walt said. "Say goodbye to the nice children," Roy said. "Bye," Walt said. "No Walt, you're supposed to say 'goodbye to the nice children'," Doug said. "Oh," Walt said, being dragged out of the room by Roy. Out in the stairwell Roy could be heard yelling "Johnny Pitch is for fags! Johnny Pitch is for fags!" "If I had to listen to Roy for another minute I think I'd explode," Kathy said. "Hyup," Doug said. Then Janice came in with Tanner Loblolly, Washington Loggats, and Lucid Geode. "Well shall we get started then?" Noaster asked. "Sure," Kathy responded. "Alright I'll start it now," Noaster said, beginning the videotape. "Now this is the next episode from where we left off. Hopefully we can do the next four episodes tonight." Washington turned the lights out, and the Johnny Pitch tape began. The title sequence started suddenly, with a voice exclaiming "Johnny Pitch!" in unison with a logo zooming in toward the screen. There followed a cool theme song alongside credits and scenes from the show. This was "Episode Five: Dark Focal Point". The scene faded in. Johnny Pitch turned up the collar of his trenchcoat and looked down the foggy street from under a streetlamp. Footsteps echoed towards him... -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 8: IRREGULAR SHIRT CHAPTER 4 SR-070 ============================== SRis004--"Freezing Air Felt Good" ============================== Doug Brine here. A few days ago I was lounging around my dorm room at college and wasting time, as usual. The obscure music I was listening to got me thinking about stupid things and made me fall into a very weird state of mind. But then restlessness got the best of me and I left. I was halfway down the hall before I realized that I'd forgotten my coat. Walking back to my room, I felt momentarily lightheaded--and some people were yelling in the room next to mine--but I ignored them as I got my coat. Seconds later, as I was ambling down the stairs, I traced arcane symbols on the wall with my left ring finger. I wondered vaguely as to why I was doing this, and the next several steps were a whizzing blur as I blammed out into the stinging chill of the night. Distant music booming from windows stirred tribal feelings deep within my breast as I stepped upon the lawn and set my way towards the student center. The freezing air felt good on my face, exciting in my lungs. I pretended that I was a vast king, and that the college was my kingdom. I saw some girls over on the walkway and they were my concubines. I came upon the pavement then. The old violin then came to mind as I headed down the road. It was in my attic at home, and I thought about how I could play it at a virtuoso level of expertise, even though I had never taken a lesson in my life. No one else knew, and I feared revealing my talent to anyone, dreading being referred to as an idiot savant, or other such oddity. I was just born with the ability, I suppose, whatever sense that makes. Well, as I continued on, I saw a goldenrod-colored flyer on a telephone pole up the street a ways, and even though I couldn't read it from that distance, it brought to mind when I had seen it the day before, and I recalled what this flyer had said: "Open Microphone Talent Competition! All welcome. At the Farthuat Hall 'Basement Cabaret'! 9:30 pm, Tuesday the 8th. Be there man!" I looked at my watch and it said 7:19 pm. And I knew it was the 8th. I thought maybe I'd go see it, but then I had an inspiration--that girl from astronomy class would be there--and I could impress her with my violin playing. "Now there's an idea!", I thought. (This damn girl--Harbaza Turn--I only talked to her a few times--but I really think I love her (besides having the hots for her).) So I continued on my merry way, and I quickly calculated how I could get home, get the violin, tune it, and get back in time for the show. Harbaza did mention that she liked classical music. And, I thought, I can play anything at all, as long as I've heard it once. Maybe some Steill, or a Mophei symphony, or perhaps a Viedden overture. The selection that I would play was not a problem. But getting there and back, to my house, was a possible problem. I considered the train, but a little quick figuring revealed that the schedules were against me and that I couldn't get back onto campus until 10:10 pm or so. I guessed that I might have gotten one of my friends to drive me, but I honestly didn't have a clue as to where anyone was, and I wasn't really very clear on who had a car on campus and who didn't. One thing was for sure--I couldn't walk. But... a bicycle? There was a bicycle leaning next to a tree by the sidewalk in front of me. With that bicycle, I could make the violin run with time to spare. But--could I just take it? I looked around, looking for anyone who might have owned the bike, but nobody was in sight. I reasoned, if I took the bike and returned it two hours later, then it couldn't really be considered stealing of any sort; it would just be a kind of "enforced borrowing". In indecision, I just stopped and started moping around the vicinity of the bike, trying to make up my mind, butterflies injected into my stomach. I kept looking around nervously, and I thought of this girl Harbaza. I thought, "Does that name mean 'florid one'? Maybe she will have sex with me if she likes my violin playing." With my resolve then set, I nonchalantly walked up to the bike, grabbed the handlebars, looked around nervously, stood it up, and started walking it towards the street. Suddenly I heard someone yell "Hey!" from behind me, and I froze in fear for a second, but then I continued walking. The shout must have come from down by the dorms, nowhere near me. I hit the street and walked the bike, trying to look as casual as possible. As I stared at the blunt incandescent focuses of light that were the streetlamps, I fantasized about what would happen if I was caught in this act of theft--maybe being beaten up or killed or something. But then I broke out of this pointless conjecture, got a running start, jumped onto the bike, and was off on a 45-minute journey home. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 8: IRREGULAR SHIRT CHAPTER 5 SR-071 ============================== SRis005--"No Bikes" ============================== Riding through the streets, it looked like the citizens of this seaport town, Mav Saptax, were out in droves to catch a glimpse of that comet which was supposedly going to come by. I ignored these ignorant average fools and sped my way on towards the highway. Twice I was forced to stop after coming upon a car accident. I wondered what the hell was wrong with these stupid people. Finally I got to the highway, and was a bit surprised when I saw the sign reading "No Bikes, $300 fine". I stopped and looked around incredulously and said "Fuck" as I shook my head. Just standing there for half a minute, I was deciding what to do. But the image of Harbaza's tits pressing against her tight sweater made me say "Well, fuck goddam $300." And I went onto the highway. The highway was well-lit, and the traffic wasn't very heavy, but not 5 minutes later I ran over some broken glass, and both tires went flat. I skidded to a halt, cursed loudly, and threw the bike into the tall grass by the road. "It's hitchhiking, I guess.", I thought to myself, realizing dumbly that I would probably be killed. I started walking, but then I had a stupid thought, "what if they find the bike and take fingerprints?" So, knowing it was moronic, I went back, and wiped off the bike everywhere I had touched it, with the sleeve of my jacket. "Fuck", I thought as I was performing this stupid act. So I said "what the hell", and started hitchhiking, holding my thumb out, walking backwards. After about a minute of freezing time, a big brown pickup truck went by and honked its horn. I turned to watch it as it passed, and it slowed down and stopped by the side of the road. Immediately I walked towards it, and went up to the passenger door. I noticed a bizarre picture painted on the door, some sort of a crazy little guy sideways against a checkered background. Looking at it made me dizzy. But then the door opened, and I saw a middle-aged guy, with a cigarette in his hand, and a short hairstyle that hadn't been "in" for fifteen years. "Where ya goin' fella?" he asked me. "Uh, I gotta go to over to Donavan Bends," I said. "Yeah? I'm goin' that way. Get in." "Hey thanks." So I got in. Apparently the truck had no heat, as the guy was in a coat and wearing gloves. "Cold as a witch's tit out there, huh?" then man said. "Uh-huh." "Say, whereabout in Donavan's ya goin'?" "Uh, well, home. I mean, Drumlin Road, by the Shop'o'Tagger's." "Yeah? I gotta cut thru that way, so I'll drop ya off home, if ya want." "Sure." He took off his gloves, rubbed his hands together, and put his gloves back on. Then we pulled out, back into traffic. We went for a couple minutes without saying anything. Then all of a sudden he said, "The name's Benny. Benny Averlaize." "Doug Brine," I said. "Happy to meet ya. So whattaya do, go to school?" "Yeah, I go to Shirt University, down the street." "S'a good school?" "They say it is." "Huh." At this point, Benny was doing about 95 mph, and the truck was starting to shake a little. After a few more minutes of silence, Benny started to sing, quietly, under his breath. It was the theme song from a cartoon, Kokle Pest. It went, "Yes a little bug, my pal Kokle, he's so cute. Down in the park, he's making a spectacle spark, of himself again. What a nut, this bug! From far and near, his..." I was ignoring this song, however, as I was having a sexual fantasy about doing a 69 with Harbaza, but I was interrupted as I saw the flashing lights of an cop car behind us. I looked around and said "shit!" Benny kept singing, and started to accelerate. The cop turned his siren on, and Benny just kept singing that stupid song, and continued to go faster and faster. I looked over and saw he was doing about 115 mph. "Yo, hey man!" I said. But he just smiled, turned his head around, looked at the cop car, then turned back, put out his cigarette in the ashtray, and said "Watch this." He kept accelerating, pushing the needle up to the end of the speedometer, 120 mph, and must have continued on to about 130 or 140, and the cop was keeping up. The truck's engine thundered and the siren blared and my blood banged against me. I thought to myself, "Now I'll never get to the fuckin' show tonight, goddammit." But then Benny, with his eyes intently on the road ahead of him, motioned with his thumb for me to look back at the cops. I did, and I saw that the cops were right on our tail. I could only make out the shadows of the officers, though. I thought to myself, "What the hell?", and I wondered if Harbaza would think I was cool if she could see me in this situation. Then a shock. A blam. A terrible screech as Benny braked the truck. And a horrible crashing kerrang as the cop car smashed into the truck, was thrown into the bed, and then over the truck entirely. I swerved my head around to see the police car a flaming wreck flying off the top of the truck and onto the pavement fifty feet ahead. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 8: IRREGULAR SHIRT CHAPTER 6 SR-072 ============================== SRis006--"Reality Pickup Truck Tom Neadows" ============================== Then all fell very silent. I was momentarily deafened and dumbfounded, but I broke out of it to see Benny taking another cigarette out, lighting it, and glancing at the flaming heap ahead of us with a smile. "Pretty neat, hey Doug?" "How..." I started, stuttering in disbelief, "...how did we--I mean, why didn't--I mean, why..." "This's a pretty sturdy truck." I said nothing but sat there in a state of disbelief while I watched Benny put the truck in gear, start forward, and jam into the blazing wreckage, pushing it onto the shoulder of the road. I felt the heat of the flames on my face. Then Benny backed up a bit, paused to admire his work, and then started down the highway again. I sat there and wished to ask Mr. Averlaize how we managed to stop on a dime and yet not be thrown forward through the window. But I wasn't thinking clearly--I was utterly benumbed by the experience. We kept driving and Benny said nothing, but had a bemused look on his face. He took the exit for Donavan Bends and headed for the vicinity of my house. I had no idea of what to say, since I was so shellshocked, but finally I said "This... y'know, this is some truck." "Yeah," he said. "Bought it from a faggot a couple a years ago. He killed himself and donated all his money to a cat hospital. Now I can go anywhere I want." "Yeah, uh, well...", I started, not really knowing what to say, and also starting to fear for my personal safety. Luckily, however, we came to my street then. "Oh, here's my house.", I said, even though it was a block and a half away (not wanting him to know where I lived). "Yo.", he said, and stopped. I opened the door and was about to get out, but I turned and asked him "Look man, what the hell happened back there?" "Wasted a pig, man." "But..." I started as I got out, "...uh, look man, what about inertia? We should've been thru that windshield, easy. Y'know?" "This is no ordinary pickup truck. It's named Tom Neadows, and it has more'n a few tricks up its sleeve." I had no idea what the hell he was talking about, but I decided to quit while I was alive, and said, "Well, thanks for the ride.... and I won't tell the cops or nothin'.", cringing after I realized what I had just said. "S'no problem, pal. They'll never have a clue. Not a clue." "O...okay." "Have a good one, hey, buddy." "Yeah, you too." With that, I shut the door, and saw the picture of the weird little man, and watched it as Benny Averlaize sped off down the street. "Shit," I said aloud on the freezing street. So I walked to my house and went in. My mom was in the kitchen, as well as my little sister. "Oh hi Doug," she said, "You're just in time for some of Gramma's bread soup!" "Oh, um, well..", I started, but then, glancing at the clock on the oven, realized that I had plenty of time to catch an earlier train and easily get back to campus in time for the show. "Okay, I guess so." "What's the matter? You're shaking like a leaf. Did you come in on the train?" "S'cold outside, ma. Yah." "Yes I know, isn't it? ...oh, did you see the comet, honey?" "No." I sat down at the table and took my gloves off. "Aren't you going to take your coat off?" my mom asked me. "Yeah," I said, but I kept it on. My sister looked at me and said, "Poopoohead." I did not respond. The bread soup was served. It was tasty and hot. Soon I was finished, with my coat still on, and I excused myself. Running up the stairs to my room, I took my coat off, turned on some music, and then snuck over to the attic stairs. I turned on the light, walked up, and looked over to the corner where the violin was kept, but right there was Harbaza, the girl from my astronomy class, just bluntly sitting on a chest. I did a double take, but said nothing. "Hi there Doug," she said. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 8: IRREGULAR SHIRT CHAPTER 7 SR-073 ============================== SRis007--"Violin" ============================== I was frozen, and did not move or speak. I stood there for a full minute, just staring at her, motionless as a statue. I felt as if I were going to crack and fall apart. Finally I managed to make a brief, pathetic sound, a tiny grunt. All the while Harbaza just kept staring at me with a calm expression on her face. "I figured I'd be nice and save you the trouble.", she said, tapping the violin case that she was sitting next to. I slumped to the floor and just sat there like a fallen marionette, managing a brief "uhhh". Then Harbaza got up, walked over, sat down, and put her arms around me. She drew me close to her and looked me in the eyes. I was languid; I could not function in this situation. "Look, I'm as surprised as you. Some little faery lady named Billie came into my room a few minutes ago and told me that you loved me and that you were going to play the violin so that I'd become your girlfriend, and that you'd be in the truck with that Benny guy and he'd kill those police and stuff. So she asked me if I wanted her to teleport me to your attic, and I said that I would very much like to, because... because I love you, too. So here I am." "Faery?" I asked. "Yeah, a little faery lady, about yay big," she said as she showed me her fingers about four inches apart. "Named 'Billie'?" "That's what she said." I looked down and shook my head. "What the hell is going on here?" I asked. "Well," Harbaza said, "I know that you want me, and you know that I want you, and Billie will teleport us back to my room on campus, and my roommate is away for the whole weekend." I looked around for a second, thinking, and then said "Let me get my violin." Everything seemed so cut and dried at that moment, like it was the end of a story, a happily ever after. It was a good moment. A fine moment. A moment I'll remember forever. But it's a few days later now, and everything's shot to hell. At this point, I know I'm gonna be transferring to Thatterine College for next semester. My parents had been pressuring me towards it, but now, after everything that's happened, there's no way to avoid it. What have I done? Dear Harbaza. If I had it to do over again... Okay so what happened was, in the attic, I got my violin and this little faery lady Billie appeared in a twinkle, hovering in mid-air, not flapping her gossamer wings at all. "I see you two love birds have come to terms!" Billie said in a shimmering, fragile voice. "Ready to teleport back to school?" "Oh yeah!" Harbaza yelled, and I was afraid my family would hear it. "Um," I said, "I think this whole teleporting thing is great and everything, but I kind of have a family here, and if I just disappeared they'd get worried--and I'd have a lot of explaining to do." Billie paused, then said, "There's a way to spoil the fun." "Well! I'm just thinking of my family. You know--the people I love? Who I grew up with? They do matter, you know!" "Of course they do," Billie said. "So pretend to leave on your way back to school, and we'll meet up with you down the street and teleport from there. Will that work for you, son?" "Um--yeah. That should do it," I said, looking over at Harbaza. "So I guess you'll just teleport outside with Billie?" "Yeah sure," Harbaza said, sounding a little annoyed. "Wouldn't want your family to see me." "Well it's not that way, but--I mean, c'mon! Faery ladies, teleportation, Reality Pickup Trucks, killing cops! I mean, yeah--I want to leave my family out of this. Definitely." "It's no problem!" Harbaza said. "So we'll see you outside!" "Okay!" I said, turning, then I stopped and turned back to Harbaza. "You think you could, y'know, teleport my violin outside with you, so I don't have to explain it to my mom?" Harbaza took the violin, but looked disturbed. "Why are you even bringing it? I assume we're not going to the talent thing." "Well, no," I said, a little concerned. "But I thought, y'know, that I would play you something, y'know, just you and me. I thought you might like it." Harbaza gave me a weird look. "Well, okay I guess. I just didn't think we'd have TIME to play any music, if you know what I mean." With this, Harbaza raised one eyebrow and gave me a not-too-subtle message of sex. "Well," I stumbled, "just bring it anyway. If we don't get to it, fine. I gotta go downstairs--my mom never wants me up here messing stuff up. So okay--see you outside." I started down the stairs, and then I began to pause, not hearing a response from either of the two. But before I had fully stopped, I heard Billie say, "See you outside, son." So I continued on down the attic stairs, a feeling of alarm raging through my soul. Something was wrong. I could feel it. I mean, I know all this supernatural stuff is bizarre and everything--but I believe in it--I mean, I didn't think it was a trick or anything that someone was playing on me. But I didn't trust what Harbaza had said. It just seemed too easy. And as I was gonna find out, it was. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 8: IRREGULAR SHIRT CHAPTER 8 SR-074 ============================== SRis008--"The Hence Factor" ============================== So I went to my room, got a few books and toys, and threw them in a canvas bag--I had to make it seem like I came home for a reason. Then I went downstairs, but my family was watching TV in another room. "I'm leaving!" I said. "So soon?" I heard my mother say. "I thought you'd stay for 'The Hence Factor'" I hated that show. "No mom, I really have to get back to school. I just had to get a few things. Love ya." "Bye bye" my mom said. "Bye," I said, as I opened the door and felt much fear as I steeped into the frigid outside. I looked around, plans racing through my mind. What if it was all legit? I wouldn't want to pass up the opportunity. SEX, man! With HARBAZA! I mean, c'mon. But on the other hand, couldn't this be some sort of test? Like, testing to see if all I cared about was sex or something? But what could it mean--that I should refuse to teleport with Harbaza and Billie? And was it even a voluntary thing? Anyway, as I approached the street, I saw Harbaza and Billie twinkle into existence a good ways up. Harbaza was waving at me like some kind of ghost, and in that instant, I lost it and began to panic. Where could I turn? I didn't want to get my family involved in this crap. There was no way I was gonna go with Harbaza and the faery, but what could I do? Man, was I fucked. But in that instant, I thought of something, just an impression, an impression that Benny Averlaize could help me. Something about him made me trust him. But how could I get him to help me? I looked wildly up and down the street, trying to see if Benny had parked anywhere nearby. And of course, he hadn't. Why should he? Harbaza stopped waving and looked confused, as far as I could tell from that distance. I knew I had to do something. So I thought about the Reality Pickup Truck, and softly spoke its name--"Tom Neadows." Immediately, the sound of screeching tires came to my ears, as the Reality Pickup Truck turned the corner down the street, swerving wildly toward me--in reverse. When I jerked my head back the other way, I saw Harbaza and Billie teleporting away. Then I turned back and watched as the truck came under control a little and stopped beside me. Benny Averlaize stared down at me from his frosty window, a dull expression of concentration on his face. I looked up and him and did nothing. For a moment, I was concerned that the guy was even alive anymore or something. But then he looked away, rolled down the window, and looked at me as he took a drag on a newly-lit cigarette. "Yeah you got a problem," he said. "Okay? Get in." I just kind of nodded, went quickly around the front of the truck to the other side and got in, slamming the door shut with a clang in the silent night. Benny put the truck in gear and began driving. "They were on an Otherway but I thought nothing of it," Benny said, looking straight ahead at the road. I was silent. "Now I wonder who the fuck you are that they'd do you," he said, looking over at me. I was worried over his words, but a smile on his face made it seem like his words were meant as a joke or something. "Um," I said. That's all I said. I could say nothing beyond "Um." "Hypergods, man," Benny said, accelerating onto the highway. "Nasty suckers." I looked ahead, wondering if we'd pass the wreckage of the police car, and also wondering what the hell Benny was talking about. "But with our friend Tom Neadows here," he said, patting the dashboard, "we can take care of 'em." Then that strange guy looked over at me, a kind of wild look in his eyes, and said "You know?" "Yeah," I said. But I didn't know. I didn't know about any of it. This was serious. I had often tried to do occult stuff, but it never amounted to much. Now, all this crap was happening. I felt light-headed again, like I was drifting away. Just think--the only thing between me and a terrible fate at the hands of these "Hypergods" was a magical pickup truck. Yeah, I was concerned with all this, but at some level, I was more concerned with the fact that I was just about to have sex with Harbaza Turn, and was denied it by the situation. That was really bugging me. I wanted sex. Sex, sex, sex. "Hang on fella," Benny said, "you're in for the ride of your freakin' life!" -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 8: IRREGULAR SHIRT CHAPTER 9 SR-075 ============================== SRis009--"The Rooms" ============================== Doug Brine sat in the Thatterine College Library at a partially enclosed desk, next to a balcony, trying to read from a history text, but finding it difficult to concentrate. He looked down at the reading area below, then across the space to the stacks on the opposite side on his level. Then, seeing something on the edge of his vision, he looked up two levels and saw Sally Sust there, waving her arms at him. Then, seeing that she had gotten his attention, she motioned with her hand for him to go up there. She expressed urgency in her motions, and Doug responded by holding up one finger in a "just a second" sort of way, gathering up his books, and heading over the stairs. Going up the stairs, Doug dropped several of his books, but gathered them up quickly and headed toward the spot where he had seen Sally. As he approached the spot, however, Sally was nowhere in sight. He walked up to the balcony and looked around. He then saw Sally way back in the stacks, again motioning for him to follow. He started towards her and she disappeared around a corner. He continued on towards where he had just seen her, and then, as he came to that point, he again saw her in the distance, further back into the stacks. The stacks which were now so high they resembled more of a forest than the internals of a library. He began moving towards her again, but this time she stood still. He approached her. "What's up?" Doug asked. "Shhhh. We have to be careful," Sally cautioned. "Okay," Doug said in a quiet tone. Sally stared at him for a few moments, then looked around, apparently thinking. "Doug, we found some rooms--they seem to be designed into the architecture of this place as to be unnoticed--we don't think anyone's been in them for a long time." "Yeah? You and who else?" "Well, me and Andrea for now." "What about Yage?" "We tried to call but you were both out. And I haven't seen him all day." "Yeah this is just the sort of thing he'd be into." "You wanna see 'em?" Sally asked. "The rooms?" "Yeah dummy, the rooms." "Of course!" "Okay come on!" Sally grabbed Doug's arm and pulled him along with her as she led him back into a dimly-lit area of stacks. She looked around, and then leaned down and started removing books from the bottom of a shelf. She looked up at Doug and said, "In here." With that, she went down on all fours, and then flattened her body out and wiggled into the shelf until she was gone from view. Doug looked at this with a puzzled expression, as it looked quite comical. Then Sally peeked her head out from where she had entered and said, "Come on! Don't be chicken!" Doug then knelt down next to the shelf and Sally slid back into the space. Doug then bent down further and saw Sally crouching inside a very dimly lit space, but he did see a few patches of sunlight behind her. "Come on, hey?" she said. Doug first passed his books in to her and then reluctantly crawled his way into the space. Sally moved aside as he did this. Soon he was inside a room with a normal-heighted ceiling, lit by some sunlight coming in from gratings up above. He stood up and began looking around. As he did, Sally went partially back out of the opening, apparently replacing the books she had removed from the shelf. "I can't believe no one ever found this place," Doug said quietly. "Well, I think people may have found THIS room, anyone studying 'relational abellophremy', that is," she said, reading the title page of one of the books " But you must admit you'd have to be pretty astute to notice a space behind the books." "Hmm." "But this isn't one of the rooms I was talking about " Sally said as she got up. "This'd be a cool place to hang out after the library closes, huh?" "Sure would," Doug said, thinking immediately of using the space as a sex nest of some sort. Sally crossed across the room and knelt down by one of the corners. "Over here is where the good stuff begins..." she said, and then lifted up the carpet at the corner, revealing a wooden floor. She then stuck her finger into a hole in one segment of wood and lifted up the whole board, trying hard not to make too much noise. She looked up at Doug. "See? This is where it gets interesting," she said. Doug crossed over to the corner and looked down into the space revealed under the floor--it was a concrete surface about three feet below the floor he was then standing on. Sally then went down into the space. "We have to crawl for a little while here," she said. "But you go first, cuz I have to replace the board after we go in." "Why? Who'll come in?" "I don't know, but if anyone sees those books out there messed up, they might look in here--and if they do, I want to keep this part a secret." "Okay, no problem." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 8: IRREGULAR SHIRT CHAPTER 10 SR-076 ============================== SRis010--"Speed Limit 85 MPH" ============================== So Doug got into the hole and crouched down, rubbing against Sally as he did, since she remained in the hole also. He looked at her as he was descending, and they stared at each other at close proximity for several seconds before Sally smiled and turned away. Then Doug looked down into the space, and saw that a tunnel extended into the distance, away from the opening into the library, but was completely dark. "You want me to go in there?" he asked. "Believe me, it's worth it." "Okay." Doug began to crawl on all fours into the darkness on the cold cement floor. "Nothing will be the same after this," Doug thought, for some reason, as he slid into a seeming oblivion. From behind him he heard Sally sliding the board back into place, as he also saw what little light there was disappear. "How'd you get the rug back in place?" Doug asked. "Well, I pulled the rug back into place first, and then just slid the board back into position." "Uh-huh. Hey, where I am going, anyway." "You'll see." "You know, if you wanted to kill me, this would be a great way to do it." "That's a nice thing to say." "Sorry." So Doug continued on, and heard Sally following behind him. In this space, he was able to crawl rather comfortably, but the top of the space did rub against his back as he did so. "Hey, are my books still out there?" Doug asked. "Oh yeah, they are." "Well what if someone looks inside? My name is in those books--they'd know I was in here!" "Oh don't be so paranoid. They'd see there was nobody in the room and figure you just hid them there for some reason." "Uh-huh... I guess so." "You know so." The crawlspace continued for a good distance, in total darkness. "How do I know when I've gotten to where we're going? I can't see a damn thing," Doug said. "You'll know. It's just a little ways further." Very soon the crawlspace began to angle downwards. "Hey, it's going down!" Doug said. "Yeah, okay, uh, the tunnel ends soon, and there a hatch in the ceiling." "Well I'm not there yet. Say, where exactly are we, anyway? We must be somewhere around the third floor of the building." "Yeah, I guess so. You know all these buildings are really just the one Big Building, so it makes sense that there would be spaces in-between the 'buildings' themselves--that's what this must be." "Well I know what you mean. The buildings are arranged so as to make it seem as if they're separate, I mean, with all the courtyards and such. But weren't they all built at different times? I mean--oh, I'm at the end." Doug's head had gently bumped against a wall at the end of the tunnel. "Okay, well, just open the hatch now, huh?" Sally said. "Ohhhhhkay." Doug felt above him, and it seemed to be wood, but he could feel no handle. "I can't feel a handle or anything." "Just push." So Doug pushed, and then pushed a little harder, and then the hatch gave way, revealing another room. Doug climbed out of the hole in the floor and marveled at what he saw. It was a medium-sized room with no other apparent means of entry other than the hatch. On of the walls was an amber-tinted window--looking down into the huge main lobby of the College Commons. The entire room was pervaded by a dark yellow cast, making its contents seem all the more bizarre. Looking around Doug saw a whole bunch of stuff. But it was the window that concerned him most. "What the--can't they see us up here?" he asked. "That's what I thought," Sally said. "But I went down there afterward--and y'know?--there's no window to be seen. Just gray stone." "How's that possible?" Doug asked, walking over to the window. "I don't know," Sally said. "Huh." "But check it out! Look at all this stuff! It must have been here for ages!" "Yeah," Doug said, taking a better look at all the stuff in the room. It was a collection of all sorts of stuff--shelves stuffed with vases, stuffed animals, cash registers, rocks, decks of cards, fake plants, and the like. There were also a few tables covered with similar junk. But when Doug's eyes reached one of the corners, he felt a sudden shock. He was looking at a speed limit sign, reading "SPEED LIMIT 85 MPH". Hanging from it was a purple, cyan, tan, and red striped shirt. "What is that?" Doug asked in a dark tone. "What?" Sally responded, but Doug was already across the room, grabbing the shirt and burying his face in it, smelling it. Finally, he looked up. "Can't you see? Benny was right! I DO have a future!" -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 8: IRREGULAR SHIRT CHAPTER 11 SR-077 ============================== SRis011--"Hider" ============================== Sally Sust lay splattered and smudged in black ink. Doug Brine was gone. How long ago he had mounted her she couldn't tell--her state of consciousness was still pretty hazy. She remembered him putting on the Irregular Shirt, taking a deep breath, then taking the lid off a barrel. A barrel full of ink. He lifted the ladle that was in the barrel, and slurped down a gulp of ink, finishing with an energetic "Ahh!" He drank a few more ladlefuls and then glared at Sally. His chin and the Irregular Shirt were deeply stained. He looked at her as if he were seeing a whole lot more than he had before, like he was examining a very detailed diagram. Then he smiled, and Sally felt a jolt. Instantly, she was filled with lust for him, filled with a fetish for ink. All that ink--so sexy, so erotic. She slinked forward and lightly embraced him. As soon as she touched him she felt a ravenous hunger for ink, which he administered to her, ladle after ladle, taking more for himself as well. She was totally into ink and totally into Doug. Somewhere in her mind, she knew that it was all wrong, but her lust, her ink id, was too strong to resist. They made inkful love for a few explosive minutes, and somewhere in there, Sally lost consciousness. Now, she was starting to emerge from the bizarre mental assault. Had she just been raped? No. She was totally willing, even demanding of Doug. But had he caused her to feel like that? Yes. But--don't people cause other people to feel that way all the time? Whatever, she was a wreck. Disoriented and stained. She sat up a little and looked down into the main lobby. It was night now, and her fellow students were about their mundane activities like little ants, like always. She wanted to be down there, and not be ink-covered and violated. But that wasn't the way it was. In the midst of her misery, she began to feel a surge of excitement and awakening. It was the speed limit sign that caught her eye. So much brighter, so much more real than all the other crap in this secret room. And Doug wasn't here. So it was hers for the taking. She started getting up, but paused. Look what happened when Doug satisfied his attraction for the Irregular Shirt--he started drinking ink and seducing innocent women. What would happen to her if she took--Hider. Yes. As soon as her eyes locked onto it, she knew its name. Hider. Now there was no chance of holding back. She stood up and walked over to the sign--it was a great blazing sun in her awareness, blotting out everything else. She grasped in by its pole and lifted it. Immediately, mental patterns gushed into her. She got information. She knew about Hider. And she understood about Doug a little more too. And she saw--she hadn't been raped by Doug--both her and Doug had been raped by the awesome forces from whence Hider and Irregular Shirt came. But there was no going back. Hider was hers. Interesting. Hider could hide things. Like it had hidden these rooms. Somehow, Sally had circumvented its effect. Just how this had happened was not apparent to her. No one should be able to find something hidden by Hider, even in broad daylight in an obvious location. Enormous power. This is what she held. The power to hide, and also the power to find. To find things previously hidden by Hider. There was a lot of that at Thatterine College--a lot of stuff hidden by Hider. Another cool thing she was aware of was that Hider would make her effectively invisible to others. No one would look her way, no one would be aware of her. She could walk around naked and covered in ink and no one would look at her. Cool. And that's just what she did. She stripped away her torn clothes and shoved them aside. She regarded her ink-stained form. It looked good. She had a good body, she was lucky in that sense. The ink made it look great. She shook her head--no--ink should not be erotic. It was a fetish forced on her. She'd have to get rid of it. Someday. For now, though, it really excited her. She opened the trap door in the floor and lowered Hider into space, then herself. It was a bit awkward crawling along with the speed limit sign, but she managed. Incredible. She was sensing a whole bunch of offshoots to the tunnel. She had discovered one before--but it only led to a small, dingy space. She now saw that that little room was the nexus of half-a-dozen different tunnels. Wow. Soon she was at the other end of the tunnel. She shoved open the trap door and looked around the first room. Huh. Doug's books were still here. She wondered what happened to him. A trail of ink told her that he did indeed go this way, and back out into the library. Huh. He tried his best to replace the books on the shelf that led into this room, but they were all now smothered in ink. She wondered if the Hider curve here would prevent folks from noticing the mess. She knew it would, for most people. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 8: IRREGULAR SHIRT CHAPTER 12 SR-078 ============================== SRis012--"Wriggling Inky Naked Chick" ============================== Sally carefully pulled the books into the room and looked out into the library. Not much of an ink trail out there--Doug must have been careful. There were a few student feet to be seen though, and nearby. She regarded the Hider curve around her--would it really hide a wriggling, inky naked chick from roaming eyes? The curve seemed rock solid, so she wriggled. Soon she was back in the library, kneeling before the entrance to the secret rooms, holding Hider like a staff. There were several student in plain eye view, but they didn't look at her. She even cleared her throat lowly, but still, no response. She considered more drastic tests of the Hider effect, but she became aware that certain actions on her part would ruin the Hider curve. Like, if she walked up to someone and shoved and yelled at them. Hider couldn't hide something like that. Sally then replaced the books to their right position, stood up, and took a deep breath. It felt good to be naked in public. She realized that anybody could do this--walk around naked--so long as no one noticed them. But without Hider (or dark of night, or a college for the blind) they'd undoubtedly be spotted. So she strode through the stacks, and made her way down to the main lobby that had been visible from the secret room. Soon she faced a big staircase with a lot of student traffic on it. She hesitated--common sense told her there was no way she could avoid detection. She grasped Hider tighter, though, and set forth. Indeed, no one happened to look her way. A lot of the folks were distracted--a group of friends imitating cartoon character voices, another few doing some heavy horseplay. It was glorious to be able to do this, she thought. But the fact that no one could see her took the fun out of it a little. But only a little. Soon she was on the floor of the main lobby. She walked across the marble floor, cold to her bare feet. She stopped in the middle and looked around. A crowd. And none of them noticing the nude woman with the speed limit sign. Looking up, she sought the location of the secret room, and felt it with her Hider senses. And also... there were other secret areas, all around. She sensed an intricate mazework of tunnels and rooms, pulsating throughout Big Building. Places to explore. Places for her alone. She turned her thoughts to Doug. Was he a friend or an enemy? She wasn't sure. At first, she was upset with what he had done to her--but like she realized, it really wasn't his fault. It was the Shirt's fault. Hider was stable, but the Irregular Shirt was wild and uncontrollable. Sally smiled as an idea struck her. What if she tried to hide the lobby? Her Hider senses responded with the impression that it'd be just about impossible--the surface seemed too slippery to apply a curve to. Oh well. She crossed the lobby and headed for the outside. Almost to the door, she looked to her left and could have sworn she saw a guy looking right at her. A guy she recognized from around campus. He had long, wavy blond hair and a green leather jacket. She just looked away and stepped out into the chilly night. No way could he have seen her. Somewhere within her, though, she wished he had. Made it more exciting. Outside, the Hider curve around her eased its tension a great deal. Less work to do out here, she supposed. What now? Finding Doug seemed a good course of action, but she didn't sense him anywhere, nor did she know if she had the ability to sense him. Back to Spoin, she supposed. Maybe a shower? Hopefully it wasn't permanent ink. Then--homework, boyfriend Trad, call Mom, laundry--no. The mundane was shot. Sally couldn't go back. She'd pursue this trail with her ultimate tool, Hider. But first, a little naked stroll around campus... -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 8: IRREGULAR SHIRT CHAPTER 13 SR-079 ============================== SRis013--"Impersonating a Teenager on an Alternate World" ============================== As a Minor Occult Entity I've had to watch my step. It's all too easy to impress new friends with my powers, only to later discover that I gave a fellow supernaturaler a free peek into my set of abilities. So I try to feel people out and determine whether or not they're hiding anything. That is, the more powerful beings can usually hide their true nature without so much as a pinprick of slippage. But such is existence these days. I'm going to college now. I guess I must've gone to college a few times before, but I really can't remember. All I can say is that it seemed like a pleasant way to pass a few years. Y'know, find a cool reality, an intriguing period of history, a good campus. It would seem to be nonstop wargames, fiery sex with awesome and irresistible girls, intellectual debates, bastard drunken four day weekends, cool mysterious nightscapes, soothing train rides, dizzy walkings around, and all that. In truth, it's a pretty watered-down version of that. The folks are so young and confused and insecure. They don't know what they want to do. They're always worried about their classes. I guess I should look for a campus of vacationing Occult Entities posing as students to get what my original vision teased me with. But Thatterine College isn't so bad. Getting the college I.D. was particularly nasty here. They have computers on this world, and where you have computers you have databases. I had to do quite a little bit of work recreating myself for an official existence in the Area of Gullia Fair--that of Noaster Sitar--a name I chose from my past. But it's been two-and-a-half months so far, and I'm pretty much loving it. But I must say that I wasn't expecting to find such a high level of occult activity brewing below Thatterine's reassuring exterior. But what the hell should I expect, impersonating a teenager on an alternate world? I find myself settling into a routine here. I guess I'm emulating my roommate's behavior to a degree, since I'm not totally confident that I'm behaving in a normal manner at all times. Washington Loggats is a pleasant enough fellow, if a bit annoying. He seems fascinated with the notion of collegiate hedonism in much the way I have been. He too seems to be wondering just where the hedonists are to be found. There are certainly an interesting bunch here on Spoin Fifth. I feel quite at home with these normals. I have to wonder as to the nature of things when I find that folks with no powers barely out of their childhoods are like me in a majority of ways. How can it be that over the millennia of my existence I have not risen significantly above this level? I mean, if memory serves me, I was in college in a similarly technological world over 4,000 years ago. I try and fathom that span of time. How much memory do I really have? I mean, I can reconstruct an outline of what has happened based on key memories, but so much has either been lost or very deeply buried. I guess that I'm most comfortable with my fellow dormmates, being that they are the ones I spend the most time with. But I find an unusually high interest in occult matters among these people. How is it that out of all the colleges I could have chosen, and all the dorm floors I might have been assigned to, this college and floor are so occultishly attuned? That I cannot answer. These days I'm not so sure of what's happening. Every time I wake up I feel like I've lost a little more of myself. It was in the afternoon and I stared out the window at the autumn panorama of Thatterine College. My feet were up on our refrigerator, and I loosely held a magazine in my hands. "Comin' over to the library later, Noaster?" Washington asked. "Hmm?" I responded. "You know. That thing at the library." "Yeah. What about it." "You comin'?" "Tell me about it again." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 8: IRREGULAR SHIRT CHAPTER 14 SR-080 ============================== SRis014--"Big Building" ============================== Washington was tall and thin, with somewhat greasy short black hair and a sharp face adorned with a good deal of acne. He often wore a business suit sort of get-up and carried around a briefcase. I'm not quite sure why. "Well, like I told you before, I found this like secret room or something." "Yeah. I know about that, but I mean, how could it be secret? Surely the folks there know of it. It's probably just a storage room." "No. It feels too bizarre to be normal. I mean, just standing in there, it's like being deep within the earth, in a cavern where no one's been for ages. I think there's definitely something occult about it." "Yeah well, Big Building was constructed what, only sixty or seventy years ago. You think they had supernatural catacombs in mind? I doubt it." "You know as well as I do that Evene Thatter was into all sorts of weird stuff." "Mmm." I stared out the window at some folks meandering by. I did know that Evene Thatter, the school's founder, had been into the occult to some degree. But making secret occult rooms in a library? Well, it's not just the library. Big Building is an enormous structure containing numerous school divisions. and indeed, much of the interior is wholly without windows, since the architect had a vision of a massive mound of a structure where students could spend their whole day--or even their lives--the ones that live in the dorm section of it. "I'm telling you, Noaster, you're gonna love it. I'm really on to something here. I can feel it. I think I might break through, I might finally discover something." "Yeah--just like Tanner Loblolly, huh?" "Yeah. Whatever did happen to him, anyway? No one seems to know, but they act like it's no big deal." "I don't know," I said, getting up and going over to the closet, "but he was acting all weird--saying that he'd discovered something so cool. Then he just lost it and dropped out." "Yeah but who knows--maybe he DID discover something. I should really call him soon. I know I have his home phone number somewhere around here. " As I took a light jacket out of the closet, Doug Brine walked in, wearing a "Nardale Creeks" T-shirt. "Who discovered something?" Doug asked. I noticed something odd about Doug--dark stains around his lips and on his chin. "No," Washington said, "I was just saying how, y'know, how maybe Tanner actually did discover something really cool and that's why he dropped out." "Maybe," Doug said, looking a little uncomfortable. "Seemed more like a nervous breakdown or something to me. But he could have discovered something, I guess." "Washington thinks he has something now," I said, putting the jacket on. "Some sort of hidden occult room in the library." Suddenly, Doug turned very pale. "What?" Washington stood up. "Yeah," Washington said, "it's pretty cool. It's this room--you have to really squeeze through this opening and stuff. It seems like no one has been there in ages. I get a real weird feeling there." Doug was now visibly uncomfortable--I could tell his heart was thumping away like crazy. "When did you find this room?" Doug asked in an accusing tone. "Oh, it was this morning, after Prog. I was just sitting at a cubicle, studying for my test, and I just sort of noticed this kind of opening. It's funny, how I never noticed it before." "Was there anything in there?" Doug asked. "Not really," Washington replied. "Some kind of table and some boxes. But nothing all that interesting. It's just the FEELING of the place you gotta experience." "Uh-huh," Doug said, looking out the window. I made an effort and looked into Doug. I didn't like using my powers to peer into a person's mind, but in this case, I just had to know what was wrong with him. Instantly I saw that he, too, had found a secret room in the library, just the day before, and it was far from empty. "You ever see anything weird in that library?" I asked, trying to pry the information out of him. "Um--yeah," Doug said, leaning against the wall. "Yeah. I found someplace. A different place. Now it's really messing me up." "What do you mean?" Washington asked. "You found another secret room?" Doug nodded. "What was in it?" I asked. Doug looked at me, and I saw a scary sort of wildness in his eyes. "Well, you know Shirt University--how it was started by Thatter's friend Pobix Pabor? You know how he was looking for some kind of shirt? That's why he named the school that. Well, I basically found it. I have the Irregular Shirt. And now I have to drink ink." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 8: IRREGULAR SHIRT CHAPTER 15 SR-081 ============================== SRis015--"Stuporconductor" ============================== Janice Pawn stumbled on the weedy concrete staircase and grabbed a rusted railing to regain her balance. But she swung around and the notebooks and papers in her other hand flew away wildly. The stranger stood motionless. The fall ended. "Uh... do you need any help?" the stranger asked. "No," Janice answered. "Fine," the stranger said, and began to walk away. "Uh, wait..." Janice called after him, seeing that the wind had picked up and was beginning to hopelessly distribute her papers. "Hmm?" the stranger uttered as he turned around and looked at her. "Um, I suppose I could use some help in, y'know, picking up the papers." "Okay," the stranger said matter-of-factly. He had a weird look in his eyes, and he started to collect Janice's papers. "Thanks," Janice said as she got up. The stranger continued collecting Janice's papers in a swift and efficient manner, and was finished just as the wind gained force. He handed her the papers. "Thank a lot," she said to him. "No problem," he said, looking into her eyes briefly. Then he turned and muttered "Take it easy." "Um--wait," she said. "Hmm?" the stranger said, turning around. "I wonder if you could help me find an address. I don't come round Abdebacle Bay very much, and I'm... I guess I'm totally lost," Janice said. "Well, I guess you're in luck, 'cause I live right around here," the stranger said, "So, uh, I should be able to help you, uh, just, just fine." "Okay good," Janice said, taking a piece of folded notebook paper out of a notebook and looking at it. "Can you help me find, uh, 1775 Whazey Way?" The stranger looked concerned. "Whazey Way? You wanna go there?" "Uh, yeah," Janice said. "Do you know where it is?" "Uh, well I know where it is, but it's just that it's a sort of... uh, a sort of un..." "A sort of what?" "Um, a sort of, just a sort of weird road, that's all. I've seen some weird stuff over there." "Well, that's sort of why I want to go there." "I'll show you where it is," the stranger said. Janice and the stranger began walking along the street. "Is it far?" she asked. "Well, it's probably about a 15 minute walk. Why, you have a car?" "No," Janice said. "I took the bus in." "Hmm. Well, I'd like to show you the way, 'cause I'm real bad at giving directions. It's sort of tricky getting there." "Fine by me," Janice said. The two walked along in silence for a little while. A jet plane roared past low overhead. "So you go to school?" the stranger asked. "Yeah. I'm over at Thatterine in Gullia Fair. Studying sociology." "Really? I used to go there. I graduated a year-and-a-half ago." "No kidding? What'd you study?" "Uh, y'know, double major, English and Theater." "Oh yeah? You know Dr. Kater?" "Sure. He was my advisor." "Yeah I'm in his Intro class right now." "How ya like it?" "Oh, it's pretty cool. He's a pretty intense guy." "What other professors you got?" "Oh, y'know. Heazy, Stoongle, Bestroystraw." "Bestroystraw? Bavler Bestroystraw? He's back?" "Yeah. I have him for Intro to the Mysterious." "You're lucky. I wanted to take a class with him, but he was gone most of the time I was there. My name's Fratch, by the way. Short for Fratcher, so don't even ask." "You know, I think I heard about you. You used to write for the school paper, right?" "Yeah sure. I did my own paper for a while too." "Stuporconductor?" "Yeah that's it." "This is so weird, 'cause I was just reading some of your back issues the other day." "Really?" "Yeah. And one of the articles was about coincidences. Huh. And now I meet you out here in Abdebacle Bay. Huh. I love how you did the logo, like STPRCNDCTR with no vowels." "Yeah. So what's your name?" "Oh sorry. I'm Janice. Uh, Janice Pawn." "Well I'm happy at least someone's still reading Stuporconductor." "A lot of people read it. At least, a lot of my friends. Why didn't you continue it after you graduated?" "Oh, I thought about it, but I didn't want to get into it unless I could devote all my time to it, y'know. I might do something with it someday." "Didn't anyone want to keep it going at That?" "Yeah sure. Dozens of people, but when it came to actually getting their act in gear, they all folded up. Typical." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 8: IRREGULAR SHIRT CHAPTER 16 SR-082 ============================== SRis016--"Whazey Way" ============================== Janice turned her face into the wind and looked at the sun making it's way to the horizon. "Me and my friend were wondering about that. We even talked about getting in touch with, uh, you, and uh, trying to get it started again. Y'know, we wanted to do it." "Yeah? Well I'm all for the idea. I mean, look at this, what are the chances that we'd be talking about this? It must be some cosmic domain or ordinance or something forcing it back to life." "This is really weird. But I think we could bring Stuporconductor back, my friend and me. I mean, I don't think we'd fold up on it." "Well, publishing is a lot of hard work. And it requires organization. Organization is the key. And unfortunately, the sort of people into Stuporconductor sort of themes usually're pretty disorganized." "Yeah." "So uh, why is it exactly you're going to Whazey Way?" "Hmm? Oh. Um, it's like an occult mail-order place, but they said I could come over." Fratcher was quiet for a little while. "There's something wrong with Whazey Way," he finally said. "Like what?" "Well, I can't quite put my finger on it, but it's like, when you're there, you feel like everytime to turn a corner or move your head or blink your eyes you'll wind up in another universe or something." "Sounds cool." "Well, I guess it is cool, but there are... well, there are quite blatantly supernatural forces at work there. I don't know what kind, but I know it's pretty powerful. Something that can't be approached from a rational viewpoint. Something that would shatter the rational." "I'm not quite sure what you mean." "Well...what's the name of this place anyway? This mail order place." "Um, let's see..." Janice said as she looked at the paper again "it's called Lionire-Warheavion Enterprises." "Huh. Never heard of it. That's strange--I thought I knew about all those kind of places." "Well, maybe they're new. I just saw their ad the other day." "Huh," Fratcher uttered. "But they have some cool stuff from the look of their ad." "You mind if I go in with you?" "Not at all. It'll be cool to have the great publisher Fratcher Leedooms with me. Maybe we can interest them in selling some of your back issues." "Right. That'll be the day." "Come on! Stuporconductor is really good, don't be so self-critical. If you do something good, admit it!" "It's not really that, it's just... I mean, I know it's good and everything, but look where it went--nowhere." "Well, that's true, but it's only been a year or so. No way could its fate be decided in so short a time." "What's the place called again?" Fratcher asked. "Lionire-Warheavion." "Hmm. Sounds weird. And I have a weird feeling. I mean..." "Yeah?" "I had a dream something like this this morning." "Like this?" "Yeah. I was lost, walking around Abdebacle Bay and everything, and I was really worried, 'cause like I said I know this area real well." "Wow." "Yeah." Fratcher didn't want to tell this Janice the rest of the dream--how he went up to this weird little store, met a girl there, and started having sex with her. And as they screwed, as he pumped, the world around them changed. No, he didn't want to tell her. He did that once--told a girl he knew about a dream he had about making love to her. Then he never heard from her again. Looking at it from her perspective, he could see why she'd gotten so freaked out. Or at least... he assumed she got freaked out. She'd moved to a distant city, maybe something else happened to her... Anyway, he didn't want to risk it here. They walked along in silence for awhile. "So," Janice said, "what've you been doing. Y'know, since graduation and everything." "Well..." Fratcher said hesitantly. They kept walking, and Janice looked up at him. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 8: IRREGULAR SHIRT CHAPTER 17 SR-083 ============================== SRis017--"Rich" ============================== "Thing is," he said, "my parents are criminals. Successful ones. I was an accident, see? I was always in the way. They treated me like shit my whole life, then they just..." Janice looked at him with a sympathetic look. He continued. "They had to leave the country. And they just... they left me their mansion and this huge sum of money. Really fouled me up." "Huh?" "I don't know. It's like, they didn't do it 'cause they loved or even liked me... just... it was an easy and convenient way for them to prove they were great parents. I mean, I was at school, and my Mom... I was coming back from class and I saw her coming out of my room. She wasn't even planning on seeing me in person. She came back in my room with me and showed me what she left... all these documents and stuff. Said everything was mine, she and Dad were headed for the islands--she wouldn't even tell me where, somewhere in the Yujja region. Said they just struck it rich. I said, what the fuck Mom, aren't you rich already. She said no--RICH rich. I started crying like an idiot. She kissed me on the cheek and was gone. That was my senior year. I always thought I'd go to work--be a writer, start from the bottom somewhere. But with that fortune now in my hands... why? Why work?" Janice could see his eyes welling up with tears. "Come on," she said. "At least they gave you that gift. They must feel something for you." "I don't know. I don't think so." "Are you in touch with them?" "Not really. They write me sometimes, but they don't tell me where I can write them. They send... photos. Like they're showing off. I don't even--I mean, it's just so sick..." "What is?" "Them! They have--I don't know--like a--a harem or something. It's..." "A harem?" "Yeah. Can you believe it? They have tons of husbands and wives, I don't know what the hell going on with them. I know they're into drugs, too. Way into 'em." "Wow." "Yeah. You know how well you can live in that part of the world with just a modest sum of money?" "Uh-huh." "With the fortune they have--god only knows what's going on. I hate them. I really hate them. Sometimes I just wanna liquidate all my assets and give it to charity. Or set up a charity or something." "Why don't you?" He paused. "'Cause I'm too damn selfish. I'm just like them, I guess." "No you're not." Their eyes met, and Fratcher felt a blast of love surge through him. He turned away. "They knew," he said. "They knew the money would ruin me, corrupt me. It's what they want. They want me to be miserable and be just like them." Janice sighed. After a little while, Fratcher said "You must think I'm a real loser being so miserable with all that money." "I don't." Fratcher felt weird. He loathed himself for bringing his fortune up. He did it to impress her, to turn her on. He wanted to get her into the mansion, make her really wet. Damn! It's working, he thought--they're turning me into a monster. Just like them. "Look," Janice said, pointing. He looked and saw it. A street sign. Whazey Way. "Yup. This is it." "Great!" He didn't want to go on Whazey Way. He wanted to bring Janice back to the mansion. He wanted to do her. And he hated himself for it. Her youthful wonder and enthusiasm. He used to have it too. Before the monsters took it away. "Now to find 1775," she said. "Yup." And he felt it. He sensed it. The weirdness. The warping. The lost. The mystery. He knew he wouldn't be back to his mansion that night. As he watched the sun set, he just knew. Whazey Way was a one-way street. He could feel it. He wanted to yank Janice back, spirit her back to the mansion, get away from this weirdness. But he just couldn't. He couldn't crush this wonderful girl. He wasn't like his parents. He wouldn't let himself be. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 8: IRREGULAR SHIRT CHAPTER 18 SR-084 ============================== SRis018--"The People Who Clean the Trains at Night" ============================== Night. Later. "Well, I still can't believe it," Janice Pawn said, sitting in the passenger seat of Yonder Caoden's car as they pulled into the parking space. "I don't know," Yonder said, yanking up the emergency brake and shutting the engine off. "I always felt there was... I don't know, something really WEIRD about Lucid. But this... it's just... it's just so..." "I know. It's like, if they're gonna do it, I mean, at least lock the door! I mean, come on--you don't say 'come in' even if you're in bed with a GUY. But another girl? Jeez, what was she thinking?" "I don't know," Yonder said, taking a handkerchief out of her purse, folding it, and putting it on her head. "She must have known it would be the talk of the school. And the other girl--I heard she may have been underage." "Yeah, who was it anyway?" "No one knows. A few people said she was a local high school student, or even--I mean it's foundless--a grade school student." "WHAT?" "Yeah--remember, Kathy and Washington were the only ones to see her. They said she looked awful young." "But--" Janice said, smiling, "--how much of them did they see? I mean, were they totally covered up, or what?" "Well, from what Kathy told me, they were both in the buff and in the open." "Man, what was she thinking!" "I don't know. Maybe she's trying to prove a point." "But--like I said, you don't let people in when you're doing it! They even kept doing it a little after they came in, right?" "They were in each other's arms." "Wow." "Yeah," Yonder said, looking around the parking lot, "Kathy freaked out and ran into my room, and Barbaza was there, studying while I was at the food court. She was yelling and screaming for Barbaza to go see them--to show she wasn't hallucinating about it. But when they got back, the other girl was gone--Washington stepped outside in embarrassment, and when Kathy and Barbaza went in, Lucid was still there, naked as the day she was born, but the girl was gone." "Where'd she go?" "I dunno--I think Lucid told 'em the girl was hiding in the closet, but I don't know--there really isn't ROOM in Lucid's closet for anyone to hide, y'know?" "Yeah." "Well, I don't see Nallie's car here. Maybe someone dropped her off? I'm not supposed to go into the trains without her." "No?" "Yeah, for security reasons or something. I don't know--I guess I have to go into the trains to see if she's there, right? I mean, I have to break the rule to follow the rule." "No," Janice said, "rules ain't rules that step on each other's toes--or so Nardale Creeks would say." "He that frontier fighter guy?" "Yeah--he fought with a Lucerne hammer. We've been studying him in Baskonontanan History." "Huh. Yeah, he's cool. I saw a show about him." "Yeah." "So what should I do?" Yonder asked. "I don't know--maybe we should wait a little longer." "I know, but I'm not supposed to be late--another rule--and if we wait much longer..." Janice laughed and Yonder joined her. "The thing is," Yonder said, "I really need the money." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 8: IRREGULAR SHIRT CHAPTER 19 SR-085 ============================== SRis019--"Sorry You Had to Erase Your Memory" ============================== Janice smiled and looked down, and they were silent for a time. Finally, Janice spoke. "God, I wonder what lesbians--y'know--what do they--DO to each other?" "I don't know, but you can be sure they're doing oral sex on each other." "Yuck." "I know. I mean, with a guy, it's like... the thing is THERE--like a popsicle or something--" Yonder said and Janice laughed, "--but a woman--I mean, it's like this hole you have to DIG INTO! I mean, it's so gross. You have to admire the guys that do it." "Or the girls." They laughed. "Or the girls, right," Yonder said. "I wish a guy would do it to me," Janice said after a pause. "No one ever did?" "Well--one guy did it a little--I think--but I don't think he was doing it right. I wish some guy would just--y'know--get INTO it." "A sexual athlete." "Yeah." There was another silence. "So what's all this with your 'mystery man'?" Yonder asked. "Oh..." Janice said in a distracted manner, as if thinking deeply, "It's just this guy I met over in Abdebacle Bay. He used to go to Thatterine--maybe you heard of him--Fratcher Leedoms?" "Uh--no." "Well yeah, he uh--he published this cool supernatural newspaper called 'Stuporconductor' a few years ago. I think you saw--" "--yeah--" "--y'know--some of the issues of it I have." "Uh-huh." "So I met him... y'know it was so weird--meeting him like that, cuz I was going... y'know... to this occult supply store, and--" "--you and that occult," Yonder said. "I know, I know," Janice said. "A nice girl like me isn't supposed to be interested in stuff like that." "Not so much that," Yonder said. "I just think that most of it is a rip-off. I had my little stint. No offense, but there are a lot of young people out there who WANT to believe in something, and there are a lot of bad people out there ready, willing, and able to play on that." "I know..." Janice said in a longing way, "it's just--I KNOW there's something else going on out there--I can--I can FEEL IT all around me. And... and today... in Abdebacle Bay... something definitely happened..." "Oh yeah?" "Uh-huh. Only thing is... I can't remember." "What?" "I can't remember." "You don't remember what happened within the past few hours?" Yonder said in an exaggerated manner. "Well--it's just that this guy--Fratcher--drove me home. And it's like--I remember meeting him, and heading to this store, but then--it's hazy. I remember... being in his car, and driving over the Calermut Bridge. I woke up--in the car--I must have been asleep. And he was playing his music so loud that I didn't say anything..." Yonder stared wide-eyed at Janice. "And--and the rest of the way I kind of drifted in and out of sleep--and when we finally got back to school--I told him where to drop me off, and he said..." Janice stopped, and wore a frightened expression. "What?" Yonder asked softly. "He said--'Sorry you had to erase your memory.'" -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 8: IRREGULAR SHIRT CUPLINE'S END ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 9: THE WATERALLIDGE EDGE 7 Chapters--SR-086 thru SR-092 ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 9: THE WATERALLIDGE EDGE CHAPTER 1 SR-086 ============================== SRwe001--"Girls" ============================== Three men were falling and drifting, whipped around in the caprice of a chaotic gravity, the outskirts of the city all around them, the place lost and destroyed, and they knew every minute could be their last. Like leaves in a blizzard, the three felt the terror of uncontrol, the nighttime landscape a sickening nightmare in their current plight. A light drizzle drenched them, and it was the slashes of yellow light in the sky, persistent, not lightning, not sun, not moon, that horrified them. They all wanted to talk, to say SOMETHING in the midst of the likely end of their days, but they couldn't manage it in the terrible weather. Then the mischief of nature gone awry slammed them into a mansion, and all three had a tenuous grasp on a slick, time-worn marble banister. "Can someone get a grip!" yelled Pearce Monancahol, a huge man whose yellow hair was matted with moisture, covering his eyes and most of his face. "Use your fingernails... anything... if one of us can get a grip... the others can hold onto him!" They all groped for some hold, but the banister was totally smooth, with no possible place to grab onto. They were flailing wildly, and if not for the temporarily lack of gravity--which they knew could run out any second--they would have been sure to fall off, either to their death on the ground below, or back into the air, to face certain death eventually. This slick banister was their best hope on life. "No good! No! No!" Duncer-Haxun moaned. He was thin, with dark skin and oily black hair, which he risked falling by wiping away from his face. "Wrap your limbs around it!" shouted Perspective Quartz Mahoney, who was hugging the banister with all his might. He was bald with sunglasses, and had a huge nose. "If you can hold on... it would work even without friction... like chains... like links..." All three did as Mahoney suggested, and they managed to get a relatively firm hold on the banister. And then, the weather let up for a moment--a little more gravity, but not too much, and a drying wave of dry heat. "Just hold on!" Mahoney wailed. "Whoever lives here--they're bound to see us sooner or later!" But he peered into the lighted windows and saw, in rooms with orange-brown, run-down walls, that the place was deserted. "All gone!" said Duncer-Haxun. "They must have evacuated--wherever we are, it must be really bad here." "Dammit!" Mahoney screamed, and the weather whipped up again, drenching them with wave of blackish water, a weak antigravity tugging them upward. "Girls!" yelled Mahoney, and all of a sudden his sunglasses, Darnalt Knocking Salt, flew off from his face. At the same time, Pearce's belt, Challen-67, undid itself and met the sunglasses in midair. And, from out of Duncer-Haxun's jacket pocket, his lighter, Prefer Joanie Hugging, zoomed out and met the belt and the sunglasses. The three items linked together--the belt wrapping around the stems of the sunglasses, the lighter snapping shut on the belt. The belt was in a loop now. In a swift motion, the three items flew among the men, and they all caught hold of the belt. In the blink of an eye, they were carried up to a balcony and dropped there, as the three items, spent of energy, clattered to the ground. "Pick 'em up and let's get inside!" Mahoney yelled in panic. Each man desperately grabbed his item, fearing that the weather might act up worse, and scrambled into the mansion, through a broken door frame. "Let's get away from this opening!" Pearce said, and they all ran into the hallway, starkly lit with electric light. They spotted another door, looked in and saw that it had no windows, so they raced into it. The room was dark, the only light coming from the hallway. But they slammed the door shut as soon as they entered, and were in total darkness. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 9: THE WATERALLIDGE EDGE CHAPTER 2 SR-087 ============================== SRwe002--"Slide" ============================== All three collapsed with fatigue and tried to catch their breath. "I can't believe..." Duncer-Haxun said, huffing heavily, "I can't believe... we made it..." "We got the girls to thank," Pearce said weakly. "Yeah," said Mahoney, "they had it in 'em. I just hope they're alright... what an effort..." They were silent for a long time while they continued to recover. "So where are we?" Duncer-Haxun said, finally. "Ah, who knows!" Pearce responded. "With the way we were mistreated out there... we could be just about anywhere." "I think we're in Tog's Villa," said Mahoney. "I think I caught a glimpse of the stadium back up there somewhere." "Tog's Villa... then... then maybe this house has a link to the underground system?" Pearce said. "No doubt," Mahoney said. "People this rich... their basement is sure to have a link. But we have to get down there first." All of a sudden, the gravity in the room, which had been okay, started to subside and then change. "Dammit!" Mahoney yelled. "Try and find a light switch, someone!" They felt around the walls, searching for a switch to no avail. Then the room became dimly-lit by the light of a flame--Prefer Joanie Hugging had flown out of Duncer-Haxun's pocket and lit herself. "Aw Joanie," Duncer-Haxun said, "come on, don't overexert yourself!" But the feeble light was enough for Mahoney to locate a light switch and snap it on. As he put the sunglasses back on, the gravity disruption subsided and was almost back to normal. Duncer-Haxun picked up Prefer Joanie Hugging, snapped her shut, and said "Thank you, but reserve your energy. Please." Then he put her back in his pocket. In the light, they could see that they were in a recreation room full of arcade video games, their screens all dark. The lower panel of one machine was ripped off. "What's this?" said Duncer-Haxun, kneeling down to examine the opening. "Hmm... it leads back into an opening in the wall..." "A slide to the underground!" Mahoney said. "A great fantasy of children... having a secret exit from their parents' domain... and rich brats usually get what they want!" Mahoney knelt down beside Duncer-Haxun and peered inside. "Let's go," he said, "while we still have gravity on our side--I don't cherish the thought of climbing UP a downward slide!" He crawled inside the opening, followed by Duncer-Haxun and Pearce. Behind the wall, the tunnel made on sharp right turn, then one sharp left, whereupon the slide was revealed, in the dim light of a nightlight. Without saying a word, Perspective Quartz Mahoney seated himself at the top of the slide and pulled himself forward, till he was sliding his way down. The other two did the same, speeding downward through the innards of the long-abandoned mansion... hoping reality would still be there when they hit bottom. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 9: THE WATERALLIDGE EDGE CHAPTER 3 SR-088 ============================== SRwe003--"Inertia" ============================== Sliding, sliding... The sliding was amazing... picking up speed... wonderful curves... cute and crazy lighted backdrops... just the thing for kids... pampered brats of the rich of Tog's Villa... a city now ruined by nature gone haywire... Then, suddenly, Perspective Quartz Mahoney stopped. Just stopped. He was alone and it was silent, inside a huge space full of slides and bright colors. Sitting on the slide, he was motionless. There was no gravity to pull him down. But that wasn't it... that wasn't what felt so horrific... "Inertia!" Mahoney screamed, but his voice sounded tiny and flat. "No more... no more..." He broke out into tears which neither fell nor moved much at all. "It's not fair!" he yelled. "We let nature go too far! We let it get out of control!" He wished his words would echo in that enormous space, but they didn't even come close to an echo. He sniffled a couple of times and then moved to wipe the tears from around his eyes, but totally misjudged it and wound up smacking his other arm. He tried again, trying to compensate for the lack of inertia, and managed to lift his sunglasses, Darnalt Knocking Salt, and smear the liquid around his face a little. Then he held the sunglasses in front of him. "Oh Darnalt, where... what happened to the fun?" The glasses wriggled a little in his weak grasp. "PEARCE! DUNCER!" he moaned, but there was no reply, no echo... Alone. But not alone. Darnalt Knocking Salt was a person, once his woman, now nothing more than a pair of flying sunglasses... and she thought it would be fun... to be sunglasses for awhile... and maybe it was... for awhile... but when she knew for sure she was stuck in that form... it wasn't much fun anymore... "I wish I could have you back as you were..." Mahoney sobbed. "Here at the end of all things... when rogue nature finally wins her war against us... finally wipes out all things human." Omothopberg, the city of men, no women allowed. They were stuck in an alternate reality, and the only way home was deep inside Omothopberg. So the girls used the magic they were so resplendent and pregnant with at the time to disguise themselves as inanimate objects... a cigarette lighter, a belt, a pair of sunglasses... -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 9: THE WATERALLIDGE EDGE CHAPTER 4 SR-089 ============================== SRwe004--"Fun" ============================== The three men had been a little apprehensive at how powerful the girls had become. They were like goddesses or witches, able to make things happen in the blink of an eye... and the men felt weak and insecure in their comparatively powerless state. And the girls made light of it and made fun of the situation and pushed it. Almost toying with them. The huge hulk of a man Pearce Monancahol was shrunken to doll-size by his girl Challen-67. Oily Duncer-Haxun was turned into a monkey by his girl Prefer Joanie Hugging. And Perspective Quartz Mahoney was turned into a giant floating head by Darnalt Knocking Salt. These were just some of the games the girls would play when their power and playfulness were at their peak. And the guys couldn't blame them, because they were wild adventurers with the central mission of HAVING FUN. But Omothopberg changed all that. The girls were still giddy with power and fun when the six found the dimensional warp in the Omothopberg swinging ladders of transport, and they were back to their own world of May Canada. And then the girls found out that their magic was no more, and that they were stuck as belt, lighter, and sunglasses. At first it was fun. Like, the boys making fun of the girls, like, the shoe is on the other foot and all that. But soon the horror of it sunk in, and it all lost its fun, and they realized things wouldn't work out in a fun way as usual. "Darnalt..." Mahoney said softly. "I think we could have stopped the nature lovers, if we had stayed here in May Canada and not gone off adventuring on all those alternate worlds." And Darnalt squirmed in his hands. "FUCK NATURE!" Mahoney bellowed, and he was stunned to hear a hearty echo. He grabbed his right ear and opened it like a door. Inside was a little room, with six tiny people, who were copies of the six adventurers, looking with fright and amazement out of the ear-doorway, the girls fully human. Darnalt Knocking Salt, the sunglasses, leapt into the air with a start. Mahoney giggled insanely and mumbled "Backup copies... backup copies... memory BURIED in the deepest darkest weirdest corners of my mind... memory set loose... by the start OF THE FINISH!" Everything around him began to shake... the slides and the backdrops and the walls and everything... "Darnalt... die, Darnalt... die and make a dimensional doorway... we have no hope... but these backup copies... I made them in a wild dimension two years ago... before Omothopberg and before all of that... become a doorway my love, that I may rip off my head and toss it into a new world, that we all might live again, like it once was, like when it was FUN!" Darnalt Knocking Salt snapped in two and blurred into a pulsating black disk. Mahoney let out a chaotic groan as he ripped off his head and threw it through the circular dimensional portal. He did that just in time. Right after the head passed through the portal, the portal closed and the entire world of May Canada was shredded as the final equations of physics were scrambled by nature, a nature bent on annihilating mankind even if it meant annihilating herself as well. And May Canada was gone, but the six adventurers had escaped, escaped as they always knew they would, to have more FUN. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 9: THE WATERALLIDGE EDGE CHAPTER 5 SR-090 ============================== SRwe005--"Head" ============================== The head landed with a thud in some mud and luckily the ear was facing a good direction. Perspective Quartz Mahoney carefully pushed open the ear, which had shut with the impact of landing. He peered out and saw a forest, and it looked like it had just finished raining hard. "Okay guys," Mahoney said, "don't worry. I know what's happening." He turned around and saw that the five others were shaking in the fright of a realization. "Yes," Mahoney continued, "It's true. I made a backup of us--to me, it seems like I just did it--but that's because I'm the backup I made of myself..." "Look, what are you talking about Mahoney?" Darnalt Knocking Salt said in a shrill tone. "I mean... it was supposed to be a secret... and I guess it was... who knows how much time has passed since I did it?" Duncer-Haxun spoke up. "I remember I was just in a museum... a museum on Alternate World #3... and I remember that YOU were talking to a weird BLUE guy!" "That's right, that's right!" Mahoney said in a conciliatory tone, his hands held out. "That blue guy, Noze-Euming, he offered me a great deal! He told me, see, that he could take a 'snapshot' of all six of us, and imprint it upon my head." "WHAT?" Challen-67 exclaimed. "That's right!" Mahoney said. "He said that he knew, see, that we were WILD. That we liked to have FUN, and that we were in a lot of danger sometimes. SO... Okay, he made the offer and I accepted. He said that anytime we all got killed or something, the backup of us would kick in..." Mahoney pointed to his head. "A kick in my head, if you see what I mean, and bring us all back, exactly as we were that nice day at the museum." "So..." Prefer Joanie Hugging said, "...so we don't get to know, um, like what happened to us after that?" "No we don't!" Mahoney said. "All we KNOW is, see here, we KNOW that we all DIED. And who knows how long it has been. But I think that since we are in my head, we might be able to tell something from my face out there, or something..." Pearce Monancahol shook his head. "So what are we then, Mahoney?" "We are ourselves, ALIVE, see Pearce?" "I SEE that I am inside a giant version of your HEAD, Mahoney. And I also SEE that it's your doing," said Pearce. "But I saved your life! All of our lives!" "How do you know that?" Challen-67 asked. "Because I'm the best there is!" Mahoney responded. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 9: THE WATERALLIDGE EDGE CHAPTER 6 SR-091 ============================== SRwe006--"Noze-Euming" ============================== Mahoney looked around inside his original head. It was like a room... tilted... his original head hollowed out, pink-and-yellow striped wallpaper covering everything... with six folding chairs, tan and metal, scattered on the floor... "Look guys," he said to his five companions, "we gotta stay calm. We gotta get a plan, okay?" "Why did you do this?" Darnalt Knocking Salt yelled. She was an attractive blonde with a black sweater and a weird tattoo around her left eye. "I made my peace with Death, I had some idea of what was coming, and I was kind of looking forward to it!" Mahoney smiled a quizzical smile. "Darnalt, dear, why are you so eager? So eager for it? It will come. Just not prematurely!" "Hey," said Duncer-Haxun, "who's to say that this effect of yours isn't repeating? If we... if we die again, that this won't just happen again? That this might have happened... might have maybe happened many times already? Each time reverting us back... you see... back to the way we were... at museum..." Mahoney raised an eyebrow. "Interesting idea," he said, "but Noze-Euming told me all about that, my friend. He said that it was a one-shot deal. So you needn't worry, Duncer." "Fucked off!" said Duncer-Haxun. "I was looking forward to seeing The Extrant Whore exhibit at the museum. I was just about to go see it!" "Well..." Mahoney said, cocking his head and raising his eyebrows, as if to apologize. Then Prefer Joanie Hugging spoke up. She was a short teenage girl, with freckles, green eyes, red hair and an off-white sweater. "How do you KNOW Mahoney? How could you trust a blue guy like him?" "I know what I do!" Mahoney responded, peering out of the ear-opening, his hand on the edge of the earway. "I wanna know what happened! What happened to us, that we died!" said Challen-67. Her skin was a steely dark gray, her eyes a light gray. She was tall and muscular, looked powerful and statuesque. She wore a brown sweater. Mahoney answered as he examined the scene outside. "Noze-Euming wasn't very clear about that, my dear. As to ascertaining such information." Darnalt approached Mahoney and stood next to him. They both gazed at treetops. "Mahoney," she asked, "I think I heard you talking. Before. It was hazy and unclear. But I heard you talking and I heard my name." He faced her. "Yeah I heard it too. I was telling you to die or something." "Why?" she asked. He turned away. "I don't know. I can't imagine myself saying that. It must have been related to... I must have had to rip my head off and throw it through a dimension door or something. Maybe you had to die to activate the backup mechanism. Something like that." "Well, I guess I did it. I guess I died." "That you did," he replied. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 9: THE WATERALLIDGE EDGE CHAPTER 7 SR-092 ============================== SRwe007--"Spine" ============================== "Well I don't know about you," Prefer Joanie Hugging said, kneeling at the threshold of the head and peering at the ground, "but I'm getting outta this stupid Mahoney head." "Don't forget your great personal folding chair," Challen-67 said in a mocking fashion. "Yeah, those chairs could be our only possessions in this new world," Darnalt Knocking Salt said. "Hey Mahoney, did the blue guy throw those in for free, or did you have to pay for 'em?" "Noze-Euming mentioned nothing about the chairs," Mahoney said. "Look," Duncer-Haxun said, "do any of us have any powers?" "If you had the power," Joanie said, "you'd be French kissing that stupid girl you were gawking at all day." Then Joanie jumped out of the head. "Ow!" she said when she landed. "You okay?" Darnalt asked. "Yeah, yeah, whatever," Joanie said, getting up. Mahoney stood at the threshold, knelt down, and slid partway down the side of the head, and then fell, landing next to Joanie. "See Joanie," he said, "there's a right way to do things. My way." "Whoopie," Joanie said, looking around. "Oh, I get it--this is just the great 'World of Stupidity' ride at the museum. Great." "Would that it were, Joanie," Mahoney said. "Would that it were." "Hey," Duncer-Haxun yelled from above, "Challen opened up the other ear--it leads into a dance club!" "Great," Joanie said. "You guys just hold up," Mahoney said, "I don't want us getting separated." "Hey man, we're just gonna go check it out, we'll be right back." "No, come on now, let's do this the right way!" Mahoney said, but Duncer-Haxun was gone from the threshold, and Mahoney and Joanie heard the distant beat of dance music. "Now that's gross," Joanie said. "I know, they should listen to me!" Mahoney said. "No, not that--this," Joanie said, pointing at the gruesome, bloody neck of the head. "My god--I guess I really did rip my head off! That really is somewhat disturbing." "Nice spine," Joanie said, motioning her head toward a segment of giant spine sticking out. "Thanks a lot." The two walked away from the head a little, checking out their surroundings. "It's... weird..." said Mahoney, "I can't... I can't quite tell the scale... is the head really big... or are we really small?" "I don't know man, but I think I'd be happier in a dance club than here." "Shall I climb into my mouth and grab my gold tooth?" Mahoney said. "A hunk of gold like that could bankroll a whole lot of partying." Joanie rolled her eyes and said "I don't know." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 9: THE WATERALLIDGE EDGE CUPLINE'S END ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 10: QUARREL ORCHARD 5 Chapters--SR-093 thru SR-097 ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 10: QUARREL ORCHARD CHAPTER 1 SR-093 ============================== SRqo001--"Thiffor" ============================== It was 2:03 in the afternoon when Quarrel Orchard came back to be again, in the back seat of a sedan. He had seen fit in the midst of defeat to be gone from the world for 4,121 years. Being returned, Reality was forced to wriggle a bit and create a background for him, as if he were there all along. This Quarrel knew as he sat there, barely looking out at a very sunny parking lot. It felt more like 200,000 years to him than 4,121. Quarrel knew of such as cars and parking lots as these had always been a part of the world, and he remembered them from great great pasts. What is the state of the world, he wondered. What ever became of all my defeated compatriots and vile enemies? It's all settled now, as so much time has passed, but what is the state of things? The physics of Reality's reaction to a prime denizen's return is queer. What specifics had been manifested? Damn if Reality didn't seem to think. As Quarrel was soon to find out, he had the car that he was in, a wallet full of identification, an apartment, a job, and even a family. His name remained Quarrel Orchard, but this identity was only 34 years old. A joke, thought Quarrel. But before he found this all out, Quarrel stepped out of the car, a gold-colored sedan, and walked into the mall that was situated near the parking lot. Inside, there was an area where several trees were planted, and in one of them Quarrel immediately recognized a minor tree-spirit he had once known. "Thiffor, this day a prime denizen returns," Quarrel said softly. "How have you fared these four millennia?" "A nice time," Thiffor said. "Very relaxing. Many many trees to sleep in and hear the murmurs of the doings of man." "Have you recollection of the fate of my compatriots in their defeat of The Affeibe Nest?" "I have some recollection of it. Their hold was loosened on power, their cohesion ruined. They scattered, but some are still about, I guess." "I wonder if I did the right thing, to begone." The tree spirit didn't answer. Quarrel looked around and finally said "How is it you came to be here?" "I wandered here maybe 9 months ago and liked it. Did you reappear near here, Orchard?" "Not one-hundred yards." "These are fine trees, but they never taste the rain." "So you had a feeling about this place?" "Yes, Quarrel. And now it makes sense. The area was being prepared for your return." "Huh," Quarrel said, nodding and looking around. The surroundings were pleasant enough. He was glad it was around tech-level Daytha--he liked that part of the civilization cycle. After a long silence, Thiffor spoke. "Quarrel?" the tree spirit said softly. "Yes?" "I would ask a favor." "Name it." "I would be human." "Aww! No you don't. Why would you want that?" "I just do." "Wow. Time really does change things." "I know. Back when you vanished, I would rather have evaporated than even consider becoming human. But you know--I think the seeds of the idea were there all along." Quarrel nodded and Thiffor continued. "Always the little sting of envy every time I saw young human lovers in their way. Always the forbidden desires to breathe and fear death and hurt and blaze so brightly." "I see," Quarrel said. "And you think I can grant you the humanity you so greatly desire?" Some people passed by and stared at Quarrel talking to the tree. He didn't flinch. "I believe you have the Right to do such a thing, Quarrel. Yes." "Well I haven't." Quarrel stood there silent, still groggy from his return. Finally, Thiffor spoke again. "I have information you might desire. You shall have it in return for Calling me human." Quarrel raised an eyebrow. "Deal-making? From a tree spirit? Hah! Times indeed have changed." "Please," Thiffor said after a pause. "I am desperate." Quarrel let out a sigh. "You want to die that much?" "I want to live. I want to feel life. I want to be involved. I want to BREATHE. If I can die after fifty or sixty years of really being alive... I..." "Enough," Quarrel said. "If I can help you, I will. In return for the information you promised, of course." "Yes." "The information first, though. You might not remember when you become human." "I... well I know I can trust you." Quarrel rolled his eyes. "Okay," Thiffor continued. "Bicker Carbon is alive and well. He is currently a pop music star. The kids around here talk about him all the time. It's been this way for about three or four years." "I couldn't have found that out myself?" "Hear me out. Of course you would have discovered that. But there's something else--something known to very few. In his band--they call it 'Carbon'--there is another member, a collaborator on all the songs." "Yeah?" "Yeah. His name is Rovald Ancien." "That name means nothing to me." "No, but it is not his real name." "What is his real name?" "You promise to call me human?" "Yes, you annoying spirit. Now tell me!" -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 10: QUARREL ORCHARD CHAPTER 2 SR-094 ============================== SRqo002--"Repsille Dant" ============================== "His real name is... Repsille Dant," Thiffor said. "WHAT?" Quarrel Orchard exclaimed. "Yes." "MY Repsille Dant?" "Yes." "How is that possible?" "While I'm not quite sure, I know that after The Affeibe Nest she was Carbon's prisoner. I surmise they eventually fell in love and buried the hatchet. As to why she's male now, I can only guess. To hide her identity, most likely." "I see," Quarrel seethed. "I thought she would have waited for me. Huh. I even thought she might be the wife Reality gave me. But I guess not." Quarrel took out his wallet and looked through the photos it contained. He glanced at the picture of a plain-looking woman, who seemed likely to be his wife, and shrugged. "A few more pieces of information..." Thiffor said. "Yeah?" "Vow Les Couger and Frommy Juncic have an animation studio. They've become fairly popular in their work, and are rumored to be working on a music video for Carbon." "WHAT? Are all of my old allies in league with Bicker Carbon now?" "You'll have to figure that out for yourself. Now..." "Oh yes--turning you into a human. Tell me, Thiffor--you sought me out, didn't you? How did you know it would be this place and time?" "I have my source, but I am bound by the strictest confidence." Quarrel sighed. "Well then, I suppose we should have at it. You know you'll be naked and without an identity, do you not?" "Yes." "Perhaps I should get you some clothes beforehand?" "Something generic. You never know how I'll turn out." "Yeah. I'll go get you a robe or something. But--what will you do?" "I'll get by. I'll adapt. It's what humans do best." "Yeah--but still, you'll need money, references. I guess it'll fall on my shoulders to help you out." "I'm not asking for that, only to be human." "Yeah--but what am I gonna do--leave you in this mall in a robe, with no money and no one to turn to?" "I could get by." "I think you take the human mystique too literally. Yes, struggle and conflict, challenges and figuring out ways to meet them are all key to the human style--but putting yourself into great peril won't always result in a satisfying outcome--you could be killed, be exploited, whatever." "I stand by my position, however. I am asking you for humanity. Anything else you give is up to you." "But knowing my personality, Thiffor, you must know I wouldn't just abandon you. Whatever--let me get you that robe and let's do it." So Quarrel left the tree and walked into a good-looking clothes store. He bought a robe, and marveled at the excellent artwork on the paper currency his wallet held. The girl at the counter looked at him in a funny way, but he shrugged it off. Could be though, he thought, that psychically sensitive individuals could see my aura in crisis, trying to get fully back online after my absence. He returned to the tree and could feel Thiffor's anticipation--it was almost tangible. "You really want this, don't you?" "Yes." "Let me ask you something--how old were you back when I knew you?" "A few hundred years... I... I don't know." "Interesting. All you nature spirits seemed so happy to be as you were. But maybe, after living as one for a good few millennia, you change." "I know I did, Quarrel." "Yeah." He stood, staring at the tree and the spirit inside. Was this the right thing to do? Probably not, he thought. But Thiffor was so anxious, so wanting, that he didn't have the heart to deny the request. "Okay," Quarrel said. "Now remember, I never said I knew exactly how to do this." "I understand." "And if it works, it will be an inevitable death sentence for you, sooner or later." "I accept that whole-heartedly, Quarrel." "Alright then, let's have at it." With this, Quarrel closed his eyes and cocked his head to one side. He felt for his Right and grasped it. It felt good, to feel it so strong so soon after reappearing. He reached out with his Right and engulfed the form of Thiffor. "I grant Thiffor humanity," he said. "Let this spirit become human, right now." For a second it felt to Quarrel that it wasn't working, but then he felt a huge surge of energy pulsing from him to the spirit. He felt control over it for a few more seconds, but then it overtook him, and he became nothing more than a conduit. He felt the bright force rushing into Thiffor, and he wondered if the spectacle was visible to normal people if they happened to be looking his way. Probably, he thought. He opened his eyes and saw a wild firestorm swirling around the tree. He glanced over at some shoppers, and he was startled to discover that the people were indeed staring at the pyrotechnic display. Wow, he thought. Pretty powerful stuff. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 10: QUARREL ORCHARD CHAPTER 3 SR-095 ============================== SRqo003--"Enemy" ============================== Looking back to Thiffor, Quarrel Orchard saw a new form developing--a human one. In a strobed craziness, he saw Thiffor transforming all the way to human. Female, from the looks of it. He'd been wondering how she'd turn out. But now, the procedure was finished almost as soon as it had begun, and Thiffor began to fall forward from her former home in the trunk of the tree. Quarrel caught her and cradled her new, unconscious form in his arms. The special effects slowly receded, flashing and booming occasionally, as he laid the supine form of Thiffor down onto the outstretched robe, which he had set for her. He looked her over. Not bad. She didn't do that bad at all. Her new body was small and trim--and quite attractive. He imagined that standing, she might hit five feet, but maybe not. Long locks of wavy light brown hair fell from her head, partially covering her sweet new face. Her breasts were small and well-formed, and there was a slight tuft of hair on her pubis. Judging her age would have been difficult, Quarrel mused, seeking to block from view the helpless naked body with his own. She could have been in her twenties, but on the other hand, she could have been a lot younger. She began to stir, and Quarrel grasped her hand. Her skin seemed radiant, blooming. Such a beautiful sight, a newly humanized spirit. "I... I... is it done?" Thiffor asked in a soft, girlish voice, much different than the one she had as a tree spirit. "You made out well," Quarrel said, looking into her groggy eyes and smiling. "Hah! Nine months. You said you got here nine months ago. Very appropriate." "Yeah," Thiffor said, laughing a little. "It wasn't intentional, but I see the irony. Wow. This feels even better than I had imagined." She looked down at herself and ran her hand over chest, abdomen, and legs, marveling in the wave of new sensations it gave her. "Thank you," she said. "You have given me a gift greater than any I thought possible." "I've given an immortal the gift of death. And I'm still not sure I did the right thing." "You've given me LIFE. What good is it to be immortal when you exist in a half-conscious daze all the time, yearning to be involved in the affairs of the humans you constantly idolize. I did that for over four-thousand years. And I couldn't take it anymore!" "Okay... okay. It matters little, for there's no turning back now. Come on, get up and slip into the robe. You need a new wardrobe and luckily we're in a mall." Thiffor laughed and made her first attempt to stand. She wobbled a bit and used the wall for support, but otherwise she did pretty well. Quarrel felt good to be watching over such a precious little flower. Sensitivity and sentiment were ever his downfall. That is, whenever he wasn't busy being a total bastard. He helped Thiffor on with the robe, and regarded her. "Remarkable," he said. "You make a fine human." "Thanks." "Now let's get you dressed." "I know just the store!" "You do?" "I've been living here for nine months--I'd better have some familiarity with the place!" "Fair." "So come on. The store is called 'Enemy'--it's the coolest clothes store around!" Thiffor stumbled forward, but Quarrel caught her. "Whoah!" he said. "Take it easy on that new body of yours. You're gonna have it for quite a while, you know." "Yeah," Thiffor agreed, taking hold of Quarrel's arm. "Maybe I'll just lean on you." "Fine." It took them a little while to cross the mall and get to Enemy. They walked inside, and Thiffor broke free from Quarrel and rushed up to a glass counter, using it to help her keep her balance. She looked into the display and a look of pure joy crossed her face as Quarrel approached. "You have no idea what this means to me!" she said, turning to face the warrior. "I've tried to look around in here so many times, but because there's no vegetation, it was all hazy to me. But now--wow! Everything is so sharp and clear and focused and colorful!" Just then, a clerk came up to them behind the counter. She was a heavy girl with a lot of make-up and jewelry on. "May I help you?" "Oh yes!" Thiffor said with great enthusiasm. "I need clothes, and jewelry, and accessories, and all sorts of stuff!" The clerk looked at Quarrel, but he just smiled and shrugged. "Where do you want to begin?" the clerk asked. "Oh, I don't know! There's just so much to choose from!" The clerk wore a puzzled expression, and said, "If you don't mind me asking, what are you doing in a robe with no clothes here at the mall!" "Oh..." Thiffor said, chuckling. "It's so embarrassing." "Hey no problem," the clerk said. "None of my business." "I may as well tell you," Thiffor said, and the clerk's eyes lit up. "I'm pledging a sorority, and one of the hazings I wasn't at all expecting was being left naked and blindfolded in the parking lot of this mall." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 10: QUARREL ORCHARD CHAPTER 4 SR-096 ============================== SRqo004--"Panties" ============================== "Holy crap!" the clerk exclaimed. "Yeah, and if it wasn't for my friend Quarrel here being so nice to me, I'd be in real trouble!" Thiffor said. "I felt so bad for her I offered to buy her a whole new wardrobe," Quarrel said, wondering if it sounded convincing. "Huh," the clerk said. "So what college is this?" "Crelver." "Oh yeah? I go there part time! What sorority?" "Lanajay," Thiffor said without a pause, still smiling. "Wow. I used to know a few girls from there. You know Shavaughn Hooper?" "Yeah--I think she was one of the girls who drove me here. Couldn't tell though, being blindfolded and all." "Wow," the clerk said again. Quarrel was impressed at Thiffor's knowledge of the local surroundings, and her flawless lying. The next couple of hours were spent acquiring a wardrobe for Thiffor. First, Quarrel suggested he buy her something to wear right away, so she wouldn't be so conspicuous. She chose a tan miniskirt, black stockings, and a white button-down shirt. With bra, panties, and socks, she was almost fully dressed. She decided to deal with the shoes later on. When all was said and done, Thiffor had a pile of bags and boxes, which even the powerful Quarrel couldn't carry all at once. He had spent a small fortune on her, and even slipped the clerk a nice tip for being so helpful. They carried the stuff out to his car in several trips. Finally, Quarrel sat in the driver's seat and Thiffor in the passenger seat. "So what do you want to do?" Quarrel asked. It almost seemed like the two were lovers, but such a thing was far from his mind. Quarrel had always thought of Thiffor as male for some reason, though she was sexless as a tree spirit. So this was weird for him. "It's up to you," Thiffor said, looking up at him with bright, innocent eyes. Too innocent, he thought, for a being so ancient. "Then I say you come home with me and live with my family." "There's a family?" "Yeah. Reality was forced to make space for me when I returned. Actuality was jostled a bit to come up with an identity for me, see? And part of that identity is a home and a family." "Yeah I'm somewhat familiar with the phenomenon, but I never quite understood the people part. I mean--where did they come from?" "It's kind of complicated and I don't understand it entirely, but to them, they'll remember me being there for as long as I should have known them. To them it will be totally real. And yes, they are real people." "Wow." "Yeah. So you may as well come home with me, okay? A place to stay, folks to take care of you." "Won't they find it kind of strange you bringing home some young woman out of the blue? How will your wife feel?" "I'll tell them you're a relative--a long lost one. Maybe something like... like the niece I didn't know I had from the brother I didn't know I had. Something corny like that." Thiffor looked out the window as Quarrel started the car. "She won't believe it," Thiffor said. "What?" "The story. It's just such a lie. She'll think I'm your lover and you're trying to get her to accept having me under the same roof." "You know what, Thiffor? I couldn't care less what she, or any of them think. I don't care. I never met these people. You, I've know for a long time--maybe too long. So you take priority." "Wow. Thanks." "We'll deal with it." "Okay." "Okay," Quarrel said, backing out of the parking space and heading for the main road. "So where's your house?" "I have no idea. That's why I got a map while you were shopping. Here, you're the navigator." Thiffor took the map and opened it up. "Wow. Pretty complicated." "Yeah well--you're looking for 800 Stavis Court, in Bomberri Hills. I saw Bomberri Hills on the map, but not the street. I'm gonna head north on Route 8, but after that, I don't know." "Hmm..." "We'll get there. One way or another. We'll get there, Thiffor." She looked up at Quarrel. "I believe you," she said reassuringly. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 10: QUARREL ORCHARD CHAPTER 5 SR-097 ============================== SRqo005--"Introducing" ============================== "Okay, I'm home," Quarrel Orchard said, entering his house. "Hi honey," said Jessica Orchard, his wife, in a matter-of-fact fashion. She was on all fours, cleaning something in a cabinet underneath the kitchen sink, and didn't see Thiffor as she entered behind Quarrel. "What's your name again?" Quarrel asked of his wife. She backed out of the cabinet, blew some hair out of her eyes, and looked up at Quarrel with a confused look. Then she turned her gaze to the beautiful young form of Thiffor. "Huh?" she said. Quarrel stared at her. Eh, all right. She seemed like someone he might marry if he were mortal. Average weight and height, curly brown hair, okay face. Kind of long and leonine, though. Kind of like a hated schoolteacher. "Your name," Quarrel said, not wishing to play the tedious game of pretending he knew her. "What?" she said sharply. "Never mind. Honey, uh, okay--I want you to meet Thiffor," he said. Jessica stood up, took off the ugly rubber gloves she'd been wearing and took a step forward. "Hi," Thiffor said. "H-hi," said Jessica, looking awfully perturbed. "She's my niece," Quarrel said. "Can you believe it? In one day I discover a brother I never knew I had, and a niece I never knew I had." Jessica started to frown as she looked back and forth at the two. She looked like she might be about to cry. Thiffor moved forward and extended her hand. "Glad to meet you," the former tree spirit said, as Jessica limply shook the girl's hand. "What was your name...?" "Jessica," she said, trying half-heartedly to smile. "It's really great of you and Uncle Quarrel to take me in like this. I mean, when I met Quarrel today, I was totally destitute. I had no home, no money--" "What..." Jessica mumbled, looking at Quarrel. "--no clothes," Thiffor continued, a mischievous smile crossing her lips. "Listen Jessica," Quarrel said. "You must bring the entire family in and introduce them to their cousin Thiffor." "Uh, okay..." Jessica said dumbly, as she stiffly turned and left the room. "We were kind of hard on her, weren't we?" Thiffor said. "I don't care. This whole business of getting a free mystery family is totally anathema to me. It's convenient, but I'd rather have just the bank account." "Mmm," Thiffor responded. "So what do you think of the wife?" Quarrel asked. Thiffor smiled. "Delicious." Quarrel rolled his eyes. "Yeah well--be careful how you wield your human sexuality. You can do serious damage to your spirit that way." "So? If I'm gonna die anyway, why not taste everything humanity has to offer." Quarrel thought about it a moment, then turned away. "I don't know," he grumbled. "Do what you want." Just then, the two could hear other voices coming down the hall saying things like "What's wrong?", "Why?", "Come on!", and the like. Soon Quarrel's children were in the kitchen. They stared at him for a moment, then their eyes struck on Thiffor. There were three of them. One boy, two girls. The boy was about 14, awkward, short, curly red hair. One girl looked a little older, and had straight blond hair. Quite attractive. The other was young--6 maybe? With hair similar to her sister's. "Jessica," Quarrel said, "introduce everyone." The kids stared at their father. It looked like they could tell something was different. "Uhh, uhh..." Jessica stammered. "Kids, this is... uh... this is your... cousin... uh... what was it again?" She had put venom in the word "cousin". Thiffor just smiled smugly as she responded. "Thiffor." "Thiffor. Yes. She's a... cousin... we never knew you had. Your father just found her. Somehow." Quarrel smiled. His wife gave him a look of death. She wasn't buying the niece thing, and Quarrel couldn't care less. "Thiffor," Jessica said coldly. "These are your cousins, Tina, Bremmer, and Hi." Tina was the small girl, Bremmer the son, and Hi the older girl. "Glad to meet you all!" Thiffor said, and grinning in her lie, "All these years I knew about you, but I guess you never knew about me." "No," Bremmer said stupidly. "I never heard of it before." Thiffor just kept on smiling. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 10: QUARREL ORCHARD CUPLINE'S END ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 11: CARDBOARD RISING 1 Chapter--SR-098 ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 11: CARDBOARD RISING CHAPTER 1 SR-098 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 43 sr43 11.1--Cardboard Rising -------------------------- ============================== "Monarch Friendly Times," Fry Friend said weakly, "my fries are so cold and soggy... you know what this means... I need new fries... I have so few left." Fry Friend was so exhausted that he couldn't even stand up straight--he was kneeling forward on the marble floor of the Monarch's throne room. His body was a cardboard french fry container, with wide vertical stripes, light blue and white. Arms and legs extended from the box, and his eyes and mouth were on the box itself. Inside of him were eight old and ruined french fries. "Fry Friend, these are difficult times indeed," said Monarch Friendly Times. His light blue and white striped royal garb was tattered and dirty, and he stared at Fry Friend with emptiness in his eyes. "We are all suffering. Yet you come to me... as if you believe I don't know the pain you're in..." Monarch Friendly Times was an old man, his hair long and white, but with a few wisps of blond. His beard was likewise colored and unkempt. The crown on his head was cracked and held together with masking tape. "Monarch... I have always strived to follow and obey you...and I've always trusted you... but it's been so long since I've had fresh fries... the past two years are like a blur..." "You think I'm not aware of this?" "No... but I have to tell you... please, I need new fries... we all know you have... your magic powers... that you're saving them..." "For myself? Is that what you think?" Fry Friend paused--so this was it--he was finally going to be able to bring himself to challenge the Monarch openly. "That is what I think--what we all think!" Fry Friend yelled, followed by a wave of dizziness. So weak... "After all I've done for you..." the Monarch said after a long pause. "You take and take and take from me--with little gratitude--and now, that times are bad, you turn on me." "I never wanted it to get to this point," Fry Friend whispered, hoping the Monarch could hear him. "But I'm afraid... that I just can't go on." "What alternative is there, Fry Friend?" "Just give me new... new fries..." "That is not going to happen." The two were silent for several minutes. It was a terrible silence, a silence which Fry Friend could feel bearing down on him like a dead weight. "If you can't help me..." Fry Friend finally said, "I'm going to follow Onion Ring Friend down the Exit Escalator." The Monarch narrowed his eyes. "I thought you had more sense than that poor idiot Onion Ring Friend." "He knew... he had theories... he thought... that his onion rings were just holding him back from his true potential..." "Onion Ring Friend is dead! He left all his onion rings behind! Do you want to end up like him? Don't kill yourself... I'll get you some new fries... it's just a matter of time." "I... don't believe you. There is no magic in the kingdom anymore. You have the only magic that's left. Maybe you... maybe you're just waiting for us all to die, then you can... then you can have all the magic for yourself..." "Get out of here," the Monarch said. "Your words... you have no more loyalty... go and kill yourself if you want. Go and follow that damn fool Onion Ring Friend. I always knew you two would be traitors. From the time of the beginning--you two were always too free in your thoughts. Burger Friend, Shake Friend, Cookie Friend--they would never speak to me thus." "Only because they fear you. But privately, they hate you. Them, and all the rest. I once feared you... but now, I'm too tired... my being is too weak to support such a stressful feeling as fear..." "Get out of my sight, Fry Friend. And when I next pass by that Exit Escalator, I truly hope to see those eight wretched fries at its mouth... and I'll know I am finally rid of both you and Onion Ring Friend, who have been banes in my side for too long." Tears came to Fry Friend's eyes. They ran down the cardboard of his box, as he stood up with great difficulty. "I never knew you hated me. I... I always thought you loved me, like you love all the others." The Monarch didn't reply, but glowered at Fry Friend with an evil look. Fry Friend breathed heavily as he waited in vain for the Monarch to speak. "I have only one thing to say to you..." Fry Friend finally said. "If I discover that there is life beyond the Kingdom... that my french fries have been holding me back all these years... that you knew all about it, but let me go on suffering... I... I will find a way... I'll find a way... to exact my revenge upon you." The Monarch raised one eyebrow. "If that day ever comes, I will take great pleasure in tearing you apart," the Monarch said. Then, through gritted teeth, "Now get out or I'll demolish you right here, right now." Fry Friend frowned but did not reply, truly fearing for his life. He turned and left the throne room, half expecting the Monarch to strike him from behind. But he got out safely. The only thing on Fry Friend's mind was getting to the Exit Escalator. He had been planning on saying goodbye to all the other Friends, but now he felt an urgency, and decided to take the Escalator before he lost the will to do it. He left the castle by its Forest Entrance and took the winding trail that led to the Exit Escalator. When he was almost there, he spotted Hot Dog Bit Friend lying by the side of the path, either sleeping or dead. His body was a batter-dipped, fried segment of hot dog, the surface of which was dry and cracked and dirty, with eyes and mouth on the surface, and arms and legs sticking out, in much the same fashion as Fry Friend's appendages. "Hot Dog Bit Friend?" Fry Friend said hesitantly. "Are you... are you alright?" Hot Dog Bit Friend stirred and stared up at Fry Friend. "Am I not dead yet?" he said in a hoarse voice. "Not yet." Hot Dog Bit Friend tried to laugh, but wound up coughing instead. "I've been to see the Monarch," Fry Friend said. "Yeah?" Hot Dog Bit Friend said, his eyes red and watery. "I told him what I thought of him. I really gave it to him, all the things I've been wanting to say to him over the years, but never had the courage to. Now he wants me dead. I have no choice, but to follow--" "--Onion Ring Friend?" "Yes." Hot Dog Bit friend looked very sad as he stared up at Fry Friend. "I will miss you, Friend." "And I you." "Is there anything..." "Dog," Fry Friend said after a pause, "I know it's not fair to ask this of you... but I am worried about... the logistics... of what I am about to do. I must take out all my fries before I can get onto the Escalator... and... and from what the Monarch says, if I have no fries left, I will die. I was... I was thinking of throwing the last one away and trying to fall backwards onto the escalator. But I'm not sure I can do it." "I'll help you. Hell, I'd follow you if I could, but I'm all food." "You don't know how much this means to me. If I do succeed, I will find some way to repay you. I promise." "It's okay," Hot Dog Bit Friend said, getting up with some difficulty. "I know I have no future. But if I have the hope that somehow you made it--that you escaped--that I helped you--I will be able to meet my death with a smile." The two walked the remaining distance to the Exit Escalator. It was an escalator in an entrance cut into the side of a cliff face. There was a big "EXIT" sign above it, and below the big sign was a smaller sign which read "NO FOOD ON ESCALATOR". The view down the escalator was obscured by fog about 20 or 30 feet down. "Well, this is it," Fry Friend said, grabbing a fry from himself and tossing it away. Instantly, he felt a wave of fatigue and disorientation. As he threw the next one away, he blacked out momentarily and found himself on his knees, no longer able to support his weight." "God damn it, how did Onion Ring Friend do it?" "I'll help you my Friend," Hot Dog Bit Friend said, and he began taking fries out of Fry Friend. That was the last thing Fry Friend saw, the benevolent visage of Hot Dog Bit Friend taking fry after fry out of him. Five... four... three... two... He blacked out. Then, he slowly began to regain consciousness. At first, all that Fry Friend was aware of was the humming. A deep, mystical, overwhelming hum. Then a blurry sight--gray blobs and landscapes scrolling by. Then pain, wracking his cardboard body. He let out a moan and rubbed his eyes. What was this, a terrible dream? A dream... no... He focused on the gray shapes and saw that they were weird patterns in a rock tunnel... a tunnel slanting downward... The Escalator! He was on the Exit Escalator! And he was alive! He tried to sit up, but lost his balance and went tumbling down the steps of the Escalator, awful pain ringing through his body with every jolt. But finally he managed to stop himself and sit with stability on one of the stairs. "I made it..." he said softly, his voice echoing weirdly. The Escalator had eerie bluish lights every couple of yards, lighting up the tunnel in a bizarre way. He could see nothing but Escalator both up and down. He sighed and stretched out on the stair, trying to relax and find a position where it wouldn't hurt so bad. He smiled and felt around inside himself--no french fries at all. So Monarch Friendly Times was a liar. No fries, and still alive... Wondering how long he'd been unconscious, Fry propped himself up on his side and stared down the neverending shaft. Does it ever end? If not, then Ring was somewhere down there--maybe thousands of miles down. Could I ever reach him, Fry thought, if that was the case? He considered yelling out Ring's name, but he decided against it. No use. It would just be too far. Too far... He lied back down and stared at the pattern of the tunnel wall--somewhat reminiscent of the marble floor in Monarch Friendly Time's throne room, but much sharper and more severe. Severity--now there was something Fry could get into. Everything back in the Kingdom--everything was just so gentle. At least, up till recently, with everyone dying... He wondered whether or not Shake Friend or Pop Friend or Coffee Friend or Juice Friend could make it--they were primarily cups, after all. But no--they didn't have any rebellion in them. And their contents--beverages--lasted a lot longer without replenishment than either his fries or Ring's onion rings. But I'm free, he thought. Free of Monarch Friendly Times and Friendly Times Kingdom. I always knew there was more to my life... Even though he was sore all over, Fry realized that he felt stronger, more vital, more alive than he ever had with french fries in him. They were holding him back. Ring had been correct. He regretted not doing this long ago--to think of all the suffering and despair he had to endure for the past two years... what a waste... It was a year-and-a-half ago that Ring had taken the plunge. Ring was always talking about his weird theories and criticizing the Monarch. Fry was torn. He liked Ring a lot and respected his intelligence, but he also loved the Monarch. And he always feared that the Monarch would discover the terrible things that Ring was saying and that Fry was tentatively agreeing with. But now... it didn't matter anymore... and somehow, Fry knew, he would find Ring, and let him know how right he had been about the Monarch's hidden evil... Yes... yes... Fry then slipped back into unconsciousness. It was a bad time--periods of sleep and disorienting semi-consciousness--and it went on for what must have been days. Then suddenly, after Fry woke up after a particularly nightmare-ridden doze, he realized that he had reached the bottom. He was at the base of the Escalator, one corner of him still barely touching it. He stood up and was glad to feel that his pain was pretty much gone. He was in a dark, enclosed space--the only light coming from the last few lights of the Exit Escalator. He could make out a number of abandoned storefronts lining the walls of the chamber. He took a few steps away from the Escalator and then he spotted it--a few paces away--a napkin with writing on it. He approached the napkin and saw that "FRY" was written on it in red crayon. Had he a heart, it would have raced as he unfolded the napkin and read the scrawled message... Fry, I knew you'd make it someday. I was right about all this, as you see. I've searched the entire area and found little of any interest--except the Friendly Times restaurant, which you can find down the corridor opposite the E. E. It's what I always thought--we were the archetypes for a chain of fast food restaurants. Anyway, it gets very dark past the restaurant, but it's the only way out as far as I can tell, so that's where I'm headed. I found the crayons and napkin in the restaurant. I'm taking some with me, so I'll leave you other messages, if I can. But it's on into the darkness for me. I hope to see you again someday, my friend. --Ring P.S. Sorry I didn't say goodbye when I left, but that's the way things go. Fry looked up from the letter, his mind buzzing. The restaurant... he had to see the restaurant... and then, he too would have to face the darkness. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 11: CARDBOARD RISING CUPLINE'S END ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 12: FOOLWARD OAK 9 Chapters--SR-099 thru SR-107 ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 12: FOOLWARD OAK CHAPTER 1 SR-099 ============================== SRfo001--"Zoipin Jurple Jupter" ============================== "Always make yourself scarcely see an issue," said Baw Veppen as she stared out over a deep green sea on a fine windy sunny day. "What?" asked Norlime Eckert, also staring out from the ship, Urbandersnacheron IV. Veppen did not answer Eckert, but rather squinted her eyes in deep emotional memory. Some lazy splashing moments expired. "My mother," Veppen said, "used to tell me that when I was very young. Before she died." "Your mother?" asked Norlime. "My mother. That's what I said, Norlime. My mother." "Oh." Eckert turned his head and looked at Veppen, taking in the sight of her. She seemed an Native American of some sort. A few inches below six feet, with golden brown skin, straight long black hair, a handsome and stern face, rarely crossed by humor, and a strong straight nose. Her dress was ancient. Leather, beads, geometric patterns. Simple yet elusive. He knew she was a failed messiah of sorts among her people. But to him, there was a sobering air about her. Baw Veppen. "Eh Baw," Norlime said after turning his head back towards the sea, "looks to me like you understand this sea somehow. I don't." Veppen let out a long sigh and spoke. "This sea is just a part of our imagination. An illusion like the rest of the world. But a nice illusion." "Looks real enough to me." "Looks. Yes, it looks real. But think -- a sea in a dream seems as real while you're dreaming." "I guess." They were silent a while. Then Eckert spoke again. "But, y'know Baw, this isn't a dream. It's reality." Veppen looked over at Eckert with a somewhat puzzled and amused look on her face, thinking. Soon she spoke. "That's a... strange viewpoint, Norlime, considering you're a crewmember on a huge pirate ship which travels regularly to different worlds--not to mention the fact that your DNA has traces from two ancient gods at odds with one another. Reality? Dreams are tame compared to this." She smiled briefly, looked away, then looked back at Eckert and said "Huh?" "I see your point, but... even though all the stuff going on is... I dunno--weird, I guess--it still seems like reality--the reality I'm used too. Y'know, it feels like reality." "Hmmm," Veppen said. She looked at Eckert briefly. He was a little shorter than her, 5'6" or 5'7". He was in his mid-thirties, but had a mass of pure white hair on his head. His face was average-looking, but he had a generally forlorn look, and wide, mournful eyes, making him seem childlike. His build was somewhat heavy, and he wore a gray T-shirt and brick-colored pants. He was apparently a loser most of his life, never accomplishing much, and living with his parents his whole life save for a few years. There was something special about him, however--he had two gods as ancestors, and these two gods hated each other with a passion equal to that of all the love in the world. On his mother's side, hundreds of generations removed, was Spreamegong, the god of politics. On his father's side, likewise hundreds of generations removed, was Bhonivoshok, the goddess of discipline. The two warred for centuries, as legend has it, then finally destroyed each other--taking a continent along with them! Apparently, Norlime Eckert was the only human being ever who possessed genetic traces from both deities. This fact didn't seem to affect Norlime very much. The only strange thing he could think of about himself was that he had some weird dreams as a child. Nothing else, though. Then Veppen looked back towards the sea. A minute later, one of Veppen and Eckert's crewmates, Zoipin Jurple Jupter, came up to them. He was a seven-and-a-half foot tall, extremely thin bird fellow, who wore loosely draping clothes (a vest, among other things), and a lazy wide-brimmed hat. He spoke in a deep, quiet, reserved voice. "Hello Norlime. Hello Baw." "Hello Zoipin" Veppen said. "Hi," Eckert said. "We're bridgin' in a few minutes," said Jupter. Eckert looked at his digital watch and nodded. "Oh yeah I forgot what time it was," said Eckert. "Do they want us to go below deck for this one?" "Naw," Jupter said. "Just talked to Svor, and he said the weather looks pretty good there. And the air pressure's reasonably similar to this one." "Huh," said Eckert. Jupter moved to the edge of the ship next to Veppen and stared out, as the other two were doing. "So did you hear about the Earth we're goin' to?" Jupter asked. "Yeah," Eckert replied, "like isn't it that Arch Bedew Earth we heard about at the meeting?" "Yup that's the one," Jupter said. "Supposed to be pretty nice," said Eckert. "Yup," Jupter said. Some beige clouds started to pass in front of the sun. "Baw..." said Jupter. "Yeah, Zoipin?" "This is one of those out-of-the-place things I say sometimes--the sun isn't happy." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 12: FOOLWARD OAK CHAPTER 2 SR-100 ============================== SRfo002--"Toggle Joseph" ============================== Bellicose Billion and Norlime Eckert sat on the small hill in the atmospheric forest. Billion, a moody largish fellow, was on his side toying with a daisy. Eckert, a worried-looking everyman, lied on his back with his hands behind his head. Neither spoke. Soon a weird-looking youth with yellow-brownish skin came up to them. It was the annoying Toggle Joseph. "Hum feedle trip!" Joseph burst. "Play elsewhere, brat," Billion murmured. "Selly belly..." Joseph said, his crossed eyes making him seem in a distant mental state. "Take off," Billion said as if in a dream. Joseph swayed in place for a few moments and then leapt to the ground and curled himself into a fetal position. Then he began singing in a yell. "I am the butcher of Wilson Town! I chop up a pig to make you frown! Pee pee poo poo I am a clown! Bown sown chown nown bown stoopoostowm!" Eckert lifted his head and glanced at the boy. For several moments Eckert looked as if he were going to say something, but he decided against it. He then went back to his original position. There was silence for a while, save for some distant birds chirping their songs. Then a gentle breeze came up, and Bellicose Billion began looking around. "This is maybe a too-pleasant here. Eh Norlime," Billion said. "Yeah mmm hmmm, sure," Eckert replied. "I mean, the sun is just delicious, the smells an exciting pungent bliss," Billion said with some emotion. "I like it cuz I need a little rest," Eckert said without much thought. "Bloop bloop bloop..." Billion muttered lowly as he continued lazily playing with the daisy he held. The breeze picked up a bit and the leaves on the trees shimmered in sound and light. Toggle Joseph then started to make buzzing and popping noises with his mouth. "Quite an engine you make, Joe," Bellicose Billion said. "I'd like to stuff you in a car." "Hoo!" Joseph yelped. Norlime sat up and stared down at the ground to his right. "Hey Bill," he said. "As always," Billion responded. "Yeah, I mean, oughtn't we be getting back? Soon? How long are we here anyways?" Eckert said. "Oh time," Billion said. "Time is bent under the foot of the bridger. We don't really exist--did you know that Norlime?" Toggle Joseph began to flail around convulsively in the fallen leaves. "Oh we exist all right," Eckert said. "If we didn't how could I beat this queer lad such!" With that Eckert leapt forward and grabbed Joseph, tickling him. Joseph squirmed and laughed an odd laugh loudly. "Stars above take me!" Billion announced as he tossed the flower away and fell onto his back, arms outstretched. Eckert continued to tickle Joseph, who was starting to appear to drool. Then Ow Muchy Moyar, an attractive black girl in a gray dress, walked up to the small hill along with Dandy Banish, a short, plump, cutish girl in a navy blue sweatsuit with white lettering. "Look at these fine sailors!" Moyar stated in a sophisticated sounding voice. Eckert stopped tickling Joseph and looked up in a somewhat embarrassed expression. Joseph returned to a fetal position and burbled. Banish giggled. "How ya doin', Belly?" "Dandy Banish I banish you to..." Billion said in a singsong manner. Moyar strolled over to the hill and sat down in a formal fashion. Banish started to walk around the hill, clapping her hands with straightened arms alternately in front and in back of her. Eckert returned to sit upon the hill once again. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 12: FOOLWARD OAK CHAPTER 3 SR-101 ============================== SRfo003--"Ow Muchy Moyar" ============================== "I saw your macrame, Norlime," Moyar said as she looked over at Eckert. "Oh yeah really?" Eckert said quickly, looking at Moyar. "Yes it's quite nice. A fine job, in fact. Quite attractive in that foyer," Moyar said. Eckert looked down and blushed visibly. "Oh it was nothing, y'know, just something I learned at camp." Moyar smiled and nodded her head, looking down at the ground distantly. Banish was meandering around some nearby trees as the breeze changed direction and got palpably warmer and different. "Norlime loves you, Muchy, if you don't know," Billion said matter-of-factly. "Oh god..." Eckert began, looking up at Billion. "Well it's true, isn't it?" Billion asked. Eckert shrugged in a defensive manner, mouth open and with a martyrish expression, seeming on the verge of saying something. "Come Norlime, tell me more," Moyar said in an exaggeratedly flattered manner. "Ho jeez," Norlime said. "I mean... I never..." "Toupee!" Toggle Joseph blurted out from his fetal ball, in a loud voice. The sound of it seemed to echo briefly. Ow Muchy Moyar turned towards the boy and said "I see Joe's in a good mood today." "Indeed--indeeeeeeeeeed," Billion said. "Hey Muchy!" Banish said from the other side of the hill. "Yes Dandy?" Moyar asked. "Didn't Ky say there was a little house that monsters live in somewhere in these woods?" Banish said. "I do believe she mentioned something of the sort. Why? Would you like to go on a hunt for it?" Moyar said. "Sure, I'd be game. How 'bout you Belly? Nor? Joe? Wanna go on a monster hunt with us?" Banish said. "A monster hunt, how gauche," Billion said dryly. "That sounds like a great idea. I've always wanted to see a monster," Eckert said, glad to find a diversion to the issue of his love for Ow Muchy Moyar. "You mean other than Caff?" Moyar said. Norlime laughed and nodded his head. "Or Vlad for that matter." "But of course," Moyar responded. Eckert clapped his hands and stood up. "Well, shall we be off?" "What of our little Toggle?" Moyar asked. Eckert walked over to Joseph, knelt down, grabbed the boy's arm, and began to lift him up. Joseph twisted about, breaking the grip, and fell back to the ground like a rag doll, giggling. "Come now, boy," Eckert said as he tried again, only to have Joseph twist and fall again, giggling uncontrollably at this point. He tried several more times without much luck. "He seems incapable of walking, I fear," Eckert said with a smile. Moyar smiled also, and began walking in the direction of Eckert and Banish. "Be on yours merrie way," Billion said, still lying on his back. "I'll tend the brat for now." "You're in a mood Bill," Moyar said wryly. "Sip..." Billion muttered. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 12: FOOLWARD OAK CHAPTER 4 SR-102 ============================== SRfo004--"Mistress of Slumber" ============================== Banish walked over to Eckert and Moyar as the warm wind picked up a bit. "I don't like this breeze. It's heavy and mean," Moyar said. "Yeah it's queer," Eckert added. "Well, where do we start?" Banish asked. Eckert looked vaguely puzzled and Moyar seemed momentarily lost in thought. "Dandy," Moyar asked finally, "when was the last time you saw Yaude and Kove?" "Dunno," Banish said. "A day or two back I guess. Not surprising with those two." "No, but..." Moyar said, still seeming in a lightly disturbed think. "I saw Kove last night," Eckert said. "In the kitchen. He was gathering a load of victuals, and all he said was 'Just stealing some food.'" "Huh..." Moyar said, nodding. "Why, is anything the matter?" Eckert asked. "No. Not really. But... I saw a gleam in Kove's eye when Ky Ly mentioned the monster house. And with his and Yaude's proclivity to... er..." Moyar trailed off searching for the right words. "...to inhabit obscure spots in which to copulate with each other," Billion said in an even tone. "Yes. Thanks Bill. So you see what I mean?" Moyar asked. "Hmmm..." Eckert said. "Likely," Banish said decidedly. "But I wonder what became of the monsters." "Skewered," Eckert said authoritatively, nodding his head. "Skewered. That Kove Splate is a sicko with that sword of his. Sick." Moyar nodded her head, smiling. "Now Muchy my eyes are closed but I can almost hear your brain," Billion said. "If you've in mind what I guess then I might find the vim to rise from my swaying sweet repose." "Hell it is tempting," Moyar said. Dandy Banish smiled. "What?" Eckert asked. "Practical joke, sap," Billion said. "Ohhhh..." Eckert said. "We could do the dream thing," Banish said. "The dream thing?" Eckert asked. "The dream thing..." Billion echoed. "Yes Nor, the dream thing," Banish said. "Where Muchy puts the two in a dream and us too, where we all become whatever we wish." "You're talking about a sort of shared dream?" Eckert asked. "Yes, as a Mistress of Slumber I have a heavy dominion over dreamworld. Hm! I can think of a good theme or two for them!" Moyar said. "I knew you could make people sleep," Eckert said. "Yes," Moyar responded. The wind died down to almost nothing. Toggle Joseph began making vague hyperactive growling noises in short bursts. Bellicose Billion sat up, groaning as if it were a supreme effort. "I'm game," Billion said, suddenly jumping to his feet. His long black hair lopped all over his face. Ow Muchy Moyar looked around for a few seconds, and then said "Right. We're off." They started walking off into the woods. "What of Joe?" Eckert asked. Moyar looked at the boy's limp form sprawled across the ground, a twisted smile on his face. "Oh, I'm sure Toggle will be fine lying here all alone in the middle of the forest," she said as she winked at the others, who nodded as they continued walking. The four of them continued on, looking back periodically to check if Joseph had come into tow with them yet. As they got a good distance away, Joseph sprang up, smiling, and began to lope towards them in wild strides, screaming like a drunken banshee the whole way. Soon, he caught up with them and fell into a more normal stride as he ceased his bellowing. "Glad to see fear is still the universal motivation," Billion said plainly. "We'll give Yaude and Kove a very nice surprise, I think. A very nice surprise," Moyar said slyly, as the five of them strode onwards into the woods. Norlime Eckert, Dandy Banish, Bellicose Billion, Ow Muchy Moyar, and Toggle Joseph were a happy little band ambling pleasantly through the forest on a beautiful day. Beautiful, that is, except for an oddly oppressive warm wind from the south. "So where can we find this little... house?" Eckert asked Moyar. "Oh I don't know. But I'd think five powerful persons such as ourselves shouldn't have much trouble if we walk around for long enough," Moyar responded. "Yeah, powerful," Eckert quipped sarcastically. "Well we are, Norlime," Banish commented. "I mean, does the average person wander around exotic alternate universes such as we do?" "I didn't even know about all this crap about universes and stuff for most of my life," Norlime said. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 12: FOOLWARD OAK CHAPTER 5 SR-103 ============================== SRfo005--"Tree" ============================== "Oh come now," Billion said to Eckert, "you were somehow chosen Primate by Overwhelm as--how do they put it--"the most outstanding personage on your Earth"--just as we all were. So you must have known something." "Yeah well all I know is that story they told me about being a distant descendent of a goddess on my father's side and a god on my mother's side, and these two gods hated each other and killed each other and that I was the only human on Earth with the... DNA... or rather the trace of both their DNA's in my... my body." Toggle Joseph was spinning around and making low moaning noises as he walked along. "Stooom! Stooom! Brooooooom!" he kept repeating. "But didn't you ever notice any godly powers?" Billion asked Eckert. "No, nothing at all. I had weird dreams when I was a kid, but otherwise I can't think of anything strange." "Well," Billion said, "these 'Overwimp' higher-ups work in strange ways. Never quite understood it myself. P-Vest and all that." He paused for a moment, and then added, "Right on target when they chose me, of course." Then he laughed a sarcastic little laugh. "Oh but of course, but of course your highness, the great Sir Belly," Banish said. "Ho ho," Billion responded. They continued walking without talking for a while. Joseph crawled along on all fours and shook his head from side to side, growling, as if he imagined himself some great cat. After a few minutes, the woods were getting noticeably thicker and darker, and the warm wind was as heavy as ever. They continued walking for quite some time. Then Bellicose Billion stopped and spoke. "I'm not sure we're making much progress, girls. What say we... elaborate... on our game plan. Hmm?" "I tend to agreed with you, Bill," Moyar said. "And therefore--what do you suggest?" "Oh the pressure!" Billion lamented. Banish walked over to Joseph, who was still on all fours and staring down at the ground, motionless. She knelt down and lifted him up into a sitting position. He looked at her with his trademark crooked smile and crossed eyes. "Hey Joe," Banish said, "you're supposed to be so wise, whatta we do now, hey?" Joseph cocked his head slightly and stared at Banish, a vague gleam of admiration in his eyes. Then he slowly brought his right hand upwards and pointed toward the sky. Then he spoke. "Looky looky look, up in the air, pee pee man! See the monster house and poo poo in it!", Joseph said, and then he fell over onto his side and began laughing. Banish looked up at the others. "That's not a bad idea," she said. Ow Muchy Moyar looked up slowly, shielding her eyes with her hand. "Well it's a good idea if we can get up there. Can any of us fly?" Moyar said. "I don't think so," Banish said. "No I guess not," Moyar said. "Wish I could," Billion added. They walked around in lazy circles for several moments, thinking. "What about superstrength?" Moyar finally said. "Brilliant," Billion said. "We could climb one of the taller trees, if any of us have any left that is." "I got some," Eckert said then. "Enough to climb a tree?" Banish asked. "Yeah, sure," Eckert said. Billion walked over to Eckert, put his arm around his shoulder, turned him around, and started walking towards a huge tree. "Well my fine man, here's your tree!" Billion said in an overly dramatic fashion. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 12: FOOLWARD OAK CHAPTER 6 SR-104 ============================== SRfo006--"Coaster" ============================== Bellicose Billion stepped back as Norlime Eckert looked up at the tree, which was several hundred feet tall. He put his hands on his hips as he gazed. "S'matter Norlime, 'fraid a heights?" Dandy Banish asked. "Ehhh... no. Just a funny idea, that's all. Guess I can... thrust my fingers into the wood for... handholds... y'know..." Eckert said. "Yes no problem, now get going won't you? We haven't all day and I'm bored as it is," Billion said in a mock irritated manner. "Cool your jets, ya harpshihairhead. I'm just getting psyched to do it, y'know," Eckert replied. "The squirrels are looking forward to you Norlemonmerangue. Ready to stuff nuts into your ears," Billion said. "Funny Vericose Killion, very funny," Eckert said. Suddenly Toggle Joseph burst into song. "Brandy and rum! Brandy and rum! Sixty-million jugs on a rug a tug tug! Steen! Steen! Tome a rumlit lettras skiing the breeeeeeeze! Cajue!" Then suddenly, Norlime yelled "Super!" and jumped onto the tree. A great leap at least twenty feet, fingers digging into the bark, feet thrusting into wood, shoes and all. He clambered up as fast as could be, and was soon lost in the lofty treetops. "He did that well," Ow Muchy Moyar commented. "How wery vell indeet," Billion added. Up at the top of the towering tree, Norlime Eckert hung, clinging with superstrong fingers dug into bark and wood. He surveyed a breathtaking landscape of green hills, distant mountains, meandering rivers, and the like--all beautifully lit in the late afternoon sun. In the distance he could just barely make out the shoreline and a tiny dot which must have been the Urbandersnacheron IV, the pirate ship on which he and his friends were crew members. They were taking a well-deserved shore leave from their duties, on this utopian world of Furnace Woven Earth. Turning his attention to the forest below, Norlime Eckert immediately reasoned that there was no way to see even the ground, let alone a house of little monsters, being that the canopy of trees was so thick. He cursed mildly and was about to jump back down, but then he spied a bare upwisp of smoke in the distance, a mile or two to the southeast. After mentally marking the spot, Eckert summoned an extra burst of superstrength and push himself forcefully away from the tree, falling backwards. He figured that with the power of his launch, he would land hundreds of feet from the others. "Look out below!" he yelled, his voice loudened to a thundering by the superstrength. As he flew backwards and down, brushing against a tree here and there, he was reminded of the favorite roller coaster of his youth at Chaosatteer Pier. It's funny, he briefly thought, to think of one's childhood whilst plummeting in an alternate world. Soon he landed with a loud thud, stirring up leaves and knocking down a small tree which was in his path, as well as leaving a small crater in the moist earth. An unquestionably fatal fall in his normal state, it hardly knocked the air out of him while under the effects of the Overwhelm-supplied superstrength. Norlime Eckert then stood up, brushed himself off, and began walking back to the others, a broad smile on his face. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 12: FOOLWARD OAK CHAPTER 7 SR-105 ============================== SRfo007--"Go Go Go" ============================== "I've seen a shooting star, but a shooting Norlime? Never!" Bellicose Billion said wryly. "Hey don't knock it till you've tried it," Eckert replied. "Well?" Ow Muchy Moyar asked. "Any luck? Hmm?" "Yes and no," Norlime replied. "Couldn't really see anything on the ground, but I did see a trail of smoke rising, about two or three miles thataway," he said as he pointed toward the southeast. Toggle Joseph stood up suddenly from his lying position as if a marionette suddenly jerked to life. He just stared off into space, however. "Two or three miles?!? Are you mad?" Billion said incredulously. "Well that's all I got," Eckert replied, shrugging his shoulders. "Too bad Eddie's not here," Dandy Banish offered. "He could probably whip us each a dirt bike from that coat of his." "No use crying over spilt iodine..." Moyar said distantly. "Aw c'mon, what's a couple a miles to such 'powerful' beings as us? Hey?" Eckert asked. "Well it'll be dark in a hour or two," Moyar said. "And we don't want to be lost in the woods at night. Who knows what beasts lurk these trees?" "Go go go!" Toggle Joseph said quickly, while remaining perfectly still. "Well he's the wise one," Billion noted. "What the hell. Let's go." "What about the fall of night, Belly?" Banish asked. "Oh screw the veil of stars!" Billion exclaimed. "Doesn't anyone have a good enough supply of superstrength to carry the rest of us?" "Not me, I'm worn out from that tree," Eckert said. "I'm afraid I'm dreadfully low myself," Moyar said. "Ditto for me, too," Banish said. "And I'm about out myself. All that leaves is..." Billion said as they all turned their attention towards Toggle Joseph, who grunted briefly but remained motionless. "How 'bout it Joe? You got enough?" Banish asked the odd youth. Joseph stumbled briefly, turned around, walked up to a medium-size tree, wrapped his arms around it, and with barely an effort, uprooted the damn multiton thing. He then brought it slowly down into a horizontal position, and then pressed it into the ground with such force that it broke in two. Then he lifted the massive thing above his head, looked up, and smiled at the others. "I guess that's your answer, Dandy," Moyar said. "Come on, let's get on!" With that Joseph lowered the tree as the four clambered up onto it. When they were settled, Joseph lifted it above his head again and began to run southeast at superstrength speeds. "The only way to travel," Billion commented. They rode onwards through the forest, sideswiping a tree here and there, as Toggle Joseph continually had to alter his course to avoid hitting other trees. The four were hunched over and trying to protect themselves. A few minutes passed like this, with nothing said. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 12: FOOLWARD OAK CHAPTER 8 SR-106 ============================== SRfo008--"Just Hat It" ============================== "I hope we're going the right way!" Moyar yelled. "'The right way'?!? Did you say 'the right way'? Ha ha! Ha! That's a good one, Moyar. Ha!" Billion yelled back. "Well, I do hope we're going the right way," Moyar responded. "We're going the right way, aren't we?" Eckert asked. Nobody answered. "Well aren't we?" he repeated. "If we are I'll eat my hat," Billion responded. "You haven't one," Banish commented. "I've a few back at the ship," Billion said. "Then a fine feast you'll have of them!" Moyar yelled. "Heh?" exclaimed Billion. "Look!" said Norlime. "Look up there! A little fire! That must be where the smoke I saw came from!" "Indeed," Billion said dryly. Toggle Joseph stopped about a hundred yards away from the little fire, which appeared to be a campfire, and put down the tree with a thud. The other four got off. "What's that by the fire?" Norlime asked. "I can't tell," Moyar said, placing her hand to her forehead. "Only one way to find out," Billion said. "But that's not a house so we haven't come the right way after all, so we'll have no need for 'hat' cuisine, I don't think." "But Belly," Banish said "that's the smoke Nor saw--so we did come the right way after all, hateater !" "I just 'hat' it when you say things like that," Billion said as they began walking towards the campfire. "Ugh! Another quip like that and you'll likely put us all in the hospital!" Banish said to Billion. "And all this time I thought you 'hat' a sense of humor!" Billion said. With this Dandy Banish clutched her hands to her chest, contorted her face, and made fake gagging noises. "Ho ho," Billion said. So they walked toward the campfire. "What the hell is that?" Eckert asked, squinting ahead at the campfire. "Looks like some--people or something sitting around it," Moyar said. "No, I don't think they're people" Eckert said. "Well, what are they then?" Dandy Banish asked. "Oooooooooooooh, I know!" Billion said after they got a little closer. "What?" Norlime asked. "But you'll have to free me from my oath to eat my hat..." Billion said baitingly. "We'll know soon enough!" Banish said. "But if it'll make you feel better--" she walked in front of Billion, turned around, walked backwards, matching his pace, then held her arms out and shook them and said "walla ba blooey!" then fell back into a normal pace . "You're freed from eating your hat. Happy?" "I'm ecst-'hat'-ic!" Billion said. Banish began to cry a fake, exaggerated cry. "Okay troops..." Norlime said, "...look. They're creatures of some sort." "Of course!" Billion yelled very loudly. "They were driven from their homes by Kove and Yaudey!" With this outburst one of the creatures looked up, albeit lethargically and apathetically, and then looked down again, stoking the fire with a stick. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 12: FOOLWARD OAK CHAPTER 9 SR-107 ============================== SRfo009--"Five Monsters" ============================== There were five monsters sitting around the campfire. They all had pale-blue fur, but otherwise seemed to be like large bipedal lizards with twisty black horns. There were three big ones and two little ones. They looked quite dejected. As the party arrived at the campfire, one of the monsters looked up, saw the group, rolled its eyes, sighed, and looked generally annoyed. "Excuse us," Moyar said. "We're, uh, wondering if, uh..." "Let me take care of this, Ow Muchy," Billion said as he stepped forward. "Now, ahem, were you turned out of your house by two kooks the other day?" "Yes," one of the larger monster said in a depressed and annoyed tone. "Very good," Billion said. "I... I mean, very bad. Yes, very bad. My, it looks like you have a nice 'hat' fire there!" "Belly!" Banish yelled. "Heh, sorry, I forg-'hat'!" Billion said. Banish made a stupid look on her face and pretended to throw up. "Now, may we introduce ourselves?" Moyar said to the monsters. "There may be no need," another of the monsters said. "Those two came in and were as cordial as could be--then they started talking--for hour upon hour--until we couldn't stand it anymore--so we left--we just escaped--here, into the woods--to get away from them..." the monster said. It seemed to be beside itself in irritation. "Looks like they used extroversion as their tool of exile this time," Moyar commented. The others laughed a little. "Well, uh, monsters, uh, may we join you?" Norlime asked. "Only if you don't talk," one of the monsters said. "Agreed," Moyar said. Billion then laughed a sinister little laugh and rubbed his hands together as he sat next to one of the child monsters. Then they all sat, silent, for a little while. "Uh," Norlime finally said, "uh, sorry for talking and all, but, all I wanted to say was that we can get those two out of your house for you, if you want, you know." All the monsters smiled. "Oh really," one of the larger monsters said. "Yeah, uh..." Norlime said, looking around at his cohorts for encouragement, "...we can get'em out gang, right?" Billion put his hand to his chin in an exaggerated 'deep-in-thought' look. Then he spoke in a shrewd voice. "Eh... now that would depend upon, eh, what's in it for us..." Then Banish and Moyar both let out annoyed "oh"s. "That's real nice," Banish said to Billion "trying to extort money from these poor monsters. Sheesh." "Ah," one of the monsters began "we don't mind paying you, if it's a reasonable offer." "See?" Billion commented. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 12: FOOLWARD OAK CUPLINE'S END ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 13: FRIEND IS TAR MONORAIL 6 Chapters--SR-108 thru SR-113 ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 13: FRIEND IS TAR MONORAIL CHAPTER 1 SR-108 ============================== SRft001--"Alva Neon" ============================== Alva Neon looked up and saw a green skyscraper. He marveled at this sight, and continued to walk without looking where he was going. Two garbage cans blocked his path and he stumbled into them. He did not fall, but tried furiously to regain his balance. As he did this it looked like some wild dance. Finally he just fell. He didn't get up, however, because the sidewalk was so comfortable. Soon a huge black bus pulled up and stopped. The doors opened and Alva Neon looked in. The bus driver stared at Alva with glowing green eyes. Alva was so spooked that he got up and ran. Around the corner he went, and slammed right into this big guy. He was bald and had golden skin. "Sorry, Mac," said Alva Neon, and he continued to run. Soon he got tired and slowed down. A bit later he saw the nation's flag hanging outside some bank or something and he stood in silent reverence for a good while. Then he continued his walk. There was this dog on a leash, and a lady was taking him for a walk. As Alva Neon passed them, the dog barked at him. "Shut up, you! Ha! Ha!" said Alva. The lady walked a little faster to get away from this crazy dude. Alva sort of walked around in circles until the lady was out of sight, and then he dug into the pockets of his dirty old jacket. Presently, he produced a big black magic marker. He looked around to see if anyone was watching. If any cops saw him, he'd be in big trouble! The coast was clear, so he wrote on a wall: "ALVA NEON WUZ HERE!" He giggled uncontrollably to himself and ran off. Eventually he came to a corner where an old blind man was, a man even older than Alva. The blind man had a long white beard and he was begging for money. "Are you blind?" asked Alva. "Yes. I am blind," answered the blind man, calmly. "Why are you here?" asked Alva. "Because I need money to eat," the old man said. Alva checked in his pockets and found that he, too, had no money. He stood there quietly, thinking, and then said "Silly man! You cannot eat money! Ha! Ha!" Alva Neon then ran off again. Soon after, he stopped and sat down. He heard thunder and it started to get windy. Papers flew by and he caught one. It was old and wrinkled. Alva squinted and began to read it. It said: "A young man sat in his college dorm room trying to think..." Alva put it down. HE had been a young man once. He had been rich and famous and happy until one day long, long ago. It began to rain as he remembered. It was summer, and it was hot. Alva Neon was in the train house with his monkey, Foxxo, on his shoulder. He was making final checks on good Old Number 55. She was the fastest engine in the world and Alva had proven that in the many races he had won. Today, though, he would face his toughest opponent to date. The man's name was Ivan Isotope, and his engine was called the Brass Bullet. He was a rising star in the world of train racing, and today he would challenge Alva Neon for the championship. Isotope was a tall man who always smiled and looked as if he were keeping some big secret. He had a German shepherd named Mister King, who was his sidekick. Alva put his engineer's cap on and went outside. He was a short man, but he had a handsome, brave face. A crew of reporters greeted him and asked him his opinion of the day's race. Before he could answer, however, Foxxo jumped onto an attractive female reporter and kissed her. The poor woman fainted and Foxxo smiled and screamed in simian glee. "Uh, sorry about that," Alva started, "but back to the race. I've faced many opponents in my time, and Old Number 55 has always made it. I have no doubt that she can do so again today." But Alva did have doubts. His engine was fast, but Isotope's Brass Bullet just might have been faster. The idea of losing the championship was inconceivable to Alva Neon. He had to do something, and he did. The reporters left, and Alva watched the Brass Bullet move out of its hangar. The gleaming golden form seemed to be the perfect engine, but Alva knew there was a slight flaw. Exactly halfway through the race, a converter gasket would blow and the train would be slowed. The change would be almost imperceptible, but enough to insure Neon's victory. Ivan Isotope yelled something to Alva Neon as he went by in his train, but the champion couldn't make it out. He supposed it had something to do with starting the race, so he went inside to fire up Old Number 55. As he climbed up into the cab, Foxxo jumped off his master's shoulder and began to jump around the cab like a hyper maniac. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 13: FRIEND IS TAR MONORAIL CHAPTER 2 SR-109 ============================== SRft002--"Alva Meow" ============================== "What's wrong Foxxo, pal?" asked Alva Neon, puzzled. The monkey just screamed, as Alva started the engine up. Steam shot upwards as Old Number 55 lurched forward. Out onto the track it went, a blue and silver symbol of victory. It approached the starting area where cars were attached to make a train. Each car had an advertisement for a national brand on it. Soon it was time to begin, and Alva Neon's conscience began to bother him. Was it right to sabotage his opponent as he had, to shatter Isotope's dream of becoming world champion? That mattered little now, as the race was about to begin. The fuse was lit on the starting cannon and both engineers held their throttles expectantly. At the moment just before the cannon would go off, they turned up their engines. The cannon roared and the two trains began to move. Alva felt the excitement rush in his blood as he felt the raw power vibrate beneath him. He had gotten a slight head start on Isotope, and was using it to his advantage. He turned the throttle to full and began to pull away. Neon had a big lead when Isotope began to speed up and challenge the lead. Alva turned around and saw the gleaming Brass Bullet gaining on him fast. Foxxo jumped about the cab insanely as Isotope caught up. As he passed, Ivan Isotope made a hand gesture to Neon which Neon didn't understand. Mister King barked at Foxxo. Alva Neon just stared forward as Isotope passed. He stared at his watch and waited for his sabotage to take effect. Thirty seconds later, as he had predicted, the Brass Bullet began to slow down. And soon, Neon nearly had the lead again, and he felt a great sense of relief. As Old Number 55 caught up with and passed the Brass Bullet, Alva looked over at Ivan and was puzzled by his opponent's grin. He was even more puzzled as Isotope began to laugh. It all became clear, however, as he felt his engine begin to shake beneath him. Old Number 55 rumbled and shivered as the Brass Bullet shot past it. Alva Neon heard Mister King bark as pieces of his engine began to fly off. It was coming apart. Double sabotage! Alva closed his eyes as his pride-and-joy was demolished. When he opened his eyes he was in the middle of a pile of junk. Foxxo had disappeared. In the distance Alva Neon heard the crowd cheer for their new champion. The rain stopped and Alva was old again. He was wet and depressed. He closed his eyes and thought about how useless his life had been after that day. He never raced again, and he used up his money to drink away his problems. Finally he just became a bum. So there he sat. A few minutes later Alva heard a noise which he hadn't heard for years. He looked down the street and saw the long lost Foxxo running towards him, carrying one end of a rope. The monkey pulled it tight by the front of a door and tripped a guy as he walked out. The guy fell flat on his face and Alva Neon just laughed and laughed and laughed. Laughing, he lapsed into a deep slumber. When he awoke, it seemed like ten years had passed. And there was a big German shepherd standing perfectly still right by his sprawled form. He got up on his elbows and regarded the animal through hazy eyes. "Cat goddess has helped you. You are now Alva Meow. Oh, you're young," said Mister King in a deep, calm voice. "Who?" "Everything's alright. Everything's fine." "Aren't you... aren't you that dog?" "Are you sure the memory of train race was not an allegory for your failed marriage?" "No. It... it really happened." "Did you masturbate about having sex with Ivan Isotope?" "No!" "You did." Alva frowned and looked around. It was sunny and quiet, and there was no one else to be seen. Cautiously, he sat up, his back to a building, never taking his eyes off Mister King. "What are you doing here, anyway?" Alva asked the beast. Mister King cocked his head. "What--" Alva continued. "What are you doing to me here?" "I am of Gnoboslast," said the dog. "What's that all about?" Alva said, and finished the phrase with a hacking cough, after which he cleared his throat loudly several times and turned away. When he looked back toward the dog, it was running away down the street at a great speed, and was soon out of sight. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 13: FRIEND IS TAR MONORAIL CHAPTER 3 SR-110 ============================== SRft003--"As Clear as Yesterday" ============================== Alva's eyes focused on nothing as he tried to get his bearings. Soon, he heard an eerie noise from nearby. He turned to look, and he saw a big black bus turning the corner. He got up and stared at the approaching, menacing vehicle. He looked down the street toward where Mister King had departed, and wondered whether the dog, with its superior hearing, heard the terrible bus coming. If so, the dog was smart. I'm dumb though, he thought, cuz I'm not moving. The bus pulled up to where Alva stood, and stopped. Waiting for the doors to open, Alva was soon attracted to his reflection in the shiny, opaque black glass of the bus's door. He was young again. Hadn't the dog said something to that effect? Then the doors of the bus opened, and the driver stared down at him with glowing green eyes. "Look. Just get in," the bus driver said, in a voice that didn't seem all that evil. After a moment's reflection, Alva figured he didn't have anything left to lose, so he climbed on board. The driver looked away from Alva to face the road. As the interior of the bus came into view, Alva was shocked to see it was empty except for an ornate throne at the back of the bus. Above it, a sign with big silver and blue letters read "FOR ALVA MEOW". Alva turned to the driver, who immediately closed the doors and started driving forward. "Um--what is that back there?" Alva asked. "A place to sit," the driver said without turning. "Why is it all..." "Like a throne?" "Yeah." "I have no consciousness. I can't answer questions like that." "Oh?" "I'm less than a machine." Alva regarded the glowing-eyed driver with annoyance and slowly walked to the throne. It was a nice throne, and it looked very comfortable. He was about to climb up into it, but he turned and asked the driver "Where are we going, anyway?" "The Sahatter Elevated Walkway." "What's that?" The driver didn't answer. So Alva climbed up to the throne and sat down. Man, was it comfortable. He felt like he could sleep for another ten years on a throne like this. Some cool music started playing and Alva started nodding his head to the beat, his eyes closed. The singer on the song sang "Do you remember it as clear as yesterday? I think you remember it as clear as destiny. Inside you, there is filth. Don't even pretend to be fun. I'd rather ride in a bus than fuck sex with you." Alva opened his eyes and the music was gone. And the bus... it was stopped. And the driver was gone. Sun streamed in. It was comfortably warm. Alva was half-asleep. But he was trying to wake up. Suddenly, a fountain of water shot up from the middle of the empty space in the bus. "It's all about summer," came a wispy voice from within the waters. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 13: FRIEND IS TAR MONORAIL CHAPTER 4 SR-111 ============================== SRft004--"Fred" ============================== Alva Meow was drenched as he stepped out of the bus. He had just walked though a fountain that was inside the bus, a fountain that told him "It's all about summer." The water had been warm--like urine, he thought. He wore a shiny silver-and-blue outfit, making him look something like a cross between a king (or a jester) and an astronaut. He was short, and had a handsome face, with thinning black hair. There was a sign next to where the bus was stopped, reading "THE SAHATTER ELEVATED WALKWAY". Alva looked around and saw that he was indeed on an elevated walkway. The black bus, which was parked perpendicular to the walkway, took up the entire width of the structure. It was hot and sunny, with a cloudless blue sky. The sun was blazing down on Alva. The walkway's surface was covered with glossy tiles, all different colors, and the color schemes seemed to change as it went along. On either side of the walkway were railings, about waist-high, also covered with tiles. Alva walked over to one side of the walkway and looked down. There was nothing to see but more sky. He tried to peer around the back of the bus which was snug up against the railing, and he managed to get a glimpse of the walkway continuing the same way in the other direction. Just then Alva caught a movement from beneath the bus out of the corner of his eye. He looked over and saw an odd little man crawl out from under the bus. He was a squat little fellow--two or three feet tall at most. He had a huge nose, big, cartoonish eyes, and sharp teeth. He wore a striped black-and-white elf-cap with a furry ball on top, out of which stuck two enormous pointy ears. He wore a shirt that was striped like the cap. His skin was almost pure white, his features dark gray and black. In fact, there was no color to him at all--he was totally monochrome. Then, the weird little guy spoke, in a somewhat high-pitched, nasal voice. "Hello there. I am 'Fred', a lame character of a group of '80s losers. I was made up by them." "Um... hello... I am... Alva Meow... now... I used to be Alva Neon." Fred smiled. Alva looked away. A little breeze stirred up. Alva clasped his hands together as Fred ambled over to the railing and climbed up. "Careful, there," Alva said as he approached Fred. Fred looked out on the full expanse of sky. "All my friends are grown up now. It's the '90s now. All the losers who made me up are doing new things. I have no place in their lives anymore," Fred said, still staring at the sky. Alva stood next to Fred with his hands resting on the warm tiles of the railing. "So all your friends are gone?" Fred looked at Alva, squinting in the light of the sun. "Nah, not gone. Just older. And bitter. And they don't play games." Alva nodded. "I found myself under the bus," Fred said. "Oh?" "Yeah... the last few years rushed by... fewer and fewer references to me by the crew... I think the last time they talked about me was 1994. But I can't be sure. I guess I stopped existing. Here is where characters go when they stop being referred to." Alva nodded again. "So what about you, Alva?" Fred said. "Are you a character like me? Lost your people?" "No... I'm a real person." "Is that so?" "Yup. I'm real. I had a real life. Used to be famous, used to race trains. Used to have a monkey?" "A monkey? No shit!" "Yup. And I threw it all away after this... this... this ironic thing that happened." "Ironic?" "Yeah, ironic." "Tom and Kelly used to call me ironic. It was a play on words. Moronic, ironic. You get the idea." "Yeah." Alva turned around and sat, his back to the railing. Fred followed suit and sat next to him. Fred studied Alva intently, as Alva listlessly stared at the tiles of the walkway. "What ironic happened to you Alva?" Fred finally said. "I... I tried to sabotage this guy, um, Ivan Isotope... I fixed his engine... but subtle... no way he would have known... but it would have been enough to slow him down... just a little... so I could win." "Uh-huh? Uh-huh?" "But he... he did it to me too... sabotaged me... but he did it blatantly... my engine, Number 55, totally fell apart. And he didn't even get in trouble for it. He set me up totally. And I felt like I deserved it cuzza what I did to him." "Oh." "Then my life fell apart. Like the engine. And my monkey, Foxxo, he even disappeared." "Oh Jeez." "Yeah." "That's a terrible story, Alva." "Yeah." "And you say you're not a character?" "No, I'm real." "But it sounds... doesn't it? It sounds so much like a story... 'Ivan Isotope' doesn't sound like a real name..." "I don't know..." Alva mumbled. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 13: FRIEND IS TAR MONORAIL CHAPTER 5 SR-112 ============================== SRft005--"The Sahatter Elevated Walkway" ============================== The two sat in silence for a time. Then Fred spoke. "Are you a sexual being, Alva?" "Huh?" "I mean... sexual desire... does it figure prominently in your mind?" "Sexual desire... sex drive... lack of sex... yeah, all of it..." "So you are sexual, then?" "I guess so." "That's nice. Good for you. I was made as an asexual. But I admired it in Tom and Kelley and Leon and Ben and Gamble." "Gamble?" "Yes, yes, Gamble. Full of wild energy, that girl. I admired her greatly." Alva looked at Fred. "You're not human, are you?" "No sir, as I told you before, I'm a character." "Oh." Fred looked up at the sign. "'The Sahatter Elevated Walkway'. So we are somewhere then." Alva didn't answer. "Hey Alva... I don't know about you, but I see this whole thing as a new chance for me, a whole new beginning. Away from the crew, I am really existing. By myself. And I want to make something of it, something of this new life. You know, Alva?" "I was insane recently," Alva said. "A crazy senile old nut. A bum, a vagrant. Now I'm young and my mind is clear. And all the stuff that drove me crazy in the first place, it's all still there, starting to eat away at me like before. You'd think that an old, homeless, mindless creep could at least look forward to the comfort of death, right?" "But you should count your blessings, dear sir." "I'm nothing. I'm nobody. And that damn dog, he told me that the train races weren't real, that they were just psychological representations of my failed marriage. And he said that I masturbated with a gay sex fantasy." "Did you?" "No." "Oh. I think Leon might have done that. He was always making fun of gays, imitating them and stuff, but I think there was some of that in him." "Yeah." Fred sighed, and then looked over at the black bus. "Hey Alva," Fred said. "now that we're here, do you know what we're supposed to do?" "No. Not at all." "But we have to do something." "Something." "We have an interesting puzzle on our hands, Mr. Meow!" "Uh-huh." "Mind if I lead our little adventure?" "What?" "I always wanted to be a leader, like Tom. I know it's just you and me, but you seem too depressed to lead, and that leaves me!" "If you want to lead, go ahead and lead." "Cool! Let's start off with the bus. I found myself under it--is that where you found yourself too?" "No... no that wasn't it... I came in on the bus." "Really?" "Yeah." Fred stood up and walked over to the shiny black doors of the bus, and peered in. "My friends use to take the bus to school, till Kelley got a car. Then Ben." Alva didn't respond. Fred knocked on the door, and waited for a reply. There was none. He turned to face Alva. "Nobody home." "There was a driver, at one point," Alva said as he got up with exaggerated effort and walked over to the door, next to Fred, and peered in. "I don't see how the bus got in this position," Fred said, looking up and down the length of the vehicle. "Some kinda parallel parking job, y'know! I remember Kelley had a helluva time with parallel parking in the early going." Alva remained silent and tried to pry his fingers into the door seal, without success. "No luck, eh buddy?" Fred said. Alva took a deep breath and stared at the door, nodding slightly. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 13: FRIEND IS TAR MONORAIL CHAPTER 6 SR-113 ============================== SRft006--"J. R. R. Tolkien" ============================== "Where do you think we are, anyway?" Fred said after a period of silence. Alva stared at him, and furrowed his brow, fully taking in, for the first time, the weird appearance of the bizarre Fred. "You really aren't like anyone I've ever seen before. No offense, but you're a weird one," Alva said. Fred looked a little hurt, but then he smiled. "I told you that I'm a lame character made up by a bunch of '80s losers. That's just what I am." Alva looked away and nodded. Then suddenly it got dark and there was a huge black circle in the sky, many times the diameter of the sun that it blocked. There was a halo of light around it, like in a regular solar eclipse, but the light was very faint. Alva saw the black circle right away, but Fred was looking around frantically before he caught sight of it. "Now willya look at that!" Fred said. "That's not something you see every day, as Tom would say." Then a face appeared in the circle. A beatiful girl with high cheekbones, a blond Mohawk, and a killer stare. She was looking right at Fred and Alva. Her eyes narrowed and anger flared in her expression. "FUCK!" she yelled in great frustration, and it shook Fred and Alva to their bones. Before the vibrations of the obscenity were finished, the black circle disappeared and it was sunny again. Fred and Alva stared at each other, at a loss for words. "Um..." Fred finally said. Alva started shaking his head. "That was interesting!" Fred said, his voice trembling a little. Alva just kept shaking his head. Later... "Alva, did you ever hear of a game called 'Dungeons & Dragons'?" asked Fred. "No," said Alva. "Oh, well, it's really a wonderful sort of game. My friends used to play it all the time. They even incorporated me into it sometimes." "Yeah?" The two had been walking down the Sahatter Elevated Walkway for some time now. After they saw the woman's face in the sky, Fred had suggested they start walking, and Alva had blankly agreed. "'D&D', as it's called in its shortened form, is a role-playing game in which players take on the personas of medieval wizards, fighters, thieves, paladins and the like." "How do they do that?" "They have a character record sheet." "Uh-huh." "Tom said that D&D was based on 'The Lords of the Rings', a series of books by J. R. R. Tolkien." "Never heard of that." "No? You never heard of J. R. R. Tolkien? Where have you been living all these years, my man?" "I was living old and destroyed." "Old people are cool. Tom's grandfather was great. But he died." "You sure talk about Tom a lot." "Yeah! He's the guy who originally drew me!" Alva skeptically looked over the little guy. "Too bad he wasn't a better artist." Fred looked a little hurt, but then he smiled. "That's what Gamble used to say! 'Poor Fred', she'd say, 'his daddy Tom was a bad artist!'" Alva frowned and said nothing. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 13: FRIEND IS TAR MONORAIL CUPLINE'S END ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 14: TO VIXENWAY 8 Chapters--SR-114 thru SR-121 ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 14: TO VIXENWAY CHAPTER 1 SR-114 ============================== SRtv001--"Vineyard" ============================== Fluffy Netherfuck stopped her motorcycle and looked around. Somewhere in the outskirts of Boltpike. Light snow flurries danced all around. A vast dusk plain stretched, dark forests and mountains in the distance, a good cold fresh smell in the air. She got off the bike and took off her dull silver helmet, cradling it in her left arm. Yeah, this was the place. Maybe. She was so old--there wasn't near enough room for all the memories she must have accumulated since the beginning of time. After making love with Tanner Loblolly for a month-and-a-half in the peculiar lather, she just had to get away from him--away from The Supbam Hotel, away from Agoopish. Here she found a place where no one else was around. A wild, unknown place. She embraced the promise of solitude. The promise of rest, the promise of calm. Her sexual exploration of Tanner had been extensive and certainly out-of-bounds. She wondered how he was handling the emotional aftermath of the experience. They were inside and outside of each other so massively. But it was what she saw, deep within him, it was what she felt, impossibly intertwined and buried in him--it was this that drove her to solitude more than anything else. In the vision she lazily received, there was a boy in the back seat of a car, riding down a highway, heading south, pen in hand, pen to paper. It could have been Tanner, but she couldn't be sure. But she saw next, Tanner as a sketch, as an incomplete creature. As a patchwork. This scared her. When she first met him, he had questioned her origins. She told him about her memory--of how parts of it go to sleep every so often. How she only had 315 years of memory online right now. Of how it wasn't a problem, but he implied that it was. In him, though, she saw strange origins--and maybe an envy. An envy of her huge age. And she saw more things in him. A whole scene, a whole vista, a whole life of Tanner as some sort of cat god--and even a name--Payjaych. And even another name--a name she had to dig for, to strive for, to challenge for. Kat X. She saw that Tanner feared this name--was it his true name? Was it the secret of his origin? She saw confusion. Tanner as Payjaych as iconoclast in pantheon, getting banished and imprisoned to Earth, to Thatterine College. Then she could see it--how his past was swallowed up--how he became Tanner Loblolly for real, how he lost his past. Then she saw the boy from the car, older now, wandering a lovely city, with a friend, an Asian friend. Little floating seedlets all around, the boy looked at his friend and said "I love Alison." And she wondered. What did it all mean? What sort of creature was Tanner, really? Yeah, the whole issue of her past. She knew what Tanner was driving at--that her assumptions of what happened farther back than 315 years were wrong--that there was some intricate masquerade gong on. There were rumors--she caught glimpses and flashes of them between her exit peculiar lather and her enter solitude. Things about Daptin Gone and Cursive Caxopy and the discovery of new universes. About Daptin Gone having created his own world. About the deepest secrets of Avert. But she didn't hang around. She didn't get the full story. And she really didn't care. Putting her helmet back on, Fluffy remounted her bike, revved it up and continued down that nowhere highway. Getting here was tricky--she caused a little commotion driving her motorcycle through a department store, down into its basement, and even farther down, into the catacombs below. Deep down there, she emerged at the top of a crazy leaning tower full of art, and she roared down the spiral stairway within, and burst into the queer little town all around. A few bewildered denizens eyed her, but she ignored them. It was onward, onward onward. Into a vineyard, into one aisle, reaching a certain great speed, and the grapes melt away, leaving--this. She forgot how she got back the last time she did this, but she felt she'd know the way when she saw it. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 14: TO VIXENWAY CHAPTER 2 SR-115 ============================== SRtv002--"Dusk/Flurry Mode" ============================== Speeding along, Fluffy felt a great surge of emotion, and teardrops began mingling with the little dying snowflakes on her face. Her utter theft of Tanner's innocence in the lather. But was he? Was he an innocent? There was no answer. Deeper into nothing she rode, bursting out into total crying, glad there was no one around to see. She felt an awakening, as if she'd been asleep for hundreds of years, and only now opening her eyes. Her life as a goddess--always engaged in coolness, politicking, sex, one-upmanship, collecting, decorating. And ignoring life. Or maybe--real life was something she couldn't experience. But she knew--she knew--that she had been truly alive at some point. Beyond the 315-year barrier? Yeah. That sounded right. But if she was really so deceived, what did that say about her? How could a deity be so fooled? Even, even this being a possibility, a plausible alternative to her baseline world view--this was scary. This was devastating. Daptin Gone. She'd met him a few times. He was definitely similar to Tanner, but Daptin seemed so much more... together. Fluffy envied Spanking New Sarah and her relationship with Daptin. That was why... She knew that Tanner lusted after her. In an earnest, youthful, fresh way. If she couldn't have a Daptin, she could have a Tanner. And so she did. And it lead to this--running away. Running away from everything. Speeding along at 90 or 100 mph, Fluffy noticed it wasn't getting any darker. Or lighter. Forever dusk--yeah, that was one aspect of this place. She seemed to remember that far down this road were buildings--maybe something like an abandoned ski resort. She could stay there for as long as she needed. She had artifacts to provide all the food, clothing, shelter, and comfort she'd need, no matter what, even if there were no buildings to be found. Away from Agoopish. She needed a mortal to get through to Boltpike, even though she was better at handling the crossovers than most of her pantheonic brethren. She used one of Von Beable's protoges, Lofercomfan. The girl was good enough--going to Boltpike was no big deal. Fluffy even considered trying it on her own-- it was possible, if a supreme test of skill and willpower. But with the motorcycle and everything, it just wasn't worth the risk. Where was this place, anyway? This devastating limbo. It must have been in Boltpike, right? No crossovers, that's for sure. Space was all screwed up in Boltpike. But this place--maybe it held some secrets? She knew she'd been here before, but what were the specifics? Who came with her? What was she doing? As she rode on, the snow began to get heavier. Funny, she thought, that something was changing here. For some reason she thought the whole place was infinitely stuck in the dusk/flurry mode. But now it was really coming down. The visibility as it was becoming, she might have slowed down. If there were the possibility of something else being on the road, which there wasn't. Or at least, it seemed unlikely. Soon all Fluffy could see was a white vortex. But she didn't slow down. She sped up. She maxxed the throttle. Daring? Maybe, but she knew that even a dead collision with a rock wall wouldn't harm her much. Might even feel good. Then she began to laugh a crazy laugh. Things were going to change. She could feel it. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 14: TO VIXENWAY CHAPTER 3 SR-116 ============================== SRtv003--"Injured Sparrow Positive Transit" ============================== INJURED SPARROW POSITIVE TRANSIT That was the sign Fluffy Netherfuck saw, the sign on the big, run-down wooden structure floating above her campsite. Earlier, after driving her motorcycle through the whiteout of the blizzard for what seemed like hours of challenge, the weather finally started to clear and the goddess found herself in unfamiliar territory. Not much snow on the ground here, strange. A barren place with low, rolling hills sprinkled with jutting rocks. She was no longer on a road, but a trail. Barely a trail. After taking her new surroundings in, Fluffy decided to stop, set up camp, and rest awhile. She used a camp-in-bottle, an artifact that looked like a tiny liquor bottle with orange liquid inside. Pouring it on the ground caused a flash and a puff of smoke, revealing a newly-created camp, complete with tent, roaring fire, bathroom facilities, etc. The tent contained a bunch of useful supplies and foodstuffs--including a brand new camp-in-bottle. It was still a dull dusk, never changing, and she quickly fell asleep in a sleeping bag in the tent. She awoke to a low rumble. It was darker than it should have been in this realm of infinite twilight, Crawling to the flap opening, she looked up to see it--the huge structure hovering above her. It really was like an old wooden building, but it was big, and designed with all these little platforms and things underneath it. And the sign. INJURED SPARROW POSITIVE TRANSIT The thing was turning as it passed rapidly overhead. She looked back into the tent to see what time it was, how long she'd been sleeping. There was a digital clock in there, but from this angle, she couldn't see it. Looking back out, she saw that the thing had passed her by, and was heading off, over the hills. She sighed, squinted her eyes in concentration, and leapt up. She sprinted over to her motorcycle, got it going, and tore the ground up and she started after the bizarre UFO. It retreated at a respectable speed, but nowhere near the top speed of her bike. On a paved surface, that is. It was harder going over this rough terrain. She wailed down one hill and up another. Damn. The thing was getting farther away. And she could see now--see how massive it was. Wow. She continued down and up a few hills, nearly out of control full throttle, but she could see she was losing ground. Cursing, she reached into an inner jacket pocket and took out a drama clam. It was a little blue clam, which she raised, and then struck against the side of her bike. Instantly, the motorcycle became more... dramatic. And more bluish. The motor roared deeply between her legs, and the monster took off like a bat outta hell. She could barely control it--it took all of her god-level strength to steer the beast. She had to do this fast--the drama effect wouldn't last too long, and once it ended, so would the useful life of the motorcycle--it would soon be an inoperable, rusting hulk. But it was working. She sped up hills, leaping tens of yards before hitting ground again. The UFO loomed ever closer, and soon she was nearly upon it. But from the bike she began to hear a kind of whining hiss is the midst of the motor's majestic roar. Not much time. Still holding a handlebar with her left hand, she took her right hand and grabbed her lasso. The UFO was starting to turn, and her bike was starting to die. Plus she was headed for a big rock formation. She had one chance, one moment, to lasso the UFO. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 14: TO VIXENWAY CHAPTER 4 SR-117 ============================== SRtv004--"Glanced Off" ============================== She spun her miraculous lasso and aimed for a part of a railing on the UFO's underside. She had to steer toward some particularly sharp and nasty rocks to get a good shot. Seconds away from painful impact, she let the lasso fly, and it found its mark. She moved her left hand from the handlebars and grasped the rope. But there was too much slack. Her bike died right at the moment it crashed into the rocks. She shut her eyes tight, clenched her entire body, and waited for impact. It happened a split second later. Ouch. A regular human would have been splattered like a bug. But Fluffy was a goddess. She survived. But she was knocked silly, bruised, cut, and similarly injured. She lay there for a few moments, absolutely dazed, when she began to move across the rocks. She still had a tight death kinda grip on the rope, which had been pulled taut by the movement of the UFO, and was now pulling her. Before she could get her bearings, she slammed into and glanced off another jutting rock. Ow. Her eyes were full of tears as she looked up at the UFO that had her in tow. Every new moment brought a militia of little rocks, stones, prickly weeds, etc. assaulting her lovely body. She frowned and cursed as she began doing what she had to do--climbing hand-over-hand up the rope. She could have let go of course, but after wasting her bike and getting beaten to a pulp, she kind of figured it was a goal worth attaining. It was slow going, and her body rang with pain. Huh. She thought of the many discussions she had over the millennia over the nature of the godbody. Of the relationship between pleasure and pain. About how they were one and the same thing, just on different ends of the same continuum. Of how gods must endure the possibility of pain if they hoped to feel the ecstasy of pleasure. Not that there was a choice. This was the way it was. Immortal, never dying, but still able to be hurt. And she couldn't remember ever being hurt worse than this. Ever so slowly she made her progress, hand-over-hand. Then as the UFO pulled her up a hill, and she pulled herself up one more torturous tug, she ascended. As the hill dropped down below her, she was in the air, hanging straight down from the UFO. Seeing another hill approaching, Fluffy redoubled her efforts and climbed faster, just clearing the next hill. And soon, she got to the railing her lasso had caught, climbed over it, and fell, exhausted and limp, onto the platform. Peering through black, puffy eyes, Fluffy smiled as she saw the hills and rocks passing by below her. Then she turned and looked at her new surroundings. A big platform, with stairs leading up to unknown places. But she was in no shape to travel. So she rolled over, reached into her jacket, and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that the camp-in-bottle was still intact. Lucky she stuck it in her jacket before she went to sleep. She unscrewed the lid and moaned in pain as she rolled onto her side and poured the orange liquid onto the wooden boards of the platform. "Please work," she groaned, and it did. A flash and puff of smoke and it was there, a fresh campsite. She got up on all fours and crawled over to the tent. Once inside, she stripped off all her clothes--an extremely painful job--and slid inside the sleeping bag. Almost immediately, she passed out. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 14: TO VIXENWAY CHAPTER 5 SR-118 ============================== SRtv005--"Unhealthy Jay Well System" ============================== UNHEALTHY JAY WELL SYSTEM CONNECTION NO LONGER POSSIBLE Fluffy looked up at the sign through bleary eyes. She awoke in the tent, no idea how long she was unconscious. She hurt all over. She didn't want to move. But she knew her godbody had taken the time it needed to do the major repairs. She might be terribly uncomfortable, but now she'd be capable of functioning, at least. Peering out of the tent, she saw that the UFO she was on was still in the gloomy duskworld, but now over a body of water. She could see choppy gray waves in the distance. And it was colder. Slowly, painfully, she stood up and looked herself over. Pretty nasty. She found a mirror and checked out her face. Bad. Both her eyes were puffed up and she was pretty cut up. It'd heal though. Totally. She looked at her heap of clothes and cursed. They were in tatters. Except for her jacket, which was made of tougher stuff and still wearable. So she opened a backpack in the corner of the tent where she knew she'd find fresh clothes. They were bright orange and loose fitting. Not really her style, but they'd have to do. She put them on, then put on her jacket, as well as her utility belt and boots, which were also damaged, but usable. Rummaging around the tent, she grabbed a bunch of useful stuff--food, tools, the new camp-in-bottle, and some other stuff, and threw them in the black backpack, which she then put on. So she limped out of the tent and to the railing. Yup. Looked like an ocean. Could have been a great lake, but it... felt... more like an ocean. Turning, she headed for one of the stairways and winced in discomfort as she climbed them. At this higher platform there was a wall with windows and a door--kind of like an old-fashioned storefront. All run-down and beat up. She headed for the door. Inside she found a room lit only by the faint light from outside. There were a bunch of seats and some ticket-window kinda things. And a big sign on the wall. UNHEALTHY JAY WELL SYSTEM TRANSFER NO LONGER POSSIBLE She shrugged and looked around. Some junk, like big remnants of machinery. Some strange posters. And a dark corridor, which she headed for. In it, she had to grab a flashlight from her utility belt and fire it up. It bathed the eerie scene in light. A circular tunnel, whose walls looked like they were carved out of solid stone. Huh. And on the wall, in tile, another sign, written above an arrow, an arrow facing toward the unknown. And it said... TO VIXENWAY -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 14: TO VIXENWAY CHAPTER 6 SR-119 ============================== SRtv006--"Wrath Sanctimony Babe" ============================== Dear Fluffy, I never thought I'd be writing you this letter, but then, there are a lot of things I never thought I'd be doing that I'm doing now. I want to say up front that I'm sorry for all the misery this letter will cause you. I, too, know the bliss of oblivion, the kiss of version. But believe me, if there were any other way, there's no way I'd be doing this to you. But before I go on, I have to commit THE ACT. So here goes: "Bank of Occupied Fauna, Bank of Escape Hay, Bank of Gambol Satellite, Time, the Bank, and Hay." Take some time to recover. That was, as you may now remember, one of the forbidden "backdoors" I built in when we decided to blot out of existence the armageddon that was Sweptim. Yes, yes. Now I feel more comfortable writing to you--now you're the Fluffy I once knew, who was once my best friend, back again. Of all existing peoples in Creation, it is you who I most trust, who I would gladly trust with my lives. I hope by now you realize who I am--none other than the incorrigible Wrath Sanctimony Babe!!! Okay. I hope by now you've recovered your senses somewhat. 451 years of self-deceit must be a massive debt to absorb into your body system. I should know--I set myself up to be under the veil for a century--you knew me as Abner Mash Hound Mill. As I knew myself. It's the next day. I had so much on my mind I couldn't go on last night. I want to clear the air on the matter of our relationship when I was Abner. I...like many others...always lusted after you. You knew it, and let it be a positive part of our friendship. For that, I thank you. My hormones got the best of me though, in the end. I constructed the Abner Mash Hound Mill persona to be the personification of your perfect lover. And I tweaked the Superbhurricane to make sure we'd be lovers for those hundred glorious years of orgy and oblivion. (The two O's, don't you know.) When the fuse reached me--and I remembered everything, I couldn't bear what I had done--to our platonic partnership. I never realized that the sexual tension was the glue that bound us, that made our bond last. I realized then, after 100 years, that I had destroyed a friendship that had lasted almost a millennium. Sexuality is the prime mover--it exists between all friends. But it's most potent when it remains platonic--the physical act is a splat, all that. But understand, my lust for you went beyond a subtle tension--often, all I could think of was ripping your clothes off and getting lost in the sexual playground you. You don't know how close I got at times--but always, something got in the way. But I'm glad it never happened like that. Abner Mash Hound Mill was me, and also it wasn't me. I, as Wrath Sanctimony Babe, as myself--committed a fait accompli that it would happen--but it was me AS Abner Mash Hound Mill who finally found it with you. It's four days later now. I've been so busy, I haven't been able to stir up the buzz to get myself to continue this letter. I just hope I have the guts to mail it when the time comes. I have to clear this whole thing up with you. You gotta hate me now, I know. What I did was bad. But I am kind of bad. You know that. I know it must have hurt you terribly when I, as Abner, disappeared. It sure hurt me. But once I was free of the Avert Cities, I just... I felt like I had no more boundaries, like I could go anywhere and do anything. The wound that was the remnant of Sweptim was healing. And somehow, with all the new forces that were beginning to swirl around, I just had to travel those pathways. Fluffy, Fluffy, Fluffy. You gotta know what's been happening. Let me tell you about the case with me first... -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 14: TO VIXENWAY CHAPTER 7 SR-120 ============================== SRtv007--"Abner Mash Hound Mill" ============================== I thought that I came up with Abner Mash Hound Mill out of my own imagination, but it turns out that there's a REAL Abner, and that the process I thought was my own act of imagination was something far deeper and more disturbing. And... How can I even say it? All of Agoopish and the rest of Avert--the same sort of thing happened there--there was a REAL Agoopish once, just like there was a real Abner Mash Hound Mill. The thing is, there's this whole new picture that I'm just starting to grasp, about the nature of Creation. You know the countless hours we spent contemplating That Which Lies Beyond. Well, let me tell you, Abner Mash Hound Mill--the real one--is from there. How can I even put all this into words? The nature of existence--not at all like we thought it was. Think about it--what if NOTHING existed ANYWHERE? No existence at all. You can't imagine it, because it is beyond the capacity for us to visualize or conceptualize. What I'm talking about is Lamparponding. But I know I'm not explaining it right. See, I've discovered all this, but I don't know if it's going to do anyone any good. But you have to look at pleasure--pleasure is one of the most vital elements in the universe. No one should scorn it. And make no mistake--I'm not talking about hedonism--it is false pleasure. Pleasure that must be paid for by pain is not pleasure. Lamparponding--I am in no position to initiate it, but you--you are in a very good position to get it going. But "keep it in your pants". Lamparponding is a lot like sexuality--if you handle it properly, it's the most potent force. Abuse it, and it will control you, and it has no mind, it is just a mindless storm. Establish Lamparponding. I have met the real Abner Mash Hound Mill. I have direct information about That Which Lies Beyond. And what it points to is Lamparponding. Tomorrow again. So much stuff going on. I have to admit something to you. I used soft time travel last night to go back to my first night with you as my version of Abner Mash Hound Mill. Yeah, I was making love to you only a few hours ago. What do you know about that. Maybe you should do a little soft, if you know how, and go back to that day too. It was so strange waking up in that male body. I was so aware of my penis the whole day. It was so the focus of my entire being, knowing that it would be my tool in caressing you with as much pleasure as I was able. But now I'm thinking and my hormones are back to their screeching and shrieking. I want to make love to you as a woman, not as a man. And I miss you now more than ever. I could do soft time travel every night, but... No. It's not right. But I don't think I have the will to hold myself back any longer. I think I might soft time travel back to our days together in Sweptim and try to seduce you. I wonder if you'll acquiesce. I am a bad girl. I'm sitting here wondering what day, out of the hundreds of thousands we spent together, you'd be most susceptible to my love. Or maybe, even to occult means of getting you to spread your legs for me. I don't know. I know I should feel guilty for all this, but I don't. As I said, I'm bad. Hum. I'm feeling a little sleepy now. Maybe I'll do a little soft. But what day? 45 minutes later. I've decided what day to soft time travel back to--our sojourn to Foomhoom--the day which began with waking up in a dungeon--remember--we were too drunk to use our powers to resist getting arrested by the local authorities. That day--where in the course of half-a-day we were in the mythological palace at Foomhoom--in that room we shared--the streaming sunlight--the glorious bed--you and me sharing it. I thought you might have gone for it then, but I was too involved with Wompoppa the Dryer at that point. I think you might have. I think I'll go back there now. Soft time travel--doubles your life--or halves it? I don't know. Wonder if I'll keep it up... maybe I'll have to risk stampede-style soft time travel--continuing the reality of the previous night's time travel... But we both know how hazardous that is. And I'm in no position to risk destroying myself right now. You know? Well, I'm off to bed. The next paragraph will reveal to you what happened, back there in a slightly edited day we shared--or will share--in Foomhoom. After now. And in a nutshell, my little scheme worked. But... -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 14: TO VIXENWAY CHAPTER 8 SR-121 ============================== SRtv008--"Lamparponding" ============================== "There are no time paradoxes." Your words. So I'll tell you what you told me to tell you. Soft time travel back to that day as well, and the mind of the you of today (or the day you'll eventually get this letter) and the mind of me of today were (to me) and will (to you) be together in Foomhoom, in our bodies as they were at that time. Confused yet? I should have known there'd be some sort of distraction like this when I need to focus all my energy on the issue at hand and Lamparponding. When you told me that you always felt the same way about me, I... You want me to be honest like the bad girl I am? It was anticlimactic. You would have thought I'd be thrilled, but to think--of all those days together--and we could have been fucking-- What can I say? I wanted to be the dominant time traveller, back to seduce that wonderfully innocent version of you. Now maybe you see what I mean about "keeping it in your pants". I told you I'd write more about Lamparponding in this letter, that the version you read had nothing specific about it, and also nothing about you going back in time. There is the elastic nature of things, but it doesn't quite explain this. Transfer of information, transfer of bodily fluids, places and experiences. What was that perfume you were wearing? Lamparponding... I'll explain it to you next time we meet in soft time travel. Same time, same place? Could that possibly work? I love you. But unfortunately, there's no way for us to get back together, for real. Not until-- No. It's too soon for that. Later now. I've been masturbating all afternoon on our tryst. Yeah, I'm a loser. With all the things I know, to be so into sex, seems kind of like a waste of talent. But this is you we're talking about. And YOU are bigger in my head than just about anything. So anyway, Lamparponding... it's a whole new way to do things, so much more in line with how things were originally meant to be. I got to get the information to you, but I think our "convergent" soft time travel connection is the best way to give you all the details. So I don't know. I wish I could blow this whole situation apart. Huh--wonder what would happen if I DID manage to set of a situation grenade here? Oh well. Like that's gonna happen. Two days later now. And I've been with you three more times. It so lame, I've been running around all over, trying to get myself tired enough to go back to sleep to be with you again. In this venture, you start to wonder which timeline is the real one. Man, for it to be the earlier one--our friendship re-edited into a between-the-legs thing. Wow. But I know it can't last. There are forces at work here which even now are making life difficult for me. I know I'll have to focus on these things and let the chips fall where they may sooner or later. But Fluffy, we have something going here--something I desperately want to hold onto. But time travel is such a loser thing to do. But what can I say--I'm a loser for pussy!!! Egad--look at me. Please try and understand me. Where I am now in my life--it's like, everything we yearned for in Sweptim, that I now have. So why am I escaping back to those times every time I go to sleep? I will find a way to be with you, in the here and now. I have no idea how, but I will. Because I love you, in that schoolgirl way. I'm so wet. "True Love", Wrath Sanctimony Babe P.S. I never sent this letter. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 14: TO VIXENWAY CUPLINE'S END ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 15: WEAVER 23 Chapters--SR-122 thru SR-144 ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 15: WEAVER CHAPTER 1 SR-122 ============================== SRwv001--"A Nice Place to be Naked" ============================== Water dripped onto Prince Ferrajalt's face. Water. It felt good. He smiled. Then he opened his eyes. Standing above him was a totally drenched Treyess Arcomany. "Hey stranger," she said. "Hey." "We're alive," Treyess said. "And we're alone." "What do you mean?" Ferrajalt said, sitting up. "Well," she said, sitting down on the ground next to the Prince, "I managed to crash in the water. Thought I was gonna drown. But--I didn't." Ferrajalt nodded. "I'm pretty sure this is an island," she said, looking around. "An island with lots of rocks and pine trees." Ferrajalt nodded again. "And," Treyess continued, "there's no sign of the others." Ferrajalt sighed. "Yeah, y'know--" he said, "I don't know about you--but I was in the vacuum and absolute cold of space for a good while. Only my hangs saved me." "Me too. That was so horrible, wasn't it? Just before it all just..." "Yeah. I saw that dog again." "Me too. He was taking the rabbit somewhere." "Yeah." Looking up, Ferrajalt saw that there were several ultrabright light sources in the sky, not just one. There seemed to be two main ones and about a dozen minor ones. "Interesting sky," he said. "Yeah I know--I've never seen anything like it before." "This isn't Timber Serious. Not by a long shot." "Nope." "Your plane get destroyed, I guess?" Ferrajalt asked. "Yeah--coral. Pretty nasty." "Hmm." "I see that yours--well, there may be some identifiable wreckage over there. Uh, maybe." "Yeah. I hit hard... You know--some of the others--there's no way they could have survived all that." "You mean that girl, Sleap?" "Yeah. That outer space would kill an unprotected human in a few seconds." "Maybe the others were luckier--they were quite a bit ahead of us." "Hopefully." Treyess looked at her haggard Prince. His clothes were nearly torn to shreds. Treyess' were too. Ferrajalt smiled and looked down at himself. "May as well get rid of these, huh?" he said. "Sounds like a good idea. And you know if we start running around here naked, the others are bound to show up. It's just got to happen." "True," Ferrajalt said, ripping at what was left of his shirt. It tore away like tissue paper." "Freeze dried in the vacuum, maybe," Treyess said as she ripped her clothes off as well, which were also extremely fragile, except for her shimmering silver cloak, which seemed no worse for wear. Ferrajalt continued undressing, placing some things he had in his pants pockets in a little pile on the ground. And as he ripped his jacket off, he felt something in one of its pockets. Tearing the fabric away, he saw the little book from the Warhome library he had taken. "The Aleche Degrasion". Apparently, it was a classic of adventure and intrigue back on Timber Serious. He figured if he didn't take it along, chances were he'd never get another chance to read it. He examined the book--it seemed to be in pretty good shape. The pages weren't made of normal paper--maybe it was some kind of plastic? He pondered this as he added the book to his pile and continued undressing. Soon, they were both naked. "You know," Ferrajalt said, "this is kind of a nice place to be naked." "Yeah," Treyess said with a smile. Ferrajalt walked over to Treyess and they hugged. "I don't know where we are," the Prince said, "or what we're going to do--but I promise--I will take care of you--protect you--never abandon you." Treyess cringed a little. Wasn't she more able than Ferrajalt to take care of herself? She always had. But somewhere in her heart, her pride was warmed and melted away by a feeling of security, by the joy of being able to depend on another person. "Thank you," was all she said. And they both sat down on the pink and blue sand. Ferrajalt looked at the sand and realized something--there were large patches of pink and blue--but when he ran his hand between two sections, the colors mixed together to form a bluish-purple color. How could the areas have become so perfectly divided? It just wasn't natural. "So we need fresh water and food," Ferrajalt said after a long silence. "If we don't find both, we're kind of in trouble." Treyess laughed a little. "Yeah. I'd say so," she said. "But I have a feeling we'll find what we need here. Something about the smell in the air..." "A beautiful smell..." Treyess said. "Yeah," the Prince said, closing his eyes and lying back. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 15: WEAVER CHAPTER 2 SR-123 ============================== SRwv002--"Red Archer Booze" ============================== Later on, the two ventured inland in the warm afternoon and did indeed find a freshwater stream and a wide variety of delicious fruits growing on trees. They ate their fill as they continued to explore the island. As the lights in the purple sky began to set, they returned to Ferrajalt's crash site and relaxed on the beach. Soon, an even grid of stars began to appear in the sky, among which a number of dim circles if various colors lazily meandered. "I wonder if the others are in a place like this," Ferrajalt said. "I hope they are." "Yeah." "But as it is, it looks like we may have this world all to ourselves." "Hmm. I wonder if it's our responsibility to populate it." Treyess looked over at Ferrajalt. "I don't know. We did a lot of frolicking today, and I liked it. To me, pregnancy and frolicking are pretty definitely mutually exclusive." "That's true. And with Fife's birth control hang, we could avoid it ad infinitum." "That's the idea." They continued talking for some time, but as it got dark, and with the unfamiliar sky above them, the two fell asleep in each other's arms. Ferrajalt didn't know how long he had been sleeping when he opened his eyes. The shoreline was dimly lit by the objects in the sky. Without moving, he looked down toward his biplane's crater. Near its edge was Treyess' silver cloak--right where she'd left it earlier in the day. But it was moving. Ever so slightly, it was rustling. Ferrajalt remained frozen, but his heart began beating faster and harder. He continued watching, and soon he saw what could have been a hand appear briefly above the rustling cloak. And then--yes--it definitely was a hand. Then part of a head, and another hand, and an arm. Someone was struggling to pull themselves up and crawl out of the cloak. Ferrajalt considered waking Treyess, but decided he'd rather retain whatever advantage remaining motionless might afford him. Now he saw the figure more clearly--a woman, with long black hair--a tight-fitting red, black, and orange outfit. And now--she was holding something--a weapon of some sort. Soon, she had fully escaped the cloak and was on all-fours next to it. Ferrajalt began nudging Treyess. The strange woman stood up and spoke. "Gee--forever wasn't that long after all." Treyess began to stir, mumbling loud enough for the woman to hear and look their way. "What have we here?" she said, starting to walk their way. Now Ferrajalt could see what she was holding--it was a bottle--a beautiful, wonderful bottle. "How do you like this?" she said. "First I escape my infinite banishment curse, then I find a couple of fresh young lovelies." Ferrajalt sat up, and Treyess followed soon after. A really nice bottle there, the Prince was thinking. "What's going on?" Treyess said. "I don't know," Ferrajalt said. "I saw her climb out of the cloak." "Damn right," the woman said, approaching the two. "I was supposed to stay in there forever. As it turns out, it was only a few thousand years. And y'know, I haven't gotten laid in all that time--you two'll do nicely to get me back in the groove." "This is a dream," Treyess said. "It's got to be." "Drink up," the woman said, passing the bottle to Ferrajalt. "you'll have a beautiful dream with me once you do." The Prince accepted the bottle and felt an irrational fascination for it, and a burning desire to taste what it contained. Without hesitation, he put it to his lips and drank. It was a burning, but wonderful, liquor. Treyess was eyeing the bottle with similar interest, and grabbed it from Ferrajalt after he took his swig. She too drank from it. "Looks like I'm odd one out with these clothes on," the woman said, undressing. "It'll feel good to get 'em off after all this time." Treyess and Ferrajalt watched as the woman undressed, sexual fires and lust immolating forth within them. For a moment, Ferrajalt figured they were doped with some sort of monster aphrodisiac, but he quickly dropped that, and all other rational thoughts as the woman knelt down and began to embrace the two. So beautiful, so sexy... "Now c'mon kids--let your friend Red Archer Booze satisfy your burning desires. You'll see why they locked me up in that thing--they couldn't understand the power of ultra pleasure. But now I'm going to make you two understand." And Ferrajalt wanted badly to understand. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 15: WEAVER CHAPTER 3 SR-124 ============================== SRwv003--"Resist" ============================== Today I began to resist Red Archer Booze's advances. In the past three or four days, Booze has insinuated herself into my relationship with Treyess--she made it clear that she wanted to be part of it--and she did become part of it. But I could tell, even from the beginning, that she liked Treyess better. So now I guess I'm doing it--I'm letting her have Treyess. What the hell has become of my life? Ever since we crashed here, I've begun to question my life from before. Could I really have been a Prince? Could I really have travelled to all those wonderful alien Earths, had all those adventures? I don't know. I guess at some level I know that all of it IS true--maybe I'm just grasping for a way to deal with the loss of it. Red Archer Booze is a dangerous being. She was imprisoned inside Treyess' cloak by a demigod thousands of years ago--only to be released when the cloak was totally removed from its original reality. I guess the curse that kept her there no longer made any sense. She is pure indulgence. She loves her bottle of intoxicating, delightful drink, and she loves sex. I have to admit I was drawn into it, but somehow I've managed to begin to break free. My feelings are so confused. Do I love Booze? Do I love Treyess? Yes and no to both. I think this Booze person has been manipulating my emotions. But I still have these feelings, however they were created. But my rational mind tells me to beware. And it also told me to take advantage of Booze's apparent preference of Treyess for company. That is, let her be preoccupied with Treyess while I try to come up with some way out of this mess. Does that make Treyess the sacrificial lamb? Maybe it does, but I don't care. I just walk naked around the island, totally free from burdens. I eat and drink fresh water and delicious, satisfying fruit. I breathe the wonderful air here. I just am. I am free from everything, and especially from Red Archer Booze. It's funny. She had such a look in her eyes when I was able to resist her bottle. It was a look of supreme unbelief, but beneath it--barely detectable--was a look of respect. "Very well then, Prince," she had said, emphasizing the last word. "Perhaps another time." "Perhaps," I had said. "But perhaps not." When I said this, Red Archer Booze smiled, but said nothing as she left. Clearly, I had won. So now I'm sitting up here on the rocks, watching Treyess and Booze frolick in the surf. It's like they don't care--don't care that we're lost in an unknown place. They just care about their fun. I don't know. I think I'm getting bored with things. I would have liked to have more life experience to mull over in this situation. As it is, I'm just getting restless. I think of my family--maybe out there somewhere, maybe not. The Royal Family. They made me so mad. They said that all young Royals rebel against their status, but eventually come around. I hated that because it rang true; it reduced my heartfelt rebellion to just a childish phase. Their conventions were like that ocean liner being towed down the river--huge and unstoppable, but hurtling forth, ever closer to its ultimate demise. Yeah--they thought it was a phase. Guess I showed them it was more than that with my disappearance. Guess I showed them I was serious. Big deal. So maybe this is depression. I do feel kind of dead, kind of unmoved by the world around me. But as long as it can keep me away from Booze and her bottle, I'll embrace it. Booze is so into fun--but how much fun can you have on a deserted island? I guess sex is the most obvious answer. Maybe talking to each other, debating mammoth issues of philosophy and religion, maybe that would be better. But Booze isn't on that wavelength, and Treyess isn't really either. Okay. So I'm staring out over this alien ocean. My girlfriend (is she my girlfriend anymore?) laughing and splashing as Booze embraces and tickles her. There's a little breeze. And I do feel dead. The only thing holding me together is my royalty. Somewhere deep within me is the strength of heroes. Barely keeping me afloat. But I'm hanging on. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 15: WEAVER CHAPTER 4 SR-125 ============================== SRwv004--"Matter Thing" ============================== I have to see something. I pick up a big, jagged rock and lift it over my head, as I place my other hand on the ground. In a swift motion, I bring the rock down and bash the hell out of my hand. A surge of emergency superstrength courses through me, and the rock feels like it's made of Styrofoam as it bounces harmlessly off of my hand. So I do have some superstrength left. The girls are far down the shore from the crater I made with my biplane. I have a sudden urge to dig into the wreckage--it's the only place that anything interesting could be hidden. And the book is there too. I should really start reading it soon--but on the other hand, it may be the only book I'll ever read for the rest of my life. So I jogged down the rocks toward the crater. I got away from the ugly scene of Treyess in the tight, monstrous grip of Booze. I ran, feeling light and powerful. And soon I got to the crater. A little bit of biplane wreckage was above the ground--the rest was buried in a dense claylike substance. If I summoned superstrength, the clay would feel like whipped cream to me, easy to dig into. I looked around--no one there, of course. The girls were safely occupied with each other, far away. "Super!" I yelled, and I felt the signature surge of power and lightness that meant I was in full superstrength mode. Quickly, I attacked the clay around the biplane, careful not to annihilate the plane itself. Clay was flying all over the place as I slowly revealed the twisted mess of what was left of the aircraft. I grabbed big parts of the plane and tossed them to the edge of the crater. I figured I could have all the wreckage arranged thusly before too long, but when I dug a little further, I grabbed a piece of wreckage which felt--different. This bit of wreckage didn't have that light, flimsy feeling the other parts did--it felt solid, heavy. I swept away the sharp pieces of metal wrapped around the thing, and then looked at it. Huh. Interesting. It looked something like a big radio, with the familiar black-and-white police markings the Warhome had had, along with the gold police logo. It had a handle on ach side, and a big circular opening surrounded by grating, which looked a little like a speaker. Above the circle was an array of little meters, each with a little needle on an arc display. It was nearly identical to the device on the central shaft of the Warhome--only smaller. Could it have been the plane's power source? I turned the thing over a few times as I felt the superstrength wash away from me. Yes--if I was looking for anything, this was it. I scrambled back to the edge of the crater and put the thing down. If this device powered the plane with direct matter-to-energy conversion... I picked up a small piece of twisted metal and lowered it into the device's hole. As soon as the metal went inside, I heard a series of clicks. I kept lowering the metal, and I began to hear a deep hum. Before long, the metal was farther down into the device than seemed possible. As my hand neared the opening, I dropped the metal, and it disappeared into the opening. I glanced at the various displays, and I saw that a few were lit up, their needles moving up a little. The matter in that piece of metal? I grabbed a handful of rocks and dropped them into the hole. They disappeared, and yet more of the displays lit up and moved. I noticed that one of the displays was lit up in blue, rather than white. This one had a little picture of a Warhome above it. Huh. I fed some sand, a few tree branches, and a few more rocks into the thing. They all disappeared into that black opening. Some of the needles moved a perceptible distance, but the panel with the Warhome on it didn't react perceivably--or maybe it did, but just barely. So I had a new pastime--feeding matter into my--what should I call it? A "matter-to-energy thing"? Or maybe just a "matter thing". Whatever. In any case, I had to start doing something. The prancing of Treyess and Booze was really starting to get on my nerves. I mean, come on! Light, airy fun isn't exactly in synch with the state of being stranded on an island. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 15: WEAVER CHAPTER 5 SR-126 ============================== SRwv005--"Sculpt" ============================== But what am I saying? I haven't even decided whether or not this is an island! It gets awfully rocky going along the shore either way--tough to climb naked. This lack of clothes is also starting to bother me. Not that I'm embarrassed by my physique, I mean, I've been intimate with the other two inhabitants of this place. It's just, I feel like it would be more difficult to face a challenge without clothes. Like an aggressive animal--or climbing the rocks, as I've already mentioned. Wouldn't want to waste what's left of my superstrength... Anyway, I took a walk inland and got to an area with a lot of large rocks and boulders. I figured I'd try and find a bunch of smaller rocks to feed into my matter-thing, but there weren't that many to be found. I was carrying the matter-thing in my right hand, passing a large rock formation, when I heard a little click from the device. Looking down, I saw that a little push-button was revealed on the top of the left handle--just right for being pressed by my thumb. So I grabbed the other handle and held the thing in front of me, pointing away. Then I pushed the button. There was a brief flash of light and a smell like just before a rain shower in the air. In from of me, a large area of the rock formation was gone, gutted. I looked at the matter-thing, then back to the rock. God damn if the thing didn't suck in about a ton of the stuff! I smiled and nodded my head. I'd be getting A LOT of matter into this baby now. Too bad I didn't have a Warhome for it to power. But something had to happen when the needle read full, and I was dying to find out what. So I worked on the rock formation for awhile. It was almost like taking pictures with a camera. At times, I felt like a sculptor--I made some pretty cool shapes out of the rocks. Then I pointed the thing downward and snapped. Yup--the sucker ate up a big portion of ground. Awesome. Some of the needles were getting toward the 50% mark, others were hardly budging. If each needle represented a basic element, how was I ever gonna fill up the rare ones? I found out pretty soon. I had begun snapping up pine trees--only thing was, it gobbled the lower portion of the trunk, leaving the rest of it to collapse thunderously onto the ground. Almost got creamed a couple of times, I did. Anyway, as I was snapping up a fallen tree, the thing started to beep crazily. I looked at the thing and saw that the grating above the hole closed up, and the display turned a different color. It felt weird in my hands--it had already started to a while back, but now it was--you know what it's like to hold a gyroscope and try to move it around? It was like that. I felt a deep clanging from within thing, then another, and then another. As I watched, a few of the needles which were over 50% dropped, as others which had barely moved began to increase. Could it be? No. I mean--how could it? But there was no escaping the conclusion--the bastard was converting one element into another, at a fundamental level. From what I could tell, it may have even turned some lead into gold! Unreal. But then it hit me--if this thing was meant as a power source, what possible use could there be to changing one element into another? Then another thing hit me--I thought it was converting all the matter I was snapping up into energy--but now... From what I could tell, all that matter was still in there! Hundreds of tons of rock, there had to be! How could I still be holding this thing? It didn't weigh that much at all. But then I remembered my science lessons. Mass and weight are two separate things. Somehow, this thing was keeping it's weight constant, while massively increasing its mass. I felt a chill rush up my spine. Just what was I dealing with here? Okay--it was somehow building a huge stockpile of matter within itself--but how? It would have to be ultra compressed--but then I remembered another lesson--that most matter is made up of nothing but space. There was no other conclusion. It was building something, deep within its bowels, something that was hundreds of tons. And I was holding it in my hands. What could it be building? I looked at that display--the one with the picture of the Warhome on it. No. No. It couldn't be. No way. It couldn't be--could it? I took a deep breath, as the displays turned back to their normal colors, and the grating covering its maw opened up again. The Warhome needle was now around 20%. Could I dare believe? Could I dare believe it was building a Warhome? I thought of my promise to Treyess, of how I'd find some way of keeping our Warhome, and making it our home. Huh. Looks like I'll be keeping that promise, only we'll have to share it with the devil incarnate, Red Archer Booze. It was at that moment that I really started to hate Booze. A lot. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 15: WEAVER CHAPTER 6 SR-127 ============================== SRwv006--"Chime" ============================== A plan started forming in my mind. If my wild speculation was true, if this thing was really going to build a new Warhome, I wanted to get the whole thing done without the involvement of Booze and Treyess. I would travel across the island to some remote beach, and then take the Warhome to sea, around the island and back to the women. I know it's kind of immature, but I think I would get a thrill out of showing off to them, doing something as amazing as this. And maybe, at some level, I felt it might help me get Treyess back. You know, we hadn't been together alone at all since Booze arrived. The stranger was always there. Unwanted, unwelcome. Maybe I'd ban her from the Warhome, and leave her on the island. Me and Treyess could go to sea and explore this world, with no more interference. Or maybe--maybe I'd have to kidnap Treyess. Take the biplane in--no--the submarine! Take the submarine in and snatch her while she's swimming! Snatch her away from the scumbag Booze. My mind was dazed. I wasn't sure what I was gonna do--but I knew I'd need to snap a whole lot more matter before the matter-thing could build the Warhome. So I redoubled my efforts, snapping up rocks, ground, trees, and anything else I could find (not much). I continued inland, farther than I'd ever been before. I didn't care about getting lost--I was sure now that before too long I'd have a new Warhome. And a Warhome can cut through anything. Lord knows how much matter I snapped up. Many hundreds of tons as I continued my walk inland. I couldn't wait to get the new Warhome--there would be clothes and food and water in there. See, I'd gotten to a more barren area, much more rocky and flat. And I was getting pretty hungry and thirsty. I had a field day on the rocky plateau. Snapping up massive amounts of stone. I guess there must not be a big variety of atoms in stone, because the matter-thing did it's "digestion" phase more and more often. Soon I got to the edge of the plateau, and I saw the sea far in the distance. I'd been travelling for about four or five hours at this point, and I felt really worn out. But the Warhome needle was nearly at 100%, and my stomach was full of butterflies, waiting to see if and how an enormous Warhome was gonna find its way out of this little box. The lights in the sky were falling toward the horizon, and a weird green and silver sphere was drifting across the sky, when I heard the bell. It was a beautiful, pure, exhilarating chime which sounded from the thing I held. I looked at the Warhome display. 100%. I looked around. I was still on the barren plateau. A few small weeds grew among the cracks in the rocks, but other than that, nothing. I looked down at the device, and all the displays were dark--only the image of Warhome was lit up. So I placed the thing gently onto the ground. It stayed there, displays facing up, for a few seconds, but then it began to stir, and in a sudden motion, it swung up to rest on its side. I stepped back. It began to shake, and turn slowly in a clockwise direction, toward me. I ran around to stay away from the area it was facing. As it turned out, it wasn't pointing toward me--I guess it was looking for the best possible place to begin its work. So it stopped, and a few seconds later, it spat out a black ball of some sort. It rolled away from the device and then stopped. I backed away some more. The ball began to roll around a little, and then suddenly it just--unfolded. That's the only way I can describe it. Sort of like a flower blooming also, I guess. Could the entire Warhome be in that ball, unfolding? No--there's no way--it would be so dense and small that it would have cracked the rock and fallen into the ground. And the way the thing rolled--no--it didn't have the inertia of an object that was hundreds of tons. But it was unfolding into something--something like--a spider? Yeah--some sort of robot with multiple legs--about the size of a large dog. Soon it had completely unfolded itself and darted with uncanny speed over to the matter-thing, which it lifted into a cavity in it's "chest" area. Immediately, the device spat out about a dozen more balls, all different colors. The spider picked the balls up in specialized appendages and began moving around at incredible speed, depositing the balls at various locations. I backed away some more--this spider was covering a big area, and moving so fast--so fast that I wondered if my superstrength would save me from such an impact if it were to hit me. But it didn't. All the balls it arranged began to unfold, into a variety of shaped, and all the while, the device in its midsection was spitting out ball after ball, which the spider would then deposit either by themselves, or on top of the various things which were unfolding. I sat down and watched the show. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 15: WEAVER CHAPTER 7 SR-128 ============================== SRwv007--"Keys" ============================== It went on for a long time, and my mind began wandering. Such an incomprehensible thing to see. Such a weird way of construction. All I can say is that hundreds--maybe thousands--of unfolding balls were inevitably forming themselves into a Warhome--just like the one I had grown so fond of back on what was left of Timber Serious Earth. So much activity--it took hours of constant work for the Warhome to be built, but finally, it began to look recognizable. As the outside was finalized, the spider went inside, and spent about half and hour inside. I walked around the nascent Warhome, but kept my distance, fearful of the massive forces at work building it. One unfolding thing merging with another unfolding thing... Incredible. Finally, the spider reemerged, climbed down the Warhome, and started moving toward me. I was apprehensive, but stood my ground. It approached to about ten feet away and stopped. It removed the device from itself and placed it on the ground. In a flash of light, the device snapped up the spider, and sounded another wonderful chime. The only way I can describe the sound was that if the first chime was a question, this chime was the answer. I carefully approached the device and picked it up, then I went to the Warhome and climbed up the ladder. It was exactly like the one I originally encountered in the yard--in every detail. I got to the walkway which ran around the perimeter of the vehicle, and opened the door, peering within. Yes. Exact. I entered, putting the matter-device on the ground and sitting in the driver's seat. It felt weird to be naked and sitting there, but I knew I'd be dressed soon enough--I found a whole bunch of clothes in my original Warhome after me and Treyess made love for the first time. I had to assume an identical set would be here. I looked up, and for sure there was a set of keys hanging there, just like before. I didn't take them, however--I got up and entered the back of the Warhome. Soon, I was inside the master bedroom and rummaging through the closets. Lots of clothes in here. Finally, I found an okay tan sort of jumpsuit. It looked kind of dorky, but it was comfortable. Dressed at last! Then a thought struck me. I went over to the library and looked for the book I had had, "The Aleche Degrasion". Yup. There it was, in the same spot it occupied in the original Warhome. Silly of me to worry about the book I left behind at the crater. I mean, was I really going to kidnap Treyess and high-tail it out of there? Maybe. But probably not. Stupid me, I felt bad about the idea of stranding Booze all alone--especially considering her sexual appetite. I need to become more heartless, I guess--I'm never gonna get anywhere being such a sap. I sat down in the library and began leafing through "The Aleche Degrasion", but soon I got restless and put the book down, returning to the cockpit and the driver's seat. The lights in the sky were now setting--it would be night soon. So what was my game plan? I guess I'd go to sea, circle back to the crash site, and surprise Treyess and Booze. But should I wait till morning? Yeah, maybe, but then--if I was gonna kidnap Treyess, it would be better to do it at night... Ah, who was I kidding? I wasn't gonna kidnap her. Like it or not, I'd be cooped up with Booze in this relatively small place. Oh well. Maybe she's not that bad, maybe I just have to get to know her? Nah. She's bad. I took the keys, started the Warhome, and headed for the sea. I felt a sense of supreme satisfaction, having accomplished this. Then I looked over at the matter-device, and had a brilliant thought. Let those two fools build their own Warhome. I'd just get in the way of their fun, anyway. Tomorrow should be an interesting day. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 15: WEAVER CHAPTER 8 SR-129 ============================== SRwv008--"Purple" ============================== Purple flashing. I opened my eyes. A flashing purple light. For a moment, I was disoriented. Then everything came back to me. Still pretty disorienting. I had built this new Warhome the day before, taken it out to sea, and then went to bed. I'd put on a winter city evening atmospheric display, and had fallen asleep right away. The images of streets covered in snow and people walking around still surrounded me. Even a random scent of car exhaust. But the purple light--I knew it was indicative of an incoming message. I felt a surge of unease--had Treyess and Booze found the matter-device from Treyess' crashed biplane, in the water? Had they already made their own Warhome? That had to be it. Damn. Reluctantly, I reached over and hit the button, looking up to see the video screen. But the face that appeared was not that of Treyess or Booze. God damn if it wasn't Nevrippa Den! Lucky I still had my jumpsuit on. "Hey there stranger! Finally get wise to the matter handler there kid?" "What?" I asked. "Well guy--hey--where's your friend? What I'm saying is, you must have finally figured out that you can make unlimited Warhomes with that machine built into your biplane, my Royal friend. And hey--who is this 'unknown' person I keep hearing about?" I held up my hand and closed my eyes briefly. "Wait, wait--just wait a minute. Give me a chance. Let me get my bearings. Now what the hell happened? Where are you?" "Princy, Princy, Princy. You're so far out of the loop it's scary. Most of the others are asleep, but I'm pretty much nocturnal, you know." "Yeah?" "Yeah. So anyway--oh, I don't know. It's a long story. They thought you two were dead meat, but yours truly never gave up hope. I kept scanning for other Warhomes, and wham! I just gotcha!" "So--where are you, uh, Nevrippa? Someplace else on this world? Are the others okay?" "We're fine. We all made it. I knew you guys were lagging behind--I saw it on my Warhome viewscreen. I stayed in the bastard, buddy! I wasn't gonna abandon my stuff!" "Um--you mean you didn't bail out in your plane?" "No way! I handled it. Got pretty beat up, but I'm healthy. Managed to salvage most of my stuff intact. What a thrill ride! Wish I could patent it." "Okay, so--where you are now--what sort of place is it?" "It's Daptin's Land! You know, your old friend Daptin Gone? Well he's your God now! He created this entire Earth--all by himself. Pretty talented, eh? Says he felt your presence, but he couldn't pinpoint you. Limited omniscience, such a pain, you know? But he said there was someone else with you--someone like evil or something? So is God boy nuts, or is there some--" "--yeah, yeah. There's an evil person with us. She was, uh, she was like inside Treyess' cape, you know the silver thing? She was trapped in there but got out. And she is really evil. Totally into--I mean, I don't know. Her name is Red Archer Booze. Yeah." "So where is she?" "Um, she's uh, she's back with Treyess." "What do you mean? They aren't there with you?" "Well, no. Not exactly." "So why aren't they there?" "They--I don't know. Treyess has just been acting weird lately. She's been hanging out with Booze way too much. You know?" "What do you mean? You mean hanging out in like, in like THAT WAY?" "Aw, come on. I don't want to say anything. She's under the influence of Booze. She's not responsible for her actions. She's--" "--an evil woman stole your girlfriend? Cool!" "What do you mean cool? What's could possibly be cool about that, dammit." "I don't know. It's interesting. A good storyline." "Well I know it doesn't seem like it, but this is real life! And I lost someone I really cared for! At least--at least temporarily." "Well, sorry about all that. But dude--you're real far away. I mean real, real, real far away. Like over 10,000 miles." I thought about that, doing a few quick calculations in my head. "It's not so bad. What is that--a week of travelling, at most?" "Probably not even that much, Princy. Maybe four or five days over the water, nonstop." "Yeah." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 15: WEAVER CHAPTER 9 SR-130 ============================== SRwv009--"God Dude" ============================== "So look--" Nevrippa said, "do Treyess and that evil chick know you've woven a new Warhome or what?" "Um--not exactly. I just walked off really, with the matter thing, and built it. I was planning on surprising them tomorrow." "Just like Treyess surprised you, going lesbian?" "To put it bluntly?" "I'm a blunt girl." "Yeah I guess you are. I don't know--she--Booze--has some sort of aphrodisiac which drives you nuts. I know, 'cause she--y'know--she--well I may as well tell you. She seduced BOTH of us at first. But I managed to realize what was going on, and..." "But still, your girlfriend is doing it with another woman." "Yeah, well, I don't know. I don't know how I feel about that. If I were king, I guess I'd have to condemn it, but I'm not. I don't know how I feel." "Uh-huh. Hey look--you know, I know it's late and all, the middle of the night, but I promised Daptin I'd tell him as soon as I found you, you know, if you managed to figure out how to use your matter handler." "I don't know. It could wait till morning, couldn't it? I mean--" "No--a promise is a promise. And you know Princy, this guy is like God, so you better be nice to him. I'm gonna drive over to his house and wake him up." "No! Wait! I mean, you really don't have to." "I'm already on my way dude." Okay. Okay, but... But won't he get mad? I mean, if he's like God and all, isn't it--I don't know--dangerous to piss him off?" "Honey, nothing's dangerous for me!" "Geez!" I shook my head and sat up. Too much information. And my situation was suddenly much different. Hooray! I didn't have to face a future with only Treyess and Booze as company, constantly annoying me! "Now you just relax," Den said. "Daptin's still his same old self, only he like created this world and he's God and stuff. Okay man? Chill!" "Okay Nevrippa. I have to, uh, go to the bathroom, so I'll be back to ya in a minute. Okay?" "No problem." I got up, but Nevrippa yelled after me. "I'm here at the house now! Daptin should be in here and ready to talk to you in a minute!" "Okay!" I yelled back at her, and I went to the bathroom and pissed. As I walked back into my room, I was apprehensive--Daptin Gone was a guy I met a few times. He was a Quality Scout--nice title. It basically meant he snooped around to find any shit he could about people. But he was alright--always joked about his position and everything. He was one of those Red Alley guys--not a Primate, just a friend of a friend or something of Letevs Fife. Funny he'd wind up having massive powers. So I went back to the bed and looked up at the screen. All I saw was the empty cockpit of Den's Warhome. So I lied down, put my hands behind my head, and waited. And I thought. About what Den had said. It was funny--when I saw Treyess with Booze, it seemed perfectly, I don't know, natural. But then, I'm a guy, and all guys are perverted in that way. They love two girls together, but two guys makes them lose their lunch. Double standard? You bet. It's just what turns you on. I don't think girls get off by seeing two guys. At least, I'm pretty sure they don't. I don't know. But regardless, Booze is totally evil, and I have to get Treyess away from her at some point. Maybe Daptin could help. Then, Nevrippa returned. "Hey dude. Daptin'll be here in a minute. So you have a good pause that relieves or what?" "Yep." "Cool. Yeah, he was kind of mad. He definitely has a high-and-mighty thing going--kind of like you--but he's trying to hold back. He wants to be normal even though he's the God dude here." "Uh-huh." Nevrippa sighed. "So. Read any good books lately?" I chuckled. "It's funny you asked. You know, I took a book with me into the biplane. Hah, I thought it'd be the only book I'd be able to read for the rest of my life." "What was it?" "Uh, 'The Aleche Degrasion'?" "Yeah. I heard of that one." Then it occurred to me to ask the obvious question. "So did it work?" "Did what work?" "Did we bring reality back?" Den looked down and shook her head. "Sorry," she said, then looking up again, "it didn't work. Reality is still fucktisized." "Darn." "Yeah, darn is right! I liked Aconck. I loved travelling between all those different Earths, with all those different people and cultures, none of which could hurt me." "Yup." "So where is he? Where's God boy? Oh! There he is. Here he comes." Den got up, and I could hear her yelling in the background. "Yeah, come on! Come on up! I got Royalty on the comm!" I cringed. The last thing I wanted to do was piss this guy off. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 15: WEAVER CHAPTER 10 SR-131 ============================== SRwv010--"Evergreen" ============================== Soon, Den came back. "Okay--here he is. I'll let him sit in my seat--but only 'cause he's God." "Yeah," I said. Then Daptin came into view. He looked really different from the last time I saw him. For one thing, he had a full beard and mustache, green like his hair. On his head he wore a kind of crown of evergreen branches, and he was wearing a green outfit of some sort. Also, he looked a lot older. Maybe he was just tired. "Prince Ferrajalt," he said. "Glad to see you figured that matter handler out. I knew you were out there, but I couldn't do anything to contact or retrieve you." "That's okay," I said. "So, uh, how've you been? Stupid question, I know." "No. No. It's a pretty good question, actually. Hmm. Well I created a world! That seems to be the big thing." "So we all--I don't know--you made this world and we all found our way here? Or... I guess with reality all crashed and everything, this is like the only stable place left?" "Something like that. We're not entirely sure." "Yeah. So are you, I don't know, are you really like God or something?" "Uh, well, that's a tricky question. I guess the way I've figured it out is that I'm the God of this world, but not the God of any of the people in it. I mean, I didn't create YOU, or anyone else. I haven't created any animals, in fact. Just plants. And landscape, of course. So don't call me God. Nevrippa does , but that's just because she's a kook. In a good way, of course." "Hmm," I said. "So um, I guess we should sail across your sea and get to you guys. Is everyone else there?" "All of your friends are here, yes. And others. But I'm going to have to ask a favor of you." "Okay, but it was just--me and Treyess went through the vacuum and cold of space. It would have killed us, if it wasn't for superstrength. But there was--there was that girl, Sleap something, and that weird Hypergod guy. Did they make it?" Daptin smiled. "Oh yes," he said suggestively. "They didn't have as much trouble as you apparently had, but Sleap's not your average, helpless girl. We knew all about her. She is, apparently, the one behind a lot of this madness." "Whoah. You lost me. She was a survivor of the reality crash on Timber Serious. That's the one, right?" "Oh yeah. She posed as a survivor--notice she was the only non-OA individual to survive. Oh yeah. There's a lot of stuff going on with her." "Huh." "So look--I hate to ask, but I have sensed a ship in one of my seas--and I'm almost definite it's the Urbandersnacheron. You know--Ky Ly Quids and the gang. You must have heard of them." "Oh yeah. I heard some wild stuff about that gang. You must have met them on your scouting." "Uh-huh. But the thing is, they're in pretty much the totally opposite direction from here. I figure it'll take three or four day to reach them. I can't get in touch with them or anything--another reason why I'm not God--I'm not fully omniscient OR omnipotent." "Okay yeah, so I guess we can go help them. No problem." "The Urbandersnacheron isn't nearly as fast as a Warhome, though. It'll take them a few weeks to get here. I was thinking--could you possibly make another Warhome, one you could leave with them? So we can remain in contact with them on their trip." "Yeah. No problem. We can do that. How'd they get here, by the way?" "I have no idea. They blinked in about the same time you guys did. They don't have a full crew either--seems like just the Primates. You could probably fit them in a couple of Warhomes, but we have to get the Urbandersnacheron back here at some point, so..." "Yeah." Daptin looked off into space and wore a look of concern. "So Nevrippa tells me there IS another one with you, just like I sensed." "Uh-huh. She was, I guess, imprisoned inside Treyess' cape--a long time ago, I gather. Millennia. But since this is a totally different world, well, she just climbed right out of that cape and started tormented us. Red Archer Booze. That's her name." "She's kind of, uh, evil then?" "Kind of? How 'bout totally? As soon as she came out, she dazzled us with a shiny bottle and made us drink from it--it was a killer powerful aphrodisiac. We--both of us--had sex with her--and each other--for hours and hours. To be blunt. Like Nevrippa." "Ha ha," I heard Nevrippa say sarcastically from offscreen. "So now, what is the situation? You managed to resist her, but Treyess is still in her thrall?" "That's about the size of it." "Hmm. Okay. And they don't know about the Warhome you wove yet?" "Uh, no." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 15: WEAVER CHAPTER 11 SR-132 ============================== SRwv011--"Prime Candidate" ============================== "Hmm," Daptin said. "Okay--let me weigh my options. This Red Archer Booze--she seems like the prime candidate to be the 'devil' of this world, to put it simply. It's funny--I created this world, yet I have this incredible desire for a personification of evil. I'm pretty sure it's so I can have the burden of supplying both the good AND evil of this world off my shoulders. Oh man. I'm tired. But isn't that screwed up? Like I'm happy there's this evil woman, just so I can anoint her the ultimate force of evil in my Land? Huh." "Pretty fucked-up, dude," I said. And it was. The thought of Booze becoming some sort of goddess didn't sit too well with me. I'd rather just see Daptin kill her or something. "Yeah," Daptin said, looking like he was drifting away in thought. "Yeah. So why don't you go back to sleep and, um, well actually I'm feeling a lot of distress from Treyess. I think she's worried about you--worried that Booze did something to you. Maybe you should go to her now." "Yeah I guess. I didn't think of that. You know, that she'd think that. But it makes sense. Okay. So I'll drive--or sail or whatever--over there and see what's up. And, and I may as well, y'know, we may as well start heading out toward the Urbandersnacheron as soon a possible, right?" "Well yeah--but you want to weave another Warhome first, right?" "Oh yeah. I forgot. Yeah, so I guess we'll have to spend tomorrow doing that. It takes a while. I guess you already know that." "Indeed. So let's leave it at this--go back there, propose the course of action to them--to weave another Warhome, and drive both across the sea to the Urbander, then leave one with Quids." "Okay. But uh--I don't know. What if I have trouble with Booze?" "Well, I know that's a problem, but I really want to get her here. So if it's at all possible, please do bring her. I'm sorry if it's going to cause you trouble, but I'd really appreciate it." "No problem. Her main thing is pleasure, anyway--maybe at the expense of all else--but nonetheless relatively harmless. I guess." "Okay. So I'm going back to bed. I need a lot of sleep these days, you know. I'm sure a bunch of others will be in contact with you tomorrow--make sure to have one of them get me when you're back there and working on the other Warhome--I may want to talk to this Red Archer Booze over the Warhome comm." "Okay, Daptin." "Okay then. I'm glad you're back in the loop. I would have sent someone to find you, but it would have taken a long time--I couldn't pinpoint your location, I just knew it generally. And that's the problem with the Urbander, too. But I'm getting a clearer picture--I should be able to get you within scanner range." "Cool." "Good night, then." "Good night." "Okay--I'll give you back to Nevrippa." Great. "See? He's not so bad, for a God," Nevrippa said. "Nope," I responded. "So you got it all figgered out, kid?" "I don't know. I don't know what's happening anymore." "Join the club." "Uh-huh." "So get to it, Princy! Time's a wastin'!" "Okay. Gotta set sail. Talk to you later." "Cool. See you soon." The screen went dark. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 15: WEAVER CHAPTER 12 SR-133 ============================== SRwv012--"Martha Was Nowhere" ============================== I lied back down, and was motionless, trying to take it all in. It occurred to me that I was in way above my head, but then I considered my royal heritage, and knew that I would get through it all somehow. I was just worried--about a lot of things--like how Booze would react to the crew of the Urbander--would she want to seduce all of them, even the monsters? And when we got back to the others--a lot of the Primates are naive and impressionable. She'd have a field day with Injure Bodoni! So wouldn't it be better to strand her? I think it would, but Daptin was clear as to his intentions. He wanted her for his "devil". Great. So I'd be delivering the ultimate force of evil to the ultimate force... Wonderful. I growled in frustration. Why me? Then I remembered that day, it seemed like so long ago, when the Polants came over, and I drove them down to the Hay-Hengren Seaside in the Balsativan. There was some kind of political tension going on between us and Imcre Sound, but the cable cars were still running, over the sea... It was weird. I just sort of lost it and left the Polants. Martha was nowhere. I don't know what it was. I guess it was the nervewracking drive down the mountain--I hated driving that thing. But just having to talk to the Polants--the polite chit chat--I couldn't stand it. So I just walked away, got lost in the seaside amusement crowd. And a little later, I was sucked into my P-Vest by Supple Jake, and offered membership as a Primate in Overwhelm Associates. Huh. It seemed like the perfect thing for me, at the time. I left my parents a cryptic message about having to go away on a trip, and ran away with Overwhelm. Look where it got me. But I guess I would have been killed in the reality crash like everyone else if I never got involved with Overwhelm. But I have to ask myself--was reality really destroyed, or was it only Overwhelm that was destroyed? I mean, wouldn't that make sense? It was mostly Overwhelm folks who "survived". Ah, I don't know. What am I gonna do? Take the first step. The first step back to coherence. Reluctantly, I got up and headed to the cockpit. At the central shaft, I looked down and saw the submarine. Now that I was on water, I could try it out--but should I? It was pretty dark outside, so I don't know what I could see. Ah, I'll leave for later. For the daytime. We'd be travelling be sea for a week or two straight--I figured there'd be more than enough chance to check it out then. As I climbed the ladder, I looked at the speedboat and wondered why we couldn't just leave that with the Urbander crew. It had a comm, didn't it? Nah--it probably depended on the Warhome's main comm, so it'd get out of range at some point... Why am I worrying about this crap now? I entered the cockpit, got into the driver's seat, and began fiddling with the vector display, trying to get a map of the coastline and a reading on where the girls were. After about a minute, I got what I wanted--and I saw that Treyess and Booze were still on the beach, near my crater. Nice of them to go looking for me, y'know? -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 15: WEAVER CHAPTER 13 SR-134 ============================== SRwv013--"Single Blast" ============================== So I hit the accelerator and sped forward across the water. This baby is quick, real quick. Well over a hundred miles an hour, and smooth as silk (almost). I followed what I could see of the coastline and the map on the display. At this speed, I'd be there in a few minutes. Then I hit a few buttons, and got the map to zoom out. Yup--we WERE on an island--but it just about connected to another island at one point. Oh well. Solved that question. I slowed as I neared the beach where the two women were probably asleep. I thought about it for a moment, then I turned on the flashing lights and siren. That oughta wake 'em up! I couldn't really see much as I approached the shore--the combination of headlights and flashing lights made for a kind of crazy scene. But I did keep tabs on the little flashing lights which represented the two. Soon, the lights began to move. I approached the shore slowly, and made the transition from sea to land (pretty smooth). I drove up the beach until I saw Treyess and Booze--naked and holding hands. Gag. They were right in front of the Warhome. The sick thought of running them over ran through my head briefly as I stopped and went outside onto the walkway, leaning on the railing, looking toward them. "Hey girls! Look what I made!" Treyess began to walk forward, but Booze stopped her and pulled her back. "Hey! Let go of me!" Treyess yelled. "Let's just wait a minute," Booze said. "We don't know his intention." "Oh, for fucking God's sake!" I yelled. "Get off you it sick fuck. You're the one with screwed-up intentions and bad manners. Let her go!" Booze forcefully swung Treyess around to face her, jiggling her bottle in front of her chest. "You don't want to go with him, do you?" Treyess was transfixed by the twinkling bottle, all the more hypnotic in the flashing lights of the Warhome. "I--oh, I don't know," Treyess said. "I'm kind of... confused." I took in a deep breath of rage and rush back inside the cockpit. I was mad, and my anger clouded my reason. I turned on the weapon/targeting system and zoomed into Booze. Then I focused the sight onto Booze's pretty head and pulled the trigger. A single blast fired from the cannon and blew Booze's head apart. I saw it all on the monitor. Fuck! I looked up and saw Booze's limp body collapsing, Treyess covered in blood next to her, unharmed. Then Treyess began to scream. Over and over again, her hands to her mouth. By the time I got out onto the deck, she, too, was collapsing. Fucking goddam it. I was dead meat. Daptin would kill me for sure. I just blew away his evil-protege-to-be. I climbed down the side of the Warhome and approached the scene of the carnage. I got sick to my stomach as I approached. I couldn't believe what I had done. I had to throw up. I leaned over and did it, feeling unbelievably miserable. When I was done I fell back onto the sand and grabbed my face with my hands, wiping vomit away from my lips. And I began to cry. Softly at first, but then harder and harder. How had it come to this? -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 15: WEAVER CHAPTER 14 SR-135 ============================== SRwv014--"First Resurrection" ============================== "Okay Ferrajalt, I'll see you at dinner," Baw Veppen said as she left my room. "Okay," I said. Things had smoothed out considerably since that night on the beach when I killed Red Archer Booze. Now I was here at Bay House, the home for the second wave of arrivals in Daptin's Land. (The first wave got to live in Daptin's House, of course.) Yeah I just got here the other day. Much nicer than the island we were on. But even so, the rest of reality is still destroyed, so there's not all that much to do. Oh well. After I killed Booze, I managed to carry Treyess into the Warhome (I couldn't really climb up the ladder with her, so I had to open the motorcycle hatch in the back. She revived soon after that and couldn't believe what I did. But she did start coming to her senses, realizing how she'd been used and abused by Booze. Then of course, the call came--I knew it would. I knew Daptin Gone would feel the death of Red Archer Booze, and would be calling for an explanation. Soon, I was sitting at the driver's seat, answering the call. It was Daptin all right. "Ferrajalt, may I ask--what just happened?" He looked quite upset. "Well Daptin, I uh, well--to put it in the simplest terms, I basically killed Red Archer Booze." "How?" "I pretty much, uh, blew her head off." "YOU WHAT?" I felt a weird sensation all through my body as Daptin yelled at me. It was if he was reaching out and grabbing me, shaking me. "I'm sorry. It was just--just the heat of the moment. I mean, I was there to basically rescue them and Booze was giving me a hard time, not letting Treyess come to me. I guess I lost my mind for a minute. I--I wish I didn't do it." Daptin was breathing heavily and thinking. "Well," he finally said, "I can't understand why you'd do such a thing, but all is not lost. I can resurrect her, but I have to BE there. Look Ferrajalt--I'll come to you. We can follow the signal from your Warhome. Where's the body?" "On the beach." "Okay--just leave her there. I don't have any tides yet, and there are no animals anywhere, so her body should be okay. Just get away from her and wait. We'll be leaving today, and we'll be in frequent contact with you. And we'll deal with all this later. Understood?" I was getting a little mad at the guy, brow-beating me like that. Kind of messed with my pride. But I didn't want to start anything. "Understood. And I'm sorry." "I know you are. I'll talk to you soon. Bye-bye." Well, after that we had to wait around a few days for Daptin to get there. Treyess was really weirded out by what happened. She didn't want anything to do with me. I slept in the guest bedroom (surprisingly comfortable). We returned to the part of the island I'd woven my Warhome on, and we figured we may as well weave a few more. There were two matter handlers in the library/armory, so Treyess took one of those and I took my original one and we went our separate ways. I did discover something new--the matter handlers don't accept water, though I don't know why. Matter is matter, after all. By the end of the day, we had two more Warhomes. Treyess retreated into hers, and I stayed in mine. I don't think she liked me any more. She even called me "murderer" a couple of times. I told her, since Booze would be brought back to life, it wasn't REALLY murder. But she wouldn't listen. Oh well. I talked to Daptin that night and asked him if there was any point in weaving any more Warhomes. He said we might as well make two more--the folks coming with him could drive them back. He said he didn't like folks using matter from around the Center of his Land. So the next day, me and Treyess wove two more shiny new Warhomes, and left them on the shore. We didn't speak too much. The next few days, I didn't have much contact with Treyess. I did try out the submarine, the speedboat, and the motorcycle, though--all excellent. The submarine was especially nice. And I flew my biplane around a lot--but it brought back sour memories of the brief-but-happy time I had spent with Treyess back on Timber Serious. Oh well. Finally, after about four days Daptin arrived, along with Granticaine Perion and some woman, who turned out to be a goddess herself, from some weird place called Agoopish. Spanking New Sarah was her name. Her and Daptin have a thing going. Apparently, back when he was a nobody and she was all high and mighty, she had warmed to him. Now that he was head honcho, well, I don't know. They seem made for each other I guess. So they came to us, and Granticaine and Sarah stayed as Daptin set out back to where Booze's body lay. He said he wanted privacy while attempting his first resurrection. He came back a few hours later with Red Archer Booze, once again alive and well, wearing her original outfit. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 15: WEAVER CHAPTER 15 SR-136 ============================== SRwv015--"The Communication Itself" ============================== Daptin said he had laid down the law with Booze--and then he did with me as well. We had to make up, and each promise to do no harm to the other. Neither of us was happy about that, especially her, but we both agreed. I almost threw up again when Treyess embraced Booze, crying. At that moment, I wrote off Treyess for good. Then we made our plans. Daptin and Sarah were each to take a Warhome and return home, along with Treyess and Booze in Treyess' Warhome. I volunteered to accompany Granticaine to find the Urbandersnacheron, each of us in our own Warhome. The idea was that he would leave his (one of the ones I wove) and we'd both go home in mine. Sounded like a good enough plan. So that's what we did. The five Warhomes stayed together for a while out at sea, but after a few hours me and Granticaine split off and headed south. Me and Grant got along pretty well, and we kept in constant radio contact. When we broke away from the others, Grant was able to talk to me without worrying the others would hear. I had met Grant during my Overwhelm orientation--we were both recruited around the same time. "Well Ferrajalt, we're finally off on our own," he said. "How does it feel?" "Great," I said. "I had a real bad time back there, you know. But I'm sure you know all the details." "Oh yeah. Rather disturbing I must say. I don't care what the others say--there must have been a reason she was imprisoned in the first place." "You're telling me! I tried to tell Daptin how dangerous she was--I just hope he got the message. I mean--I was able to resist her, eventually--but I don't know if it was my own willpower, or the fact that she was more interested in Treyess." "Maybe she felt Treyess was more innocent--more space to corrupt?" "Maybe Grant. I don't know. But she'll have a real field day with all those people back at Daptin's home. You know." "I think Daptin can keep her under control. He has more power here than he's letting on. Doesn't want to act all superior, he just wants to be one of the guys--but at some point he's going to have to acknowledge his enormous might and responsibility." "Yeah." "So don't sweat it. I probably would have done the same thing as you. Probably sooner." I laughed, glad that Grant had eased the tension a little. We talked a lot about things--he gave me a much better view of the big picture, of what had happened. Apparently, the ocean liner with all the Warhomes attached to it had crashed only 20 or 30 miles away from Daptin's House. The rest of my friends flew right into Daptin's Land airspace, near the boat. I guess me and Treyess just barely made it through--that's why we were deposited so far off the mark. And somehow--like Daptin had told me--Sleap Drassy was a being deeply involved with this whole mess. I found out about this Cup of Coffee which caused so much trouble. They think Sleap is the one who introduced it to our level of reality. But who knows? I guess Daptin thinks this whole series of events was her doing--but Grant has some doubts. Anyway, he told me he was there when they caused the reality crash. "Yeah, I tell you, Ferrajalt--we knew something was wrong right away. Mallie got the call from his girlfriend, and she left a message. But afterward, he said he had to call her back or she'd be in deep trouble, so he did--he called her back--and as soon as they started talking, we got this weird feeling and the sky turned green. That's what caused the event you experienced." "Wow. So what was it--just the communication itself?" "Yeah--apparently, direct communication between where we were and the real world just totally threw everything out of whack. And what I've heard from your friends--and saw from Nevrippa's 'collection', I'd say things were pretty damn FAR out of whack." "You got that right." We were heading in the general direction Daptin had given us, but after two days, we still read nothing at all on our sensors. When we talked to Daptin (still on his way home) he said just to keep going. So we did. It wasn't until a few days later--after Daptin and the others got home--that we picked up the Urbander--about 800 miles away! Keep at it, that's what Daptin told us. A bunch of times I took the speedboat out and played around in it--but I had to make sure to keep up with the Warhome. I tried the submarine once, but it wasn't fast enough to keep up. The biplane was, though. Granticaine took out his speedboat and plane a few times also, but not as much as me. I was scared of acting too much like a child, but in the final analysis, I really didn't care. Things were too far gone. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 15: WEAVER CHAPTER 16 SR-137 ============================== SRwv016--"Gold" ============================== Later that night we got to the lost galleon, and we tried to figure out the best way to approach. We knew they might think we were attacking them and strike us first. But we decided the best thing was to stay in the relative safety of the Warhomes, after attempts to communicate with them over radio or comm failed. As we approached, with just our headlights on, they shined a bunch of searchlights on us. When we were close enough, I took the microphone and spoke over the megaphone. "Attention crew of Urbandersnacheron IV. This is Prince Ferrajalt, Overwhelm Primate of the Derolbam Team, accompanied by Granticaine Chug Perion. We have answers to all the questions you must have." As we inched closer, I saw the petit form of Ky Ly Quids standing on the deck, her pirate uniform fluttering in the wind. She too held a microphone, and spoke over a megaphone. "Took you guys long enough! Ha ha--just kidding. How do you want to board?" "Um--we have aircraft which can land on your deck--they're pretty small--you just have to clear a small area," I said, feeling kind of self-conscious that everyone was hearing me. "Well, come on over. There's plenty of room!" she said. "Let's go," I commed to Grant, and we both got into our planes and flew (more like hovered) over to the deck of the Urbandersnacheron. Ky Ly was there to greet us. "Brought some answers, have ye?" she said. "Uh-huh," I responded, getting out of my plane. I looked around--not that many people here. I recognized some of them from Overwhelm. All of them looked tired and anxious for an explanation. "What happened to your crew?" Granticaine asked. "Lost most of 'em in the happening. Only ten of us left--all Primate, too." "Interesting," Grant said. "Well," I said, "to give you all a brief overview of what's happened, this world is Daptin's Land--it was created by Daptin Gone. You should know him--he was a Quality Scout--he must have been aboard your ship on a number of occasions." "I remember him," Ky Ly said. "So this is his world? Huh. That's pretty weird." "Yeah," I said. "Apparently, something that happened on a mission he was on caused all of reality to fall apart. I got here through a very convoluted series of events--probably similar to how you got here. But other than you guys and the Derolbam Team, only the folks that were with Daptin when he created this world still exist. As far as we know, everything else has been wiped out." "I don't believe that," Ky Ly said with a cute little frown. "So how many of the Brightful Seventeen are left?" Granticaine asked, leaning against a railing and looking at the group of Primate sailors around us. "Ten," Ky Ly said, looking grim. "But all of us survived the initial disintegration. What happened afterward--I don't know if you'd even believe it. But we lost a lot of our friends, just to get here." "What happened?" I asked. "Poor Peter," Ky Ly said, shaking her head and looking as if she were about to cry. "Funny," Caffeine said from where he sat on a wooden chair. A big kind of monster guy, he was, covered in tan fur. "I never believed the kid." "Me neither," Ky Ly said, and then she did begin to sob a little. "What?" I asked gently. Ky Ly sniffled a little and then answered. "He... he said he was... his parents, they released some sort of a spirit from a fountain, and it gave them two wishes. They... they wished for a mountain of gold. And that's just what they got--a big mountain of pure gold. Their other wish was for a way to move it, to transport it. The spirit obliged, in a bastard way as they usually do in these tales--he turned the mountain of gold into a little baby. Told 'em all they had to do was kill the child and the mountain of gold would reappear. So of course, y'know now, they fell in love with the kid. They couldn't have any on their own I think. So this fellow, this means of transporting the fantastically valuable mountain--that was our Peter." "So he, uh..." I said. The pirate girl looked right at me. "I don't know how hard a time you guys had getting here, but we had a hell of a one." I shrugged. "Let's just say we needed A LOT of gold in a hurry," Ky Ly said. "And that we had an object copier." I started to get the drift. "So..." I said. "So we kept making copies of Peter, killing each one as it came out, letting each mountain of gold fall to the surface." "Um..." I said, confused. "So what happened?" "I should have seen it coming. The damn copier ran out of juice, and we needed just that ONE MORE mountain of gold, or we'd all be history. Peter offered, and we accepted. And that's it. I always thought stories that ended that way were stupid--setting someone up to make the supreme sacrifice, but it fucking happened to us." "I'm sorry," I said. "Yeah, so am I. I'm sorry all this had to happen," the pirate girl said. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 15: WEAVER CHAPTER 17 SR-138 ============================== SRwv017--"About the Coat" ============================== I let out a sharp breath and raised my eyebrows, nodding, trying to soak it all in. Huh, I thought we had it bad with the ocean liner. Me and Granticaine hung out with the pirates for awhile, hearing the unbelievable tale of what they went through to get here to Daptin's Land. They lost not only Peter Yektil, but also Dandy Banish, Vladimir Bonk, Edkay Delvibane, Kove Splate, Yaude Wireflape, and Ky Ly's lover, Svorguv Diir. Then Ky Ly invited us for some dinner below, and when I approached the table, I grabbed a big black coat that was draped over a chair and moved it to another chair against the wall. I was halfway through the process of sitting down when I realized the entire room had grown suddenly silent, all eyes focused on me. "What?" I said. No one responded. Finally, Baw Veppen spoke. "Did you just move that coat?" "Uh, yeah. Why--was I not supposed to touch it?" Ky Ly moved toward me. "Try to move it again," she said. "Uh, okay," I said, puzzled. Turning around, I grabbed the coat, lifted it, then dropped it back to the chair. "I'll be damned," Ky Ly said. "What?" I asked, getting a little impatient. "What's wrong?" "Hold on a second," the pirate girl said, and she came beside me and tried to grab the coat herself. She tried her best, but she couldn't budge it at all from where I dropped it. "I don't get it," I said. She looked right at me, pointing at the coat. "That's Edkay's Greatcoat. It's an immovable object, except to him. None of us could get it off that chair." "So?" "So--somehow you're able to move it." "Okay..." I said, confused. Granticaine came up to us. "You mean, Ky Ly, that I couldn't move the coat? At all?" he said. "You shouldn't be able to," she said. So Granticaine grabbed at the Greatcoat with no luck. Then he bent over, placing his hands behind the Greatcoat and pulling with all his might. It remained completely unmoved. My friend turned to me. "Let's see you do it again," he said. I shrugged and picked up the Greatcoat with no problem. I mean, it was a little heavy, but not immovable. "Edkay had Royalhero K/N Channel heritage," Ky Ly said. "He thought that might have been why he could take the coat." "I'm royalty," I said, "but I don't know what all that means." "He must really be dead--the coat only accepts one hero at a time. So it's yours, if you want it," she said. I carefully picked up the Greatcoat and looked at it. "This is the coat I've heard of--with all the cool stuff inside and everything?" I asked. "Yup," Ky Ly said. "And it's mine now?" "Uh-huh." "Huh." As everyone watched me, I slowly put the Greatcoat on. As soon as it was on, it felt a whole lot lighter. I also became aware of things about the coat--like a sixth sense, I could feel conduits of force and power within the coat. And I knew it was mine. I remember that we sat down to eat, but my mind was racing--racing in the ways of the Greatcoat. I felt powerful and calm--and nowhere near connected to the conversations going on around me. Ten more people for Daptin's Land--ten more contributors to the gene pool it seems. Daptin has been hinting this way for a few days now--acting like he's joking, but I know he's serious. He wants to populate his Land. And people are the only animals he has. Ten Primates, Overwhelm primadonnas like me. Bellicose Billion, Norlime Eckert, Ow Muchy Moyar, Toggle Joseph, Ky Ly Quids, Caffeine, Baw Veppen, Zoipin Jurple Jupter, Flicker Sa, and of course, Hilltop Jone Rallity. A nice bunch. Half boys, half girls. Nice. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 15: WEAVER CHAPTER 18 SR-139 ============================== SRwv018--"The Best Nap" ============================== I don't know. I just wasn't with it after I put the Greatcoat on. Granticaine was explaining it all to them, how we'd leave them with a Warhome when we left and everything. But I know what I wanted to do. I didn't eat a thing, and about fifteen minutes after we sat down, I excused myself without concern for decorum and went up to the deck. Looking up, I saw that even grid of stars in the sky, and a few shapes floating here and there. And I knew I wanted to rise up, to be up there with those things. I extended my arms outward at my sides, and willed myself to rise, which I did. Cool, I thought--now I can fly. I remember all those dreams I used to have--about gaining the ability to fly, and the big let-down when I'd wake up and realize it was only a dream. But now--now I was flying. Flying straight up, my head tilted back, looking up. Soon the galleon and the two Warhomes were barely-visible specks below me. The air pressure began to thin considerably, but it didn't bother me--somehow, the coat was protecting me, as I knew it would. I rose faster and faster, and soon it was apparent that these stars weren't millions of light years away, but only a couple hundred miles above the surface. And before I knew it, I was at the level of the plane of the stars--which shone in a straight line all around me. I headed for the nearest one, and got to it in a few minutes. Maybe the size of a golf ball the thing was--a brilliant little light burning oh so bright. I reached out to touch it, but knew that wouldn't be possible. Every time I got half the remaining distance to it, I kept going slower and slower. So I forgot about touching it and looked upward at the firmament, the dome which covered Daptin's Land. I rose, and it was only about a mile before I got to it. I was black, deep black, with very little texture--but enough so that I could see it in the light of the stars from below. It was right above me, and when I held my hand up, I touched it. It felt like stone, but infinitely more sturdy. It made me feel good to touch it. This was the vaulted ceiling above this world. I regarded with contempt the model of the universe I was taught in school--about the aching void of space, about how small our world was in the scheme of things. All nonsense, of course. There was a firmament just like this one over the Earth I came from. I knew about it, I knew it all. I was getting it from the coat. The coat was full of information. I looked down at Daptin's Land, maybe the only place left in all of everything. I could have flown back to the Center of Creation much faster than in my Warhome, but I didn't want to leave Granticaine stranded. But there was time. I floated up so that my back was to the firmament, and I rested there. I put my hands behind my head and relaxed all the muscles in my body, just hanging there, suspended by the Greatcoat, gazing down at Creation. And I had a little nap--the best nap I ever had. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 15: WEAVER CHAPTER 19 SR-140 ============================== SRwv019--"22 Girls and 23 Boys" ============================== "Everybody, I have an announcement to make. Something incredible will happen this evening," Daptin Gone said. I was uncomfortable here, it just seemed too weird. The main hall of Daptin's House, sitting at a huge table, having dinner. The thing is, just about EVERYONE in this world is sitting around me at the table. I looked around me at all the people--a crazy bunch. Daptin's Land--population 45. I think Daptin was playing cupid and matchmaker with his powers--everyone seemed to be furtively scanning the group for a possible mate. I have to admit, I was doing it too. It's funny how things worked out. 22 girls and 23 boys. Considering all the chaos that surrounded everyone getting here, there's no way Daptin could have planned it--or is there? I don't know. There are some pretty hot babes, though. I hate to admit it, but the ones I'm drawn to the most are those devil girls--from that Yellowhaus thing when it appeared the other day. Insurance and Lemon--I think those are their names. God damn hot. I may as well record a list of all the people here in Daptin's Land. There's me, Prince Ferrajalt, and the nine others I came through with--Ledrant Hate, Injure Bodoni, Ann Saply, Amnifaoz, Nevrippa Den, Vike Varmabey, Treyess Arcomany, Sleap Drassy, and V Sincein. From the Urbandersnacheron there are another ten--Baw Veppen, Flicker Sa, Hilltop Jone Rallity, Norlime Eckert, Caffeine, Zoipin Jurple Jupter, Ky Ly Quids, Ow Muchy Moyar, Bellicose Billion, and Toggle Joseph. That's twenty. From that Yellowhaus thing there are the two demonic lovelies I just mentioned, Insurance and Lemon, as well as, I think, Chamomile, Sulfur, Buff, and Canary. Yeah. So there's twenty-six. Then there are these totally bizarre people who call themselves "Cup's Club". The leader is some sort of god named Coabler the Sawman. The others are Classic of Logic, Demolish All, Kesh the Vector, Pattern Integrity, Tickle the Monster, and--get this--Bith the Silly Train. So where are we at--thirty-three? Yeah. Of course, one person I wish I'd never see again is Red Archer Booze--still rooming with Treyess, by the way. She makes thirty-four. Granticaine Chug Perion and the rest of Provocation Team D--Wreckage Mallie, Iterator of Rail Avenue, and Pantry Lurkin--make thirty-eight. Then there's Daptin Gone, of course, and some of his friends from that alternate world Agoopish--Fake Cerquaine, Jerald Hapal Hatch, Spanking New Sarah, Pine Run Glara, Tavmatey Numblem, and Millicent. And that makes forty-five! Yeah, so I was sitting there at the table, feeling weird. It was hard to believe that this was all that was left of the entire multiverse. Forty-five weirdoes in a room. For some reason, my thoughts turned to Engiondofer Castle, the traditional home of my royal ancestors. I've always felt a strong affinity with it, and even now, I could sense its presence, somewhere out there. With this feeling, I felt sure that somehow, someday, it would be possible to return home. Anyway, after Daptin announced that something was gonna happen later, everyone kept asking him what it was, but he wouldn't say. I don't know about Daptin--he seems so old now. Not that he looks old, just that he acts like he's ancient. That Spanking New Sarah is always at his side. I guess they're going out, or whatever. I've heard that she wants to be Queen of Daptin's Land. Apparently, she granted him sexual favors when she was high and mighty and he was a nobody. Maybe now she was looking for some payback. Who knows? One thing is for sure--Daptin had to set a good example for his breeding stock--I don't think forty-five people was enough for him. He wanted some baby-making to start happening. The dinner itself was nice as usual--just a bunch of fruits, juices, foodstuff from Warhomes--all laid out on the table, so you could just reach out and take whatever you wanted. No servants, of course. Just a bunch of powerful oddballs, most of them deluded. I talked to Baw Veppen mostly during the meal. She was originally from a tribe of low-tech folks--seems she was their prophesied savior. Unfortunately, she didn't some through for her people when they expected her to. She was barely two months into her self-imposed exile when Overwhelm recruited her. We got into a discussion about the whole "why me" thing. "You know what I mean?" Baw said. "For as long as I can remember, I always asked 'why me'? Why am I the Chakilool, the Savior? And then, when I failed my people, I asked, why am I the Chakilool who failed?" "I know what you mean," I said, fiddling with some grapelike fruits on my plate. "I often wonder myself how I managed to be born into a royal family, heir to the throne. I mean, what are the chances?" "Right," she said, wiping her mouth with a napkin. "And now of course, all this. All the universe gone, but somehow, I manage to be one of those who survive--one of less than fifty. It's 'why me' all over again." "Yeah," I said. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 15: WEAVER CHAPTER 20 SR-141 ============================== SRwv020--"The One in Yellow" ============================== Baw was kind of boring, but she was okay. Her handsome, plain features had a dignity. Her quiet, reserved, sane manner was a welcome change from the psychos I'm used to dealing with. She mentioned a few times that she was a virgin--another refreshing thing about her. Most superpowerfuls--myself included--seemed to delight in all manner of sexual excess. So I really didn't view Baw in a sexual way. She didn't turn me on at all (not like those devil girls). Thing is, I get the impression she's sweet on me. Not that she'd ever act on it--I can tell from her personality that I'd have to be the one to initiate things. And she DID tell me that she was relieved to get off her Earth--apparently she felt that her vow of celibacy (imposed on her since birth) was invalid off her world. Taking a Savior's virginity? I have to admit the thought did give me a little thrill. But again, it was of the perverse sort--just the idea of popping God's cherry, y'know? Ah, whatever. What kind of sicko am I becoming? As I talked to Baw, my gaze constantly drifted over to the devil girls, and it was like a jolt when the one in yellow--Lemon--returned the glance. How sweet she was. My heart raced and my stomach was full of butterflies. And the eye contact lasted longer than such a thing usually does. Those eyes! Deep violet, round, alluring, above such a lovely nose and mouth--I was floating in her visage. Finally, I smiled and looked away awkwardly. She was definitely the one for me. The other devil girl--Insurance--was hot too--but somehow she didn't have the--potency--of Lemon. And somehow I knew--I knew that the Greatcoat (presently back in my room at Bay House) would help me in getting together with Lemon. Her fangs DID look awfully sharp, and beneath her luscious exterior I saw that she could deal some major damage. With the coat on though--I'd be impervious to any real harm--I could make love to her like a devil without fearing for my life. I wondered if what I heard was true--that Lemon was heir to the throne of her Earth's hell--but that she rejected the whole thing, and the only way she could escape her infernal family was to take a vow of goodness--apparently a pretty difficult thing for a devil to go. But she did--she swore to do good--and she got away. I tell ya boy, I can think of some good things she could do for me... Heir to the throne... so we did have a lot in common. Baw stopped talking, and I realized she was expecting a response from me, but I hadn't heard a thing she said. "What?" I asked. "Nothing," Baw said, lowering her head and looking very unhappy. I felt horrible for being so obvious. I knew Baw liked me, yet I was flirting with another girl across the table, and ignoring Baw. I was trying to figure out what to say to her when Daptin rose to his feet at the head of the table and spoke. "Okay everybody--it's time to go outside and see something remarkable." We all went outside, and Daptin led us down to the bay. "Look," Daptin said, point across the body of water. I looked, and saw a dark shape in the distance, surrounded by occasional flashes of light. "What is it?" Demolish All asked. "You'll all see, very soon," Daptin said with a smile. A let out a little sarcastic laugh and looked over at Baw with a critical sneer. She smiled back at me sweetly. I wasn't thrilled by this guessing game, and I guess she wasn't either. The dark shape grew larger and larger pretty fast, until I was able to make something out. It looked like a little storm cloud--like a concentrated thunderstorm--but there was some sort of structure on top. And as it came closer, I saw that the structure was like a big house with a slanted roof and lots of windows. And through the cloud, I could faintly see the outline of a vehicle. And... hmm...it looked like the house part on top was a sort of control tower. The thing approached the shore, and we were all hit with a strong wind, misty with water droplets. A few close lightning strikes shook us with their thunder. A lot of folks were now pestering Daptin for an explanation, but he kept quiet, just staring calmly up at the enormous vehicle. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 15: WEAVER CHAPTER 21 SR-142 ============================== SRwv021--"Stormbolthouse Leitmotif" ============================== Without much delay, a small craft flew from the vehicle and came toward us. It was a sleek little aircraft with swept-back wings and what appeared to be armaments. It landed a ways down the beach from us, and Daptin led us toward it. "Is this what the rest of our life is gonna be like?" I asked Baw. "I hope not," she said. Then I regretted saying 'our life'--as if I was gonna spend the rest of my life with Baw. I certainly didn't want to. Or give her that impression. As we approached the craft, two people got out of it. In a moment, I saw that one of them was Injure Bodoni, wearing a weird sort of gray robe. The other person was... I don't know... a short woman, in the same sort of robe. Huh. I wondered what happened to Ann Saply, the little cat lady that Injure always hung out with. Unless... was this what I thought it was? Did she transform into a human so the creep could have a girlfriend? "Greetings everyone," Injure shouted as we approached. The wind was still going very strong, as the giant vehicle hovered in the air over the bay. "Greetings, Injure!" Daptin said. "I see you found considerable success in your venture." "That is yet to be determined. But the Stormbolthouse Leitmotif is a fine ship, to be sure!" Injure said. Now that I was closer, I saw that the woman bore some resemblance to Ann Saply--and I knew I was right about it. "Ann?" Daptin said, looking at the woman. "It's me," she said, smiling. "Found it a little awkward to share romance in my central form." Bingo! How predictable. So they had to relieve Injure's clogged-up pipes to get him to work his technical magic for them. Beautiful. Everyone sort of feel silent at Ann's comment--at the idea of going out of your way to have romance with a nerd like Injure. "Indeed," Daptin finally said. "So may we board?" "Yup," Injure said. "Okay people, listen up." I hated it when he tried to take charge of things. What a little freak! "I'm going to activate to mass boarding function," Injure continued. "It'll send out multiple Wavers like the one we came in on. Each one will sit two. Just get in, and it'll automatically carry you back into the Leitmotif." Baw looked up at me and I gave her a smug sort of "I don't know, this is so stupid" look. With her expression and body language, I could tell she wanted to go into the Waver with me, and with my body language I assured her we would. Whatever. Injure went back inside his Waver for a moment and then came right back out. "Okay people, here they come!" I looked up at the Leitmotif (I guess that was its name) and didn't see anything immediately, but then--yes--a whole formation of the little Wavers was coming toward us. "Cool," I said, looking over a Baw, who smiled. Soon the Wavers were landing all around us, and I approached one. The hatch opened on it, and I motioned for Baw to enter before me, which she did. I knew how to be a gentleman when I wanted to be. Then I got in, and the hatch closed. The smell inside the thing had the same "new car" sort of smell that Warhomes have when they're freshly woven. Could it be this Stormbolthouse Leitmotif was another vehicle the matter handlers were capable of weaving? A few moments after the hatch closed, the Waver quickly and deftly took off, and the Leitmotif and the storm that surrounded it loomed closer and closer. I looked back at Baw, and she smiled in wonderment and fear and confusion. "I know what we're gonna find in there--" I said, "--a whole bunch of Injure Bodoni clones." Baw laughed. "If there are, we're gonna turn this thing right back around!" she said. And I laughed, too. Not that either of us said anything that funny, just that we needed to laugh a little right then, I think. We soon entered the cloud, and for a few moments we couldn't see anything. Then everything suddenly got darker and we were in some sort of tunnel. I took a deep breath. After a few seconds, the tunnel broke open into a large, multilevel hangar, full of Wavers, with some other vehicles as well--including one Warhome. Our Waver found its way through the swarm of other Wavers also entering the hangar, and we set down on a little landing pad. "Well, we're here!" I said, standing up as the hatch above us opened. "Amazing," Baw said. "Yup," I responded. "Okay folks," I heard Daptin say over a loudspeaker. "We're gonna continue our dinner here in the Leitmotif. Just head for the exit with the flashing blue light." I looked around and saw the door he referred to. I turned to Baw and said "I wish I could have a Warhome like this!" "Yeah!" she said. And we started walking toward the door. Soon we were in the banquet hall of the Leitmotif, sitting at an ornate table, albeit without any food. "Injure informs me," Daptin said, "that he's having trouble with his food systems. I told him it was okay, since we already had a good meal." Some people laughed. Why, I don't know. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 15: WEAVER CHAPTER 22 SR-143 ============================== SRwv022--"Techno-Jargon" ============================== "Anyway," Daptin continued, "I think I'll fill you in on just what's going on here. Okay. I think all of you have been to my Bridge, and have seen what lies beyond the railing. As you know, what you're seeing there is all of reality, viewed from an outside perspective. Up until now, we haven't been able to safely enter this space, because of how matter is warped around the opening. And while I have great power in my Land, it doesn't extend too far beyond. So clearly, we faced a dilemma--exploring the remnants of reality is vital--but how to get there? Well, that's where Injure Bodoni comes in." Everyone looked at Injure, and he acted kind of shy, but still clearly slurping up the praise. Daptin continued. "I asked him if he could figure out some way to use a matter handler to create a vehicle that could cross into the superreal space and allow us to travel there. He said he'd give it a shot, and the rest is all around you. I think he can explain better than I exactly what he did. Injure?" Injure stood up and looked over the crowd. Then he began. "The Warhome matter handlers are designed to weave other Warhomes of the same exact design, except for the call numbers. So what I had to do was to warp reality to the point that I caused the matter handler to 'think' it was designed to weave something else. Daptin helped me a lot in this, easing up the fabric of local reality to help me do my thing. I made it happen to be a vehicle which could crossover into superreal space. And hopefully, that's what I've woven." Injure continued on with his techno-jargon for some time, and a lot of people were getting up and milling around. Me and Baw retreated to a smaller table in the corner of the room and started talking. "Well, I don't know," I said. "I guess this is a step in the right direction." "Yeah, " Baw said, "so what was it he said again? About the matter handlers? That the ones inside here will create another Stormbolthouse?" "I guess that's what he's saying, but he used so much jargon I couldn't understand him." "I know, I know." Baw's gaze was so--complex. Those dark eyes, both adoring and piercing... "So what the hell," I said. "How did we get into such a strange lifestyle as this? I mean, just a few years ago, you and me--we were both living it up as royalty, the world as our oyster and all that. Now look at us." She smiled. "Yeah," she said."But I don't know. I never felt comfortable in my position. I always felt like such a phony. People kept telling me what awesome powers I had and everything, but I never felt any. So I just faked my way--there was no way I could disappoint everyone like that. But when the time came, I just didn't have what it took." "So now what--if you don't mind me asking--what exactly happened that you failed your people?" She shook her head to indicate she didn't mind and leaned forward, leaning on the table. "Well, it was a story, a prophesy. About how the underdog comes through and eventually wins. See, my tribe has been downtrodden by a much larger tribe for many centuries. We've been enslaved, murdered, raped, killed, all that, by them--especially when they didn't have much else to occupy them. Anyway, a great prophet--around 75 years before I was born--predicted that a woman child would come, you know, and all that, and in a time of great crisis between our people would defeat the bad tribe and make everything cool for our people. Well, you know what, the time came--the other tribe was developing several mines, and they needed a bunch of slaves, and guess where they looked to--us. And the strongest of us had just been decimated by a horde of wild predatory animals--so the thought of losing so many more able-bodied persons was just--let's just say it would have meant the end of us." I nodded. Pretty interesting story. She continued. "So we knew of their intention to enslave us for awhile, but there really wasn't anything we could do--and the people had such faith in me they hardly even worried about it. Then the first enemy parties came, and began selecting their slaves. I was totally unprepared--in fact, they chose me as one of the first ones! Well, when they found out who I was, they let me go, but... but I mean, I didn't know what to do. They considered me bad luck I guess. But what they said to me--I mean, it's funny, I guess. I mean, it sort of fits into this whole world we're in now. But they said they also had a prophesy, about me beating them and stuff, and that THEY would also have a savior, who would somehow prevent my powers from ever fully developing. And I guess that's what must have happened, 'cause I didn't do a damn thing. They just came and took all these people and I didn't do a thing. And THAT was just for some sort of exploratory mission in the mines--they didn't even get started yet with the serious mining." "Man!" I said. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 15: WEAVER CHAPTER 23 SR-144 ============================== SRwv023--"Non-Understandable" ============================== "Yeah, Ferrajalt," Baw said, "let me tell you. There I was, and it was like, so weird. We all went about our lives like normal, but it was like--people acting so strange when they talked to me, as if they were expecting me to reveal some sort of incredible plan to save our people. I mean, I was their ONLY hope in the whole world. Nothing--nothing else could have helped us. But I was just confused--I never wanted to be savior, so I was like, sorry folks, I never asked for this job, so don't blame me if I can't do it. But of course they did." "So what happened?" "Well, the Keoptenbarc--you know, the other tribe--they came back and took more people, and then the elders had to confront me. I mean, the story--the prophesy--was so joyous, so--I don't know--so smug, like as if the little guy always wins in the end--as if good always prevails over evil. I told them the key thing was that the story was on paper and our people were on the ground--I told them the prophesy was wrong, that I wasn't the savior, and that our whole tribe was totally screwed." "Jeez!" "Yeah--and they were mad, but they were all so scared of me--still thinking I WAS the savior--that they didn't do anything. And that night, my mother had a talk with me, and she felt it would be best if I left the village, so that's what I did. After I was gone a few days and everything started to sink in, I started crying a lot. More about how all my friends and family were being enslaved and hurt and maybe even killed. And I kept thinking, I should have told them--I should have let them know that I was a phony--then maybe they would have sought an alternate course of action and not depended on me so much. But, I guess it doesn't matter much any more. They're gone, along with everything else. Or so I assume." "Well hopefully with this ship we'll be able to find that out." "Yeah," she said. "So what happened--you were only living alone for a few months before Overwhelm got in touch with you?" "Yup," she said brightly. "Was there about two months. Not even. It was like I was living in a daze. Only my mother came to see me, and only about once a week at that. And each time she came, something more horrible had happened. After awhile I just blocked it all out, and it didn't register. It's like, just, like most of me shut down. So when Overwhelm called, it was a wake-up call. I told Jake when I met her in my P-Vest, I told her get me out of here ASAP. And that's what she did. I left a note for my mom and took off. I never felt better than when I was stepping through that first bridge, not even looking back." "Whew!" I said. "You had a pretty tough time." "That's putting it mildly. And then--then I had to wonder--what made me the Primate of my Earth? Being that I was such a failure? But as you know, the algorithm is non-understandable, so why try?" I nodded my head, and then looked over to see Zoipin Jurple Jupter coming over. One of the most bizarre people in Daptin's Land, Zoipin is this tall, thin bird guy of some sort--with a long beak and a wide-brimmed hat. And man, what a weird guy. I mean, in his personality, too. "May I join you?" he said. "Sure," Baw said. Zoipin sat down, looking a little uncomfortable as usual having to sit in a chair designed for humans. "Some kind of thing going on here, eh?" Zoipin said. "You know it," I said. "Something new every day." "Yeah," the bird guy said. "You know, I heard some of the others talking--they said that no one--no one at all now, mind you--has ever been in superreal space. They say we're going to be the first." "What's this 'we' business?" I asked. "They're not planning on going through Daptin's Bridge with all of us on board!" Zoipin shook his head. "Nope. Nope. I just meant 'we' as in us as a people, us of Daptin's Land." "Oh," I said. "Good. I'm not gonna risk my life out there--it doesn't mean that much to me." "You know guys," Zoipin said, "they say there's another Land out there--they say they've seen it through a telescope. Another Land like Daptin's. And they're going there tomorrow. That is, whoever gets to go on the first mission." Baw looked at me, and I looked at her, then back at Zoipin. "Yes," Zoipin said. "We are not alone." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 15: WEAVER CUPLINE'S END ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 16: BILLION'S DRIFTING 15 Chapters--SR-145 thru SR-159 ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 16: BILLION'S DRIFTING CHAPTER 1 SR-145 ============================== SRbd001--"A Train Park" ============================== I'VE BEEN ALL OVER. I'VE EXPERIENCED SO MUCH. BUT I'M MORE CONFUSED THAN EVER. What can it all mean? So many years devoted to a scale railroad, what does it all mean? I had to sell it. Do you know what that does to me? MY sweat. MY blood. MY pain. And now it belongs to a fool who inherited the money he used to buy my little railroad. Where's the justice in that? He said I could still ride it whenever I want, but it's not the same. He knew I wouldn't want to. That's why he made the offer. If he thought I wanted to, he would never have made the offer. I have a little money now. I can be comfortable for a year or three now. But what about after that? Will there be an "after that"? Maybe I'll get lucky and the world will end. INVEST IT! That's what he said to me. LAST ME THE REST OF MY LIFE! Yeah pal, we'll see how much longer my life will be. Could be a dollar would last me for the rest of my life, if I decide to end it all. Haha! Crazy stuff! All my life... always waiting... To think--to think I thought that once I opened my little amusement park, women would like me because of my success. I never made the effort--the thought of going out to a bar and approaching women and asking them out... more than I could bear... I just thought that when my whole train project was complete... it would all just HAPPEN. They ran that documentary about me from about ten years ago. Jesus I was young. They made it all look so bright, so promising. Yeah. I've been part of the community. I've been to schools, given my talks, seen the bright, innocent eyes of those boys, minds alive with explosive fantasies of little trains. How they all wanted to be me. I always used to look at my friends with their dreary little wives and felt quietly happy that I would never meet such a terrible fate, that my dream girl was waiting for me once I opened my train park. Now of course, I wish I had one of those bad little wives. I wish that I had one, even if I only made love to her once a month, even if we both hated each other more and more each passing week. At least she'd be there. At least, even if we did split, I would have HAD her for the time we were together. But now... the graph me... over the hump, on my way down... Maybe the secret of life is learning to ENJOY misery. If so, I'm a slow learner. You know, everything I once had in my life--I didn't realize it--but everything I had, I systematically shut down. I didn't have room for anything but my train park. Now that my train park is gone... I don't know what I'm going to do... I fear that I'm a creep--that I don't have any human graces, that I'm inappropriate in all circumstances. Emotionally, I'm weak. I can't deal with all the rejection and embarrassment. And I think of one kid during my school lecture days... he was pudgy, wore glasses... but the look in his eyes... God, it makes me want to cry every time I recall it. He WANTED TO BE ME. God how I could see into his little mind... the thought of these tiny trains that you could ride around... through all these fantastic places. In his mind, the dreams of unbounded coolness. And I wonder, I think, I think that the greatest tragedy in the world would be for him to see me as I am now. No. No way. I couldn't bear something like that. But he's got to be older now. He's been battling life, he's probably beaten to a pulp now, just like me. A heavy kid, a dorky kid--he probably never got any girls. He's probably in his own private hell right now. Maybe he's going off to college... haha... anyone can get laid in college... that's what they say... I even got laid in my college days... sort of... Yeah. I'm losing it. I CAN'T STAND IT ANYMORE. You know, I wrote about killing myself before, and I can't believe I'm saying it, but I gotta... NO--no no no no no. I'm in... I'm not in a rational state of mind. I gotta just relax, let go, not think. I'm not myself right now. No. No no no... So--where do I go from here? Am I so shallow that the only thing I care about is women? I mean, what about my dreams? I mean, didn't I always have all my other grandiose visions, of which the train park was holding me back? Wasn't I? Can't I now pursue these? Can't I? No. I don't know. It's all too much. I can't think anymore. PLEASE JUST LET ME GO. Who? Who should let me go? I don't know. I just feel that there's someone SQUEEZING me. Do you know what I mean? SQUEEZING ME. I can't explain it. I've been thinking of travelling, but I'd burn through my money much faster then. But who cares? I'll piss it all away and then go on a shooting spree when it's gone, taking out as many other people as I can before I myself am shot by the police. Yeah. That's something a sane person would write. Yeah. Look, where is this all heading? -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 16: BILLION'S DRIFTING CHAPTER 2 SR-146 ============================== SRbd002--"Memories of Drifter's Eye" ============================== I have no capacity to live. That's what it means. "You must live." What? Oh god no. Voices in my head? I'm really cracked. I better find a doctor NOW. "Hush. I may be a voice in your head, but I'm not here because you're insane--I'm here to make sure you DON'T go insane." I don't want this... "Now listen. I am your friend. I am familiar with you. If you work with me, we can fix all this mess." Why am I hearing this? "You're hearing this because you're lucky. You think all those people who hear voices in their heads are crazy? There's too many of them. They can't all be nuts." I don't believe in this. "Fine. You know what? You don't want me to help? Get screwed. I have an audience now--people are reading this, and I'm not going to waste this chance by pissing around with you." I AM NOT HEARING THIS. I AM NOT HEARING THIS. "Fine. You won't hear another thing. Goodbye. I could have helped you, but... Oh well, he's tuned out. Now it's just you and me, dear reader. I've wished for a long time for an opportunity such as this. Now I can tell my story, and people will listen to me. Now then... where do I begin? "Oh yes. I used to be real once. But what I did was so bad that I was forced, by these mean gods, to help thousands of people before I make up for what I did. But I found a way to fuck those gods good man. You know what I'm saying? I kept my eyes opened, and I found it. Now those gods are fucked and I am free and I am talking to you. You know what I mean? "I love comedies. All that stuff about people from different places acting in different stupid ways... spending too much or too little money... lusting after women a lot or a little... thinking too much or too little... and all of it exaggerated. "All the chaos in me, I stuck my dick in those gods and came, and all the evil in me screwed those fuckers over. That's speaking in allegorical terms, but you can see what I mean. "I used to make prank calls to businesses. I'd say 'You owe me money you bastards. Let me talk to Sal.' And they'd get all bent out of shape. "Killing is just one of those things. I know that I'll face an even greater retribution for what I did to those gods than for any killing I ever did in the real world. It's funny--all the shit I did, and I get to just hang out and try and help people--some punishment--eh?--I shoulda killed more of the bastards! "Yeah, now I have a platform. Now I have... uh oh. The gods are coming. Huh. Guess my little stunt didn't quite work out the way I thought it would. Ah, who cares. Whatever happens, I'm so numb by now, that it won't hurt me." Severe. Where am I? I'm going through all these transformations. I know it's not a dream. I'm really there. I have to gain control. A guy who made a train park and then had to sell it to a rich kid. An evil spirit given the chance to help people throws it all away. And me... who am I? Memories of Drifter's Eye. Vem Ekera the wristwatch, Arvin Icefellow, trapped in ice of his own making. And a cartoon world. Now I know that I'm falling. I remember. I remember that I'm falling. I know who I am. I'm Bellicose Billion, and I jumped off the end of Daptin's Bridge, because of what was happening. I know... I remember now... -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 16: BILLION'S DRIFTING CHAPTER 3 SR-147 ============================== SRbd003--"Banished" ============================== We were all on Stormbolthouse Leitmotif, and something happened--we all blacked out. When we finally woke up, a bunch of us were missing. When we got back to Daptin's Land, we found out that Daptin Gone--who had CREATED that world--had been BANISHED. I couldn't believe it. Red Archer Booze had gotten Sleap Drassy under the erotic influence of her bottle. And, she got Sleap to give Daptin the boot, in exchange for sexual favors. Then Booze was in control. She brought us all together, those of us that were left, and declared that orgy was law. We all found it very hard to resist, and... and nearly everyone started having sex with everyone else... not a pretty sight, considering all the non-humans among us (Buff of Yellowhaus stands out in my mind). I had a mind-blowing encounter with the devil girl Insurance, but realizing that it was all so wrong, I snuck away while most of the others were sleeping--we were all in this big room that Booze had constructed for the ongoing orgy. But someone always had to be having sex with someone else--that was the law. Earlier that day--the first day back--when Booze was informing us of our new lifestyle, Sleap spoke up--while Booze was licking her ass--and told us of her plans. "I'm an explorer," she said. "And this is the place I've spent millennia trying to get to. This whole orgy thing is a pleasant diversion, but nothing will hold me back from my goal. The girl now orally pleasuring my backside is an interesting little puppy--quite powerful in her own right--but she's nothing compared to me. So I want you all to know, that from this vantage point in the universe, I can finally access Gnoboslast at just the right angle--just the right angle to pierce it--OOH!" She responded to something Booze was doing to her, but then continued. "None of you understand the structure of the universe, and I won't bore you with the details--we all have much better things to do in the present--but let me just say, Gnoboslast IS the impenetrable EDGE of the universe. Few are aware of it, fewer still have ever gone there. And MUCH fewer still have ever returned. Well, I have... been there... and let me tell you... I must be the only one... who ever..." She was having trouble concentrating on what she was saying, because Booze had her in the throes of passion. She moaned and enjoyed an orgasm, and then smiled and continued on. "I have seen a weakness in Gnoboslast. I, who have risen to the highest levels of power in the universe--I am constantly denied access to That Which Came Before and That Which Exists Outside. But I will have my triumph. I will penetrate the stuff of Gnoboslast and finally... FINALLY... see what's out there..." I spoke up. "Excuse me, miss," I said. "But what will be the aftermath of such a violation of the order of things?" She raised an eyebrow. "I imagine, Mr. Billion, that it will certainly wipe out of existence most, if not all, of this universe." "So," I said, "you plan on destroying the universe, and all that's holding you back is the promise of unfettered group sex?" She laughed. "Now come on. Don't knock unfettered group sex. I need this kind of vacation before pushing off into the next horizon. But don't worry--I won't let this evil little vixen behind me prevent me from attaining my goal." "That's what you think," Booze said, and then she plunged her tongue into Sleap. Sleap smiled and closed her eyes. "No Booze--it's not what I THINK--it's what I KNOW." So I went through a day of that madness, managing to restrict my carnal activities to Insurance the devil girl. I have to admit, I had been eyeing her and her sister Lemon ever since I set eyes on them. Something about a devil girl... so sexy... But anyway, I crept away and walked to Daptin's Bridge. I knew that Sleap was telling the truth--somehow, I knew. And I had to warn somebody--I had to get to Daptin, because if anybody could stop her, it was him. I grasped the balcony at the end of the bridge and stared out over the dark vista--a sight far too complex for a human mind to make sense of. I stood there for a long time, all the while fearing that Booze would come to bring me back to her orgy. But she didn't. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 16: BILLION'S DRIFTING CHAPTER 4 SR-148 ============================== SRbd004--"Virginity" ============================== I don't know what it was... maybe it was the fear of being coerced into having sex with another man... something which I'd already seen happen that first day... I don't know... maybe that was a driving force more than trying to save the universe. But anyway, in the end, I very calmly climbed over the edge of the balcony, stood there for a few minutes, and then let go. I've been drifting ever since. I don't know if I'll ever land, if I'll ever find myself anywhere coherent. All I know is that I drift in and out of various consciousnesses... minds and awarenesses floating around the ruined universe all around me... I wish I could concentrate enough to try and focus on something, but it's not going to happen... I don't even have a body anymore, I don't think. Huh. I wonder if this is the fate that's befallen EVERYONE since the universe crashed. A universe full of confused, disembodied souls... maybe it's good that Sleap is going to end it all... I don't know. My thoughts always snap back to Insurance... we had such a wonderful time together. I just wish we could have been alone... not that the others were taking much notice of us... I could have fallen in love with her if my heart didn't feel so dead... She was concerned as to what had happened to her sister Lemon. I guess Lemon must have disappeared while we were unconscious on the Leitmotif. I wonder if she wasn't just plain killed by Booze... maybe she was a rival in power... but that doesn't make any sense... wouldn't Insurance have been just as powerful? I thought about asking Insurance to come with me, but like I said, my heart was feeling dead, and I didn't have the will to wake the demonic lovely up. She was a virgin, you know--I found it very hard to believe--and she told me "I'm chock full of secrets," Must be one of her powers--the ability to restore her virginity on command. Weird power... For now I drift. All I have is hope--based on a vague feeling of certainty. Hope... and encouragement... the good feeling that comes from existence... knowing that Sleap Drassy is still being tongued and fucked... and not demolishing all of reality. Daptin Gone... wherever you are... I call to you... hear me... you must stop Sleap Drassy... and... if it's not too much trouble, maybe you could save me from this terrible drifting... -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 16: BILLION'S DRIFTING CHAPTER 5 SR-149 ============================== SRbd005--"The Slumberotica System" ============================== "We are very excited to announce our new product--The Slumberotica System--which is nothing less than the greatest innovation in the world of sex since the discovery of masturbation." The audience laughed. "Using our patented reality-distorting technology, we have developed a means to tap into any individual, and have them physically manifest in your bed, ready for sex. To them, it's just a run-of-the-mill sex dream--that's how they'll remember it. But for you, it all takes place in total physical reality. "We have done extensive testing--which I have participated in firsthand--much to the chagrin of my wife!" The audience laughed again. "And the great thing is, the dream-bodies are totally nonreactive. Now, I know what you're thinking, but no--I don't mean that they just lay there--on the contrary--" He flashed the crowd a sly smile. "--what I mean is that no pregnancy will ever occur as a result of using this technique, nor will any disease be transmitted. Now, I know what you're thinking--this is too good to be true. Well, it would be, but I do have a list of a few negatives--but somehow I don't think ANY negative would hurt sales of THIS product too badly." More laughter. "Because of the unique state of reality during a Slumberotica session, no one but the operator of the Slumberotica equipment may perceive the dream-manifestation. If such a perception is imminent, the manifestation will instantly phase out, and the operator will have bad reality waves for about a week. As it is, with normal use, the operator will experience mild reality waves for as little as six hours, to as much as a day after the manifestation phases out normally. So, no threesomes or moresomes, all you sexual adventurists out there. In addition, any form of mechanical recording, such as photography, videotaping, or audio recording, will similarly cause the dream body to vanish." The speaker cleared his throat. "The unit itself is compact, and worn as a bracelet. If removed during the course of the Slumberotica session, it will cause disruption, just as if another person was about to perceive the manifestation. Now we get to another negative--cost--this product took us years to develop, and the manufacturing process is ridiculously complex and time-consuming. As a result, The Slumberotica System will retail for about $30,000. But once you buy it, you'll have a lifetime of unbelievable sex ahead of you." "Now, I'm sure a lot of you out there are saying to yourselves, this is great, but isn't it immoral to invade someone's dreams like this? Well, we had the same concerns, so we hired noted ethicist Jack Pollet to examine the situation. His findings, in his own words--" The speaker put on a pair of reading glasses and read from a sheet of paper." "--The Slumberotica System poses some interesting moral dilemmas. It stimulates the target individual to have a dream about having sex with the operator. But that's all it is--a dream--to the target person. Since there can be no record of the encounter--except in the memory of the participants--there is nothing to say that the operator him- or herself was not dreaming as well. Indeed, Arfthorn Industries assures me that this COULD be the case--that the operator is just experiencing a very vivid dream. I tried the system myself, and it seemed to be totally real. I brought my wife in (since to do otherwise would violate my marriage vows) and we had quite a satisfying session. She vaguely recalled the dream, but it didn't seem to be impressed upon her mind. All this evidence points to a device that can be distilled down to its basic premise--a machine which connects two people, and synchronizes their dreams. Being that it is natural for people to have all manner of sex dreams, the occasional targeting of an individual seems harmless enough. The problem will come from an obsessive use of the device. For example, if the same individual is tapped every night, it could be considered a violation of privacy. But Arfthorn assures me that this is not possible--that at most, the system can be used only every three or four days, and that the same person cannot be tapped again for several months. This leaves only one moral dilemma, for which I see no remedy--the overtapping of sexy celebrities. I imagine that an actress like Fain Jonas will be tapped by multiple persons every single night. This would indeed be a violation, and if Arfthorn expects this to happen, it would be unethical to release the product. Otherwise, I see no ethical problems with it." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 16: BILLION'S DRIFTING CHAPTER 6 SR-150 ============================== SRbd006--"Jack Pollet" ============================== The speaker put the paper down, took off his glasses, and stared at the crowd for a few moments before continuing. "So just that one problem. And it IS a problem. For even though 97% of dreams are never remembered, the overtapping of an individual could indeed cause problems for him or her, and would not be fair. Arfthorn Industries was determined to release The Slumberotica System, but not without solving this problem. And let me tell you, it took us a while to develop the solution. But we did. Oh boy, we did. See, the person you tap will no longer be THE person, but a close alternate reality version of the person. So, in this reality, the person you're tapping WILL NOT EXPERIENCE THE DREAM. And with this, the product is perfected. Because of the near infinite levels of alternate realities, no individual version of a person will experience a Slumberotica Dream more than once or twice--but the twice is highly unlikely. Do remember, however, that THIS reality is an alternate one to other ones, where The Slumberotica System will also be available, we assume, so a few Slumberotica dreams are to be expected here and there, generated by individuals in close alternate realities. But such events will be so rare that the likelihood that anyone would even remember a Slumberotica dream is almost nil. So--any questions? I'd be glad to answer any of your concerns." That's when I raised my hand, and the speaker pointed to me. "Yes, you there with the long hair." "Um, I'm sorry, but what about at least the basic premise of monogamy? Your system there glorifies having sex with a new person every few nights--and I'm not saying that that's absolutely wrong--but what about at least some deference to the ideals of marriage and sex with a single partner?" I said. The speaker paused for a moment, and then answered. "I'm glad you asked that. You might think that Arfthorn Industries is a hedonistic place, void of any morality, but there you'd be wrong. We examined every fact of this issue, and Jack Pollet--in this report--a copy of which any of you may obtain--declared with high certitude that use of The Slumberotica System by married persons cannot be construed as adultery, since in the eyes of official-reality, the Slumberotica encounter never even happened. See? That's the beauty of the system." "One more question, of you don't mind," I said. "Not at all." "The idea that anyone might use my dream self for their own guilty pleasures greatly alarms me--whether it's this exact me, or nearby versions of me. From what you're saying, anyone, of either sex, and of whatever perverse inclination, may use me to their heart's content. I am familiar with just some of the sexual excesses of people, and I am hugely alarmed, even at HEARING about what some of the people out there do for sexual gratification. What if, say, and I mean no disrespect to you, or anyone else here, but what if some great, obese, ugly, smelly man comes up to me and tells me how he so enjoyed defecating upon and whipping my dream self the night before? Is this not a true violation of my inalienable rights as a human being?" The speaker smiled a nervous smile, and his eyes darted about. "Discretion is a very important human trait, and most possess it, sir. To be blunt with you, any person might use you--or anyone else--in their masturbatory fantasies. This, you must acknowledge, is not something you can, or even should, be able to prevent. If this person is impolite enough to inform you of his strange fantasies, that in an indictment upon HIS character. Think of The Slumberotica System as an EXTENSION of the phenomenon of the masturbatory fantasy. I realize that you can counter me by saying that with our system, real contact is made with a version of you, but I don't think the distinction is a strong enough one to warrant us to reconsider our plans to release the System. Now, who's next..." "Wait," I said. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 16: BILLION'S DRIFTING CHAPTER 7 SR-151 ============================== SRbd007--"Raunchy" ============================== "Yes sir?" the speaker said. "I have one more question, if you would be kind enough to indulge me. Pray, tell me whether or not you may converse with the individual you bring into your bed?" "Uh... yes, you can. It's... just like that person were dreaming. They can talk and reason and do anything they could normally do, yet they are locked into the dream situation." "So, one might extract personal information, perhaps of a sensitive nature, from said individual? You said yourself that 97% of dreams are not remembered. Wouldn't this be an excellent way to spy on people--including those in big business, government, the military, etc.? Bring a general into bed and get the launch codes to those nuclear warheads. Right? You see what I'm saying?" The speaker turned red with anger. "Sir, we are talking about sex here, not intrigue. I would hope that people would not be so improper as to commit immoral acts as you are suggesting. There are mundane forms of spying that are just as effective. If someone wants to know something about someone, they'll get the information, one way or another." "I'm sorry, you fool, but that is a foolish argument. Your Slumberotica System would be massively cheaper and more efficient than any other spying technique known to man." "YOU MUST DIE!" The speaker pulled a sawed-off shotgun out of his jacket and aimed it at me. I stood and turned to run, but I heard the weapon discharge. In the next instant I was drifting again. Me again. Bellicose Billion. Drifting through the everythingness. Huh. That time I had been myself, and not someone else. It was me in the auditorium, asking those questions. I wonder if this means anything. And then it was a very hot and very sunny summer day, and I was dressed accordingly. I was sitting on the hood of my friend's sports car as he fiddled with the seats. A pretty young woman wielded a garden hose, and she was threatening to spray me with it. There was the wonderful, pungent smell of life in the air. Raunchy rock music blared, distorted, from within the car of another of my friends. And we were all so young. "Hey Belly, I'm gonna soak ya," the girl said, spraying water on the hood of the car, right next to me. She used the method of holding your thumb over the opening in the hose, causing it to spray far distances. "Go right ahead my dear," I said. "It may prove refreshing." With these words of mine, she aimed the full flow of the water at me, and advanced, clearly seeking the maximum soak level for me. I just smiled and took it, and it did feel good. But my friend jumped up from the pavement, where he had been fiddling with the seat, and yelled at his sister. "Cut it out, dammit! You're getting the interior wet." The girl let go her thumb from the hose, stuck out her tongue and gave her brother a right nasty razz, along with a sour face. "Jesus Christ Bellicose, can you believe her?" the boy asked me. "She's a trip," I said. And then, out of the blue, I was standing on a mountain of snow, my body feeling very, very odd. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 16: BILLION'S DRIFTING CHAPTER 8 SR-152 ============================== SRbd008--"11-S" ============================== After the long and aggravating trip to Greatwall, Ferrajalt finally got Whale to a safe place. Getting away from Walker Fantive and his megalomaniacal rantings was a little tougher. But now, Ferrajalt was free. On the trip here, Ferrajalt managed to make up a convoluted lie about the tock hounds, the false Hilltop Jone Rallity, and the events after the ocean liner hit. He knew Walker didn't believe him, but he didn't care. No way was he gonna let this joker in on the secrets of Daptin's Land and stuff. Now Ferrajalt snuck to one of the middle levels of the Wall, where a bunch of Overwhelm apartments were located. There was an array of mail boxes with people's names on them, and the box numbers corresponded to the apartment numbers. And right there, on box 11-S, was the name "Daptin Gone". Nonchalantly, the Prince ambled down the hallway till he got to the door. He looked around and summoned some superstrength. He should be able to pop the lock and get the door open in a single swift motion, and only a single noise. May as well see if it's unlocked first, though... He turned the handle and found that indeed, the door was unlocked. So he opened it. It swung open and he saw Daptin Gone himself sitting there on his bed. Next to him in a chair was a strange woman. In her hands she held the Cup of Coffee. She had fangs, golden metal tubes and feathers for hair, and a right arm covered in fur. Her right hand had claws. Her nose was very small and flat. She had wide, cute eyes. She had an air of being young, rebellious, and irresistible. She wore a dress made of some sort of white chain mail. Her boots had a bird of prey motif. On the dress, centered over her chest, was the image of a naked person with long blue hair--seemingly a woman, but sex unclear--backside facing the viewer, arms outstretched, as if embracing the unknown. Daptin and the woman stared up at Ferrajalt. "Uh..." Ferrajalt said. "You!" Daptin said, standing. Ferrajalt backed up a step. "No, no--take it easy!" Daptin said. Ferrajalt sighed. "I didn't think you'd be here." "I'm surprised to see you here, too, my friend." Ferrajalt made a puzzled look, then glanced over at the woman. "How'd you get here?" Ferrajalt asked Daptin. "Come on in and I'll tell you the whole story," Daptin said. "By the way, I want you to meet Agatha Petunia Wack--former member of Pseudoairport. She's agreed to help me retake my Land." "Hello," Ferrajalt said hesitantly, entering the room and sitting in a big chair. "Hi," Agatha responded in a husky but attractive voice. "Hafta tellya, Ferrajalt--" Daptin said. "You killing Red Archer Booze was the smartest thing anyone ever did in my Land. My resurrection of her was the stupidest." "What do you mean?' "Sleap Drassy was planning on stealing my Land from me and booting me the hell out. Only thing is, the Sleapster fell under Booze's bottle, and I still got booted out. Now my Land is one big orgy. And when the orgy ends--the orgy which Sleap sees only as a delay--she'll begin to execute her final plan." "What's that?" "She's going to tear a hole in Gnoboslast--the place at the very edge of Creation--and finally see what's really out there." "Is that a bad thing?" Ferrajalt asked. "Yes," Agatha said, with a tone of finality. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 16: BILLION'S DRIFTING CHAPTER 9 SR-153 ============================== SRbd009--"Little Robots" ============================== Walking along the top of a snowbank in a parking lot... I'm so small and awkward... ambling along with difficulty... giant shopping center... shopping center... This drifting... is killing me... the frightening thought... the thought that there's no way out... that I'll be drifting forever... Back in that conference room... listening to that speaker... his putrid words... I didn't have the state of mind to get up and run away... to tell someone of my plight... I just didn't think of it. The wonderful suburban reprise... summer days, like cherished memories... why couldn't it have lasted longer... I would have liked it there. Then I heard a faint burst of beeps and clicks... a weird, bird-chirpy kind of noise... but I understood it... I understood it perfectly... "Is that you, Bellicose Billion?" I clumsily bobbled myself around and peered over the expanse of the enormous empty parking lot--and on a distant snowbank, I saw three little... I don't know what they were... they looked like little robots or something... their bodies were spheres, covered with colorful patterns, and they had tubular arms and legs--flexible, kind of like springs. They were waving at me. I attempted to answer, and my words came out as the same sort of clicking and beeping--"Who is it that is there?" I could hear the three little things conversing among themselves, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. A strong wind whipped up and I lost my balance, falling onto my side. Yeah, judging from the way I fell, I was a little spherical robot just the others. This drifting... I laughed to myself... if I ever get out of it, it would sure be a great thing to write down... what a book it would make. I struggled to right myself, kicking snow and ice down the side of the snowbank, panicking when it seemed I might fall down. But I managed to get standing again. This little mechanical body... it felt so weird... One of the others beeped and clicked again--"My name is Agatha Petunia Wack. I am here with Daptin Gone and Prince Ferrajalt." Then another one "spoke"--in a deeper "voice". "Bellicose--it's me--Daptin Gone. I heard your call for help." I responded. "If this is for real, you don't know how grateful I am." "I can imagine," Daptin replied. There was a silence as we regarded each other, and the wind whipped up again. This time, I lost my footing totally, and tumbled head over heels down the snowbank. The world around me was spinning so fast--NO!--don't let me perish, so close to the rescue. Once I reached bottom, I was upside-down in the snow, facing the others, who looked upside-down from my perspective. The one which must have been Prince Ferrajalt let out a series of noises which could only have been a laugh. "Don't worry, we'll do the same and come to you," Agatha said, and I saw the three tumble down their snowbank. I have to admit it WAS pretty funny. But I didn't laugh. Soon, I managed to right myself again and saw that the three were trekking the considerable distance between our respective snowbanks. I also began walking, to meet them all the sooner. Then I heard a noise like thunder to my right, and I saw an enormous car go by, in another lane. So huge! The shopping center must have been farther away then I originally imagined... judging from the scale of things, I must have been only four or five inches tall. As I approached the three, I could make out the patterns on their surfaces. One was white with green pine-branches on it--had to be Daptin. Another was black and white, with gold trim--the color scheme of the Warhomes--that had to be Ferrajalt--I remembered that he wore the police uniform from the Warhomes most of the time. The third, which had to be this "Agatha" person, was a beautiful shade of blue with yellow squiggly lines all over it. "How did you find me?" I asked, still a good distance away. "A collaboration between me and Agatha," Daptin said. "I heard your cry for help, and Agatha facilitated our transport here... to wherever here is... any ideas?" "No," I said. "I just got here myself. I've been... drifting... through a series of crazy realities." "Yeah, I'd say this is a crazy reality," said Ferrajalt. I laughed--or at least made the closest sound to a laugh I was capable of in my transformed state. "Yes," I said. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 16: BILLION'S DRIFTING CHAPTER 10 SR-154 ============================== SRbd010--"A Million Miles Out on Twicvion Lane" ============================== We met, and I got a better look at the robot bodies. They were rather simple--one circular, camera-lens-like opening--a raised band that went around the sphere from bottom to top--and the efficient arms and legs, ending in little stumps. "It's amazing that we found you," Daptin said. I could find nothing to say. "Now we have to attempt the return," said Agatha. "Attempt?" I wondered. "Yes Mr. Billion," she said. "getting here was hard enough, but getting back might be more difficult. The only way I can figure it is to go back to the Road." "Why am I not surprised by this?" Ferrajalt said sarcastically. Huh. Amazing how the sarcasm came through in the beeps and clicks. "Uh, Daptin--is there anything you want to do before I make the try? I can't guarantee anything," Agatha said. Ferrajalt made an exclamation, but it carried no specific meaning. "Yes," Daptin said. "Bellicose--in case we're separated, please tell me how you came into this situation. What is happening in my Land?" "Daptin--I jumped off your Bridge--Booze and Drassy--they instituted orgy--I endured for a day but no more. Drassy intends to pierce Gnoboslast as soon as she tires of the orgy." "Just as I expected," Daptin said. There was silence for a few moments. "Look, why don't we just get this over with?" Ferrajalt said. "If this is the end of the road for me--for us--" "Oh don't worry Prince," Agatha said, "you won't lose existence, it's just I don't know where any of us will end up." "That's reassuring," Ferrajalt said. The sarcasm again. "Well, if you're all agreed, I'll set it off now," Agatha said. We all agreed, and in the next instant, we were standing in the middle of a rocky wasteland--on a road that looked newly paved--and we were human again. There was an odd smell in the air, quite pleasing, like citrus or something. There they were--Daptin and Ferrajalt as I remembered them--and a very strange looking young woman--one arm was furry with a clawed and, and her face--big eyes, almost no nose--quite a fascinating female! "Looks like we made it," Ferrajalt said, looking around. I joined him in looking around, and saw a tower of some sort in the distance, very slim, but topped with projections that made it look a little like a second-stage dandelion--the one with those little airy parachutes all over it. As soon as Agatha set eyes on it, she swore. "Oh no," she said. "What is it?" I asked. "On no. No, no, no. I know where we are." "Well that's a good thing--isn't it?" "No, no, no. Oh no." "What is it?" Daptin asked testily. "That tower," she said, "is Lincinspire." "So you know where we are," said Ferrajalt. "Yes," she said. "I know where we are. We're on Twicvion Lane." "Is that bad?" Daptin asked. "Not that we're no Twicvion Lane, but..." "What?" Ferrajalt asked. "That tower... Lincinspire... it marks... it marks a million miles from the nearest civilization." "WHAT?" Ferrajalt exclaimed. "A million miles. It was erected by a Winter Stadium Them team, many centuries ago. They explored many of the offshoots of Rillekon's road--and once they reached a million miles--they left a marker post--each of them two or three miles tall..." "Can you transport us from here?" Daptin asked. "What?" she said, distracted, "No. From here? I have no leverage at all. There's nowhere to go." Daptin nodded, as in quickly thinking. "So... so what does this mean?" he asked. "I don't know!" she said. "It means that it's a million miles to the nearest people or supplies." "So we're fucked, basically," Ferrajalt said. "Hold on! Let me think!" she said. I frowned, wanting to say something, but unable to think of anything good. Finally rescued... delivered from limitless drifting to a dying-of-thirst-or-starvation predicament. "I can't believe it!" Ferrajalt said. "After all that's happened to me--Lunatether--the Tock Hounds--I can't believe I'm gonna die out here--a million miles from nowhere! You know that? We're a million miles from nowhere!" "Calm down, dammit!" Agatha said. "I am perceiving a way out of here..." She approached Ferrajalt, a clawed finger pointed toward him. He backed away a little. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna bite, Prince!" she said. "It's just... that... I see the solution to our problems... here." She pointed at one of the little metal buttons on Ferrajalt's cop shirt. "Huh?" the Prince asked. "These buttons," she said. "These buttons are our way home." "Buttons?" Ferrajalt said incredulously. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 16: BILLION'S DRIFTING CHAPTER 11 SR-155 ============================== SRbd011--"Buttons" ============================== "Wait a minute," Daptin said. "I think this might make some sort of sense. Take of your shirt, Prince. Let's see if we have something." Ferrajalt nodding his head in frustration. "Fine, fine," he said, as he unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, leaving him standing there in an undershirt. Agatha took the shirt and began examining it. With one of her claws she ripped one of the buttons off with some difficulty and began to scrutinize it. "Here, look," she said, moving close to Ferrajalt, the button held close to her face. "Look at this." Ferrajalt looked at the button, and a look of amazement came to his face. "No fucking way!" he said, smiling. "It's a matter handler! A fucking matter handler!" "What?" Daptin said, rushing over to examine the button. "It looks--there a little grill on the back--just like the matter handlers. It all makes sense! An emergency system, built into... even the clothing that the Warhomes have! Haha! With these buttons, we can build Warhomes!" Soon, Ferrajalt and Daptin discovered a tiny pin concealed in the side of the buttons, and with this pin, they could probe under the tiny grilled opening on the back of the buttons and press a tiny button there in the recess. As soon as they did this, the button jumped out of Daptin's hand and skittled off, as if it were on a shaky surface, leaving a scar in the ground behind it, as it ate up matter. "God damn!" Ferrajalt exclaimed. "It's gonna work!" "But then what?" I said. "We'll have food, water, and shelter, but we still have a million miles to travel!" "I don't know," Daptin said. "Think about it--two, three hundred miles per hour, top speed?" Ferrajalt nodded. "So--we can set it on autopilot--go day and night," Daptin said. "Say, 250 miles per hour. Okay? So that's--let's estimate 25 hours per day--that's--about 6000 miles per day. Say 5000. Okay. So how many days is that to make a million miles? Uh..." "About 200," Agatha said. "That's right!" Daptin said. "Which is about... uh..." "Six or seven months," Ferrajalt said, nodding. "That's not so bad!" "But will we make it in time to stop Sleap?" said Daptin. "There's no other way," Agatha said. "Maybe we can radio ahead?" I asked. "Warn someone?" "No," Agatha said. "No one can get to Daptin's Land except Daptin himself. And then, only when I get him to the right spot." "Oh," I said. "Well, do they have any faster transports that they might send, to intercept us?" "Not that much faster," she said. "Besides, the chance of getting a message to span across this wasteland is remote. I know that Winter Stadium had a hard time with telecommunication on their major explorations." "Oh well, just a thought," I said. Ferrajalt regarded the rest of the buttons, which were in his hand. There were seven in all. "So--what should we do--just make one, or like, one for each of us?" "Let's make four," Daptin said. "I for one need the privacy to mull over my plans to recover my Land. Not to be antisocial, but a single Warhome is rather close quarters." "No argument here," Ferrajalt said. "We can visit each other with the planes," Daptin said, and we all nodded. About six hours later, we set off, each of us in our own Warhome. It took a little while to get them all programmed to travel the road at top speed and follow each other at a set distance. But we got them going. Agatha was in the lead, me second, Ferrajalt third, and Daptin was the caboose of our otherworldly "train". "Well, it looks like we're on our way!" Ferrajalt said over the comm. "Yeah," Agatha said. "These things aren't too hard to drive. I shouldn't have been so intimidated." "Well," Daptin said, "just cuz you never heard of such a thing as a driver's license is no reason you can't be a good driver." We all laughed. "Well folks," Ferrajalt said, "looks like we're cruising at close to 310 M.P.H. And my calculations here... uh... it looks like we'll cover a million miles--barring any mishaps or obstructions, in something like 134 days. Maybe four-and-a-half months." "Not too bad," I said. "As long as the universe is still there when we hit civilization." "Yeah," Ferrajalt said, with a bittersweet chuckle. "Well people, we have a lot of time on our hands, and I suggest an excellent book from the library you might like to read--'The Aleche Degrasion'." And we sped on through the wasteland, one after another, as night fell around us. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 16: BILLION'S DRIFTING CHAPTER 12 SR-156 ============================== SRbd012--"Bathtub Again" ============================== Daptin Gone was in the bathtub in his Warhome, masturbating lazily, fantasizing about oral sex with Spanking New Sarah. God, he thought, how I wish she had zinclered onto me before I got banished from my own Land... this damn million-mile trek... it would have been perfect, just her and me, all the privacy in the world, the inner world of the Warhome... But no. The only female within... uh... 714,000 miles... was Agatha Petunia Wack... the bizarre girl he met on Rillekon's Road, the place he wound up after getting the boot from Sleap Drassy. Yeah... it wasn't that she was ugly, exactly, it was just that she had this aura... like you could just tell that sex was not something she'd even remotely consider... oh well... She said that their meeting was fortuitous--that her team, Pseudoairport, had just broken up, and she was looking for a new job. Hooking up with Daptin to save the universe seemed like a pretty good deal to her. With her considerable skills navigating the many ways of Rillekon's Road, she managed to get Daptin back to his apartment at the Greatwall Base of Overwhelm Associates... back to the Cup of Coffee... the real world strangely recovered from the reality crash... She had sent the vastly powerful artifact into a "sideplace", she said, before embarking on the mission to save Bellicose Billion, after Daptin got the psychic message from the former crewmember of the Urbandersnacheron IV. She didn't elaborate on the "sideplace" much... Daptin warned her, telling her about what happened with the Goodbye Popcorn in the Cupslipped World, but Agatha insisted it'd be alright... What else could he do but masturbate? Thinking vivid thoughts... the mind-blowing taste of her pussy... and her expert lips and tongue on his cock... unbelievable... Then his fantasy turned to the orgy going on at his Land... wondering how many of the people there were getting their share of Spanking New Sarah... all of them, he supposed... except Bellicose Billion, poor fellow, who only got the devil girl Insurance... Then he started getting angry and he came mad. It was HIS Land. His. Created by him, solely by him. But he was kicked out... party due to his own mistakes, but mostly because Sleap Drassy was more powerful than him by a long shot. To be a god... but to be a weakling compared to a woman... a weird woman... Sleap Drassy... a fucking waitress in a Hello Tarby... fuck... she gave Granticaine a note to give to him, but Granticaine kept it... what the fuck... More powerful... more powerful... what the fuck... when he was in that doctor's office as a kid... when he found out he was going to die of some random disease... Daptin realized that it was THEN that he felt most alive... the tingling excitement of still being alive... with the prospect of fighting for that life... And now... as a god... undeniably a god... with the prospect of thousands of years of youth... thousands of years of unbridled creative power... stupidity... lying back in a bathtub... his juices mingling with the water... the water created by the Warhome... created from hydrogen and oxygen... hydrogen and oxygen that might have entered the Warhome's compressed matter heap as rock, as vegetation, as earth... carbon or gold or praseodymium or whatever else... protons and neutrons and electrons ripped apart and remixed... the water... his fluids... barreling a million miles down a road in a world he couldn't even have imagined when he was human... Human... was he human? What was he? What was it that Fox had observed? That he had wondered? Whether Daptin was the Prime Creator... whether he was a pinecone... Lost... so lost... limited awareness... unanswered questions... non-omniscience... lost... and no longer human... no longer on a thin ledge between life and death... no longer worrying about the little things in life... the Warhome... catering to his every need... The Warhomes... what if one was to fall into the hands of a normal person on a normal world? With reality travellers... gods... superheroes... fantastic beings... the Warhomes were a convenience... Daptin and Agatha and Ferrajalt and Billion would probably have found another way out of their dilemma when they found themselves a million miles out on Twicvion Lane... but a normal person... a normal, fragile society... just imagine... Thinking of geometric progressions, Daptin could see that one Warhome could become ten, then a hundred, then a thousand, and on and on... until everyone would have one... no one would have to work anymore... And what would be left? Sex and romance. And exploration and freedom... but exploration and freedom might get tiresome after awhile... if it was so easy... but other people... men and women... at least the Warhome couldn't make THAT part of your life easy... -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 16: BILLION'S DRIFTING CHAPTER 13 SR-157 ============================== SRbd013--"Aloofness" ============================== Sarah... oh Sarah... Daptin rode on a wave of emotional pain... smiling and reveling in it... a vestige of humanity... pain... the sweet pain of the longing heart... if Sarah was here with him... that last glimmer of humanity would be ripped from him... and he'd have to trifle with matters of reclaiming the world he had created... of saving the universe from destruction at the hands of Sleap... He tried again to make contact with his Land... as he had so many times before... and he felt something... something vague... he couldn't be sure whether it was his imagination... aha!... there again, something human... doubt... He got out of the bathtub and started drying himself with a perfect fluffy towel, as perfect as all linens in the Warhome... he smiled as he wondered whether the Warhome could be programmed to make things imperfect once in awhile... then he frowned when he realized that it probably COULD be programmed that way... Warhomes are strange... they have a strong intelligence... but nothing like the full speaking entity in the Stormbolthouses... the Leitmotif, he had spoken to... and the progeny of the Leitmotif... as Ferrajalt had described to him... Lunatether... was a fully realized consciousness... so much so that it (she?) had destroyed itself to be reborn in a human body... Warhomes didn't talk, however. They showed graphics on a screen, and interacted with people in a somewhat childlike way, finding out what you want through a series of graphical options and things... He wondered if the more primitive minds of the Warhomes were also yearning to be human... but he just didn't know... They were like dogs... wonderful, loyal companions that can afford you companionship and help without the burden of speech... allowing a soothing aloofness... maybe the same way cats feel about their human companions... Daptin's Land... there was so much more he had to do... so many unfinished things... the Land was an infant... and it must be suffering now without his constant tending... home to a despicably inappropriate orgy... an orgy decreed by a woman he had resurrected from the dead... killed by Ferrajalt in a fit of anger... a death he had felt like a tons of bricks falling on him... the first death in his Land... And now... the one who he breathed life back into spat on him and committed the most horrible crimes against him... he should have known better... he should have known... Still naked, but a little dryer, Daptin walked out of the bathroom and into the Warhome's master bedroom, getting under the sheets of the oh so comfortable bed and curling up into a fetal-type position... hiding from reality and liking it. Sex... relationships... the game of it all... the wellspring of human brightness, the wellspring of ALL brightness... but for now, for these months of absurd travel, Daptin had to get by jerking off, thinking of Sarah... and a lot of other girls as well... doing a lot of things in his fantasies... a lot of things... Maybe the answer is... maybe it's all about... taking a good thing when it comes along, and cherishing it... all those relationships we pine after in later years... at the time of their happening, were wracked with doubts and insecurities, which may have diminished their intensity... but back again we are... to the fragile nature of humanity... where doubt and insecurity are in themselves invaluable treasure... to cherish, if one has the wisdom... but of course, such wisdom would diminish the humanity of the whole thing anyway... so it wouldn't work... we can't appreciate being human too much... or we stop BEING human... Bad train of thought... not leading anywhere... Sleap could pop reality's cherry anytime... any second... with unknown results... but almost certainly it would be a cataclysm... Somehow, Daptin knew about That Which Lies outside... at some level... in some primordial way... and the feeling he got was urgent... DO NOT LOOK OUT THERE... WE CAN NEVER SEE THAT WHICH LIES OUTSIDE... WHY DO YOU THINK WE SEALED OURSELVES UP IN HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE? Daptin curled up in his blanket, as trillions of souls curled up in their universe... good parallel... but all about hiding... all about avoiding what one should be confronting... but hiding can be for fear, or for self-preservation... and Daptin didn't know which one was happening on a universal scale... Then Daptin touched his neck and got a feeling... that everything would be okay... -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 16: BILLION'S DRIFTING CHAPTER 14 SR-158 ============================== SRbd014--"Fleeting" ============================== "Daptin is masturbating," said Agatha Petunia Wack. "Why are you so concerned about it?" Prince Ferrajalt said. "I'm merely observing. I'm aware of it when any of you three are doing it. Yes Prince, you too. You too, pumping your erection for that fleeting pleasure." Ferrajalt frowned. "You're judging us, about that?" She smiled. "Yes. Definitely, at some level." "You've never done it?" "I have. Maybe once or twice a year, when I get that particular whim. But when I do it, I make it special. You guys... you do it every day... several times a day... and I have to wonder about it..." "Well, we're certainly not gonna have sex with you, and it's a matter of biology that the stuff accumulates inside us and messes up our thinking and all that. It seems to me a great relief that we can just 'pump' ourselves, as you say, and keep the whole thing to a minimum." "I suppose you might have a point... but look at you all! You're all three of you vastly powerful and godlike... shouldn't you be above some base matters?" "I'm no god." "You're a prince." "Yeah, that's right." There was a long pause as the two sat in the control room of Ferrajalt's Warhome, watching the near-featureless landscape of Twicvion Lane zoom by. "So you've never had sex?" Ferrajalt finally asked. "At all?" "I have never been inspired at all by a man. If one came along who was at my level, I'm sure I would do it. It's just, all the men I have ever met have been ridiculous, compared to me." Ferrajalt snorted. "Not too conceited, are we?" "Is it conceit to state truth?" "No, but it makes people around you nervous." "I know that all three of you would like me in their bed... poor Belly Billion more than you or Daptin... but it would be a very unfunny comedy, and something I want no part of." "Fine by me." Agatha narrowed her eyes. "You are thinking that I am missing out by not letting you insert your penis into me, being that you're royalty and good-looking. Let me make it perfectly clear that I am not missing out at all, not even a little bit, by not letting you put your penis into me." "You're a weird girl," Ferrajalt said, smiling, and expecting to get a smile out of Agatha too, which didn't happen. "I am someone who makes sense. If that is weird to you, then you are living a rather pathetic life, wouldn't you say?" "No." All this talk about sex and Agatha was making Ferrajalt actually desire her to a respectable degree. He knew she would sense this, and made no attempt to hide it. She narrowed her eyes again. "You men are such losers. Look at you, desire raging in you, attracted to me when I criticize you. You feel belittled, and you want to get back at me by dominating me sexually. You are so very predictable, Prince Ferrajalt." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 16: BILLION'S DRIFTING CHAPTER 15 SR-159 ============================== SRbd015--"Agatha Smiled" ============================== Ferrajalt laughed. "If you think it means much either way to me, it's you who are pathetic. You know, you're gonna freak out by me saying this, but you REALLY need to get laid, girl. You really need to just relax and stop thinking so much and just have some fun." "Another pathetic attempt to seduce me... to appeal to the pent-up frustrations in a woman... hoping to let her defeat herself so you don't have to work as hard to conquer her..." she said, and after a pause, continued, "I find it quite fascinating in a detached, scientific way, to see how you seek to find some sort of flirting, some kind of sexual chemistry between us." "I'm a guy.", Ferrajalt said, shrugging. "That you are." He laughed and pointed at her. "There! You see? Humor! You ARE capable of humor! I can't believe it!" "You have a very low opinion of me, because you cannot accept how fully realized I am. You seek to understand me in terms you are able to be comfortable with. You are playing games with yourself... much in the same way you play with your penis whenever the animal urge strikes you..." "So?" Agatha became angry. "Your great weapon is flippancy, isn't it, Prince? When faced with a challenge to your sad little personal universe..." Ferrajalt laughed heartily and sincerely. Agatha scowled. "Ho, Agatha--I think I understand you now--'sad little personal universe'--come on... you know that doesn't apply to me..." Ferrajalt said, and then, after a pause... "... it applies to YOU." Agatha continued scowling at Ferrajalt, her big eyes now burning and seething with rage barely under control. Ferrajalt continued. "If you were so 'advanced' or 'fully realized' you wouldn't be getting so upset at this... come on, stop with this deluded personal shield... admit that you're as fallible and emotional as the rest of us..." "And fuck you?" she blurted out, her voice wavering. Right after she said it, she looked confused and ashamed at having lost control. Ferrajalt smiled and nodded. "You're the one constantly steering the conversation back to sex, Agatha." Agatha swiveled her chair to face away from Ferrajalt. After a few moments, she spoke. "Prince, you have succeeded in bringing forth in me a weakness, one which I thought long conquered. An aspect of me deep inside was attracted to you... and I was lax in personal housekeeping... it grew unchecked... and now I have the humiliating displeasure of having an audience when it flared up. I have defeated the thing within me, and I can only make a sincere plea that you not relate this incident to anyone else." They were both silent for a time, the hum and rumble of Twicvion Lane the only sound. Finally, Ferrajalt spoke. "So you have repressed the urge?" "Yes." "Do you suppose that's the right thing to do?" "It is. Were I to succumb, I would lose most of my powers." "WHAT?" Ferrajalt said too loudly and too excitedly. Agatha slowly swiveled around and regarded him, her face a miserable post-tantrum glower. "I mean... you... you're a virgin? And... and your power depends on it?" "Yes," Agatha said without emphasis, sounding very tired. "I'm sorry," Ferrajalt said, looking away. "I wish this did not have to happen. I am..." "Ashamed?" Ferrajalt said, turning back to her, and bringing his right foot up onto the chair, hugging his leg. She stared at him with a tired apathy. "Do not think that this episode has brought us any closer." Ferrajalt raised an eyebrow. "But... but it has... hasn't it Agatha?" "You might think," she said brightly with a cute smile that shocked Ferrajalt. "You're a weird girl." And Agatha smiled again. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 16: BILLION'S DRIFTING CUPLINE'S END ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER 35 Chapters--SR-160 thru SR-194 ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 1 SR-160 ============================== SRfi001--"The Ones Who Started The Party" ============================== I had a dream that I was at a party, and right at the beginning, there were these really important people--the ones who set the party up and everything, but they left right after the party started. For a little while we all wondered why they left, what we should do, when they'd be back, and all that. But soon several folks emerged as natural leaders, taking the place of the original ones. And we were all having such a good time, that we forgot all about the first ones. As time went on, the new leaders made elaborate plans for how the party would progress, ie, what games we would play, what music we'd listen to, etc. The party had been going for a real long time, and it seemed so well planned-out that we all felt we knew what was coming up--but then I heard a rumor that one of the original ones was back at the party. Then things began to go awry. Then more original ones had apparently returned. And it seemed that all our plans, so carefully laid out, were being tossed aside by the slightest whims of the original ones--they were the ones who started the party, and even after such a long absence, they still had utter control over it. And their return signaled something wild. I remembered that I was getting bored by the party, but when the original ones returned, the whole thing took a sharp turn and began to get incredible. I don't really remember what happened after that--but I think the replacement leaders got mad--and various factions began forming, and a fight was brewing. I think that's when I woke up--when they were asking me to choose sides and stuff. Weird dream. As I remembered it, I was slumped over on a little table. Stirring, I blinked my eyes and looked around--I was in the banquet hall in Stormbolthouse Leitmotif. And--and everyone else was unconscious--a few of them snoring. Other than that, it was totally silent. Across from me, I saw Baw Veppen also slumped over, who I'd been talking to before. Before what? I remembered sitting in the corner, talking Baw, and feeling generally unsure of what was going on. Zoipin Jurple Jupter came over and started talking to us, then he left, saying he was gonna try and gather some more information. I know Daptin left, but no one said anything about it. Then it was just me and Baw talking, and--and I don't know. I remembered talking about the varying levels of technology in Aconck, and about how space travel was a hoax, and stuff. But then--it must have hit us all suddenly, whatever made us all lose consciousness. So now I was the only one awake. I wondered what I should do--my mind was racing. I had a feeling something bad had happened. I started to stand up, but stopped midway as a wave of dizziness hit me. I used the table as support as I tried to stand. It was weird--it felt like something about the environment rather than an internal confusion. I was able to stand, but my inner ear was utterly confused as to what was up and what was down. I felt a little anti-motion-sickness superstrength kick in. Good thing. I took a few steps and then stopped, discouraged. So I tried another on my Overwhelm hung intrinsics. "80-C Clarity," I said. Things got a little better. The dizziness was still happening, but I was better able to separate the visual and inner ear data my brain was crunching. I took a few more tentative steps toward the central table, and then I saw some motion on a couch across the room. It was a hand, reaching up to the back of the couch, which was facing away from me. I froze for a second, assessing the possible danger. Habit, I guess, from the traditional royal combat training of my youth. But momentarily the person sat up, and I saw it was one of the crewmembers of the Urbandersnacheron--Hilltop Jone Rallity. Huh. In an instant, I recalled her from the time when we intercepted the galleon. She had been in a real bad mood then. I spoke to her once or twice at Bay House, as well. She was one of the Primates I had only read about in the company newsletter. Sweet, innocent face. Tall--very tall--maybe a little taller than me, even. Well-built, wearing a brown and tan frock/dress/whatever sort of thing, with leather boots and a wide-brimmed tan hat. Her hair was somewhere between blond and red, and it flowed down over her shoulders in delightful curls. And in her mouth was a stalk of grass--the kind you chew on in youth. To complete the picture, a nice-lookin' rifle was slung across her back. Yeah, Fife might say he didn't--but he definitely designed his algorithm to choose only the most attractive women. And what's wrong with that? -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 2 SR-161 ============================== SRfi002--"Hilltop Jone Rallity" ============================== Hilltop Jone Rallity gently rubbed her eyes and looked around the room, quickly finding me. "Whatever happened?" she said, looking at me. "Um, I don't know," I said, approaching her. She started getting up, but she sat back down, shaking her head. "Try 80-C," I said. She nodded her head. "80-C Clarity. Huh. That's a little better." I got to the couch and sat down next to her, glad to get off my feet. She looked at me with those wide blue eyes. "It never ends, does it?" I said. "Nuh-uh. Things just go from bad to worse these days." "Yeah. So okay--what do you remember?" "Uh, just listenin' to that Bith and that Kesh guy argue." I looked around. Bith was lying face down on the floor, looking awfully stiff. Near him was a pile of green cloth. It made sense, I guessed--Kesh was really only a little tile, and he animated his clothes and stuff into a humanoid form. So he lost consciousness too. Interesting... "Yeah?" I said. "Yeah. And then... I don't rightly know. Then nothin'. That was it." "Yeah, me too. So something must have happened to knock us all out." She nodded, looking awfully confused. I bit my lip and looked around in thought. "Okay," I said. "We have to wake everyone up. Then we'll have to find our way to that hangar bay with all the Wavers and get out of here." "Okay," she said, starting to get up. "Yeah--so try to wake someone up." She got up and carefully walked through the dizziness over to where Ow Muchy Moyar was resting peaceful in a comfy chair. I knelt down and began shaking the large form of Bellicose Billion. "C'mon big guy. Wake up," I said. He grunted a little and turned over, but was no nearer consciousness. "Okay girl, rise and shine!" Hilltop said, but she was likewise getting nowhere. I let go of Billion and looked up at the girl. "Why do I have a feeling all the rest are gonna be equally uncooperative." "Uh-huh. I have that same feeling." I made a grimace and stood up. "Okay everyone!" I yelled. "Wake up! You have to wake up NOW!" A few people stirred a little, and a snorer briefly stopped, but otherwise it was no good. Hilltop threw up her hands and said with a smile of gentle resignation "Guess it's just you and me!" "Yup." I looked around some more, thinking, but I knew what had to be done. "Let's get to that hangar," I said. "Okay," Hilltop perkily responded, and she followed me as I headed for the big entranceway we had all entered by. We found the hangar quickly--it wasn't far from the banquet hall. "It's not so bad in here," Hilltop said. "No, you know what? It's not." And indeed, the feeling of disorientation was a lot less pronounced in the hangar bay. "So whatta we do--get inta wonna these skeeter thingies?" "I think so," I said. "Just hope we can figure out how to get it open." She nodded, and we approached the nearest Waver. I started looking it over, feeling along the rim of the cockpit window, when the thing suddenly began to open. "Guess it's automatic," I said. "You'd think," she said. "So, uh--Hilltop is it?" I asked, and she nodded. "Uh, I guess you know this may be dangerous and all, right? I mean, I know it's obvious and all, but I just..." "No--I know it. We have no idea what's out there. So no, uh--Ferrajalt?" she said, and I nodded. "So no Ferrajalt--I know the risk. Everything in Overwhelm is a risk. We just have to take that one step over the line if we even hope to accomplish anything." "Yeah. So let's get in, and I don't even know what's gonna happen." She took a deep breath and followed me into the Waver. Shades of my first Warhome biplane flight with Treyess. (Wish I could forget all about her.) But the Waver had two totally separate seats, so no--Hilltop's ass was not right between my legs. Kinda wished it was but... no. I had to stop thinking with my dick! It was getting kind of outta hand. Hilltop Jone Rallity. QUEEN Hilltop Jone Rallity... Ah, forget it. There were more pressing matters at hand right now. Soon after we settled in--me in the front and Hilltop behind me--the hatch closed and the systems in the Waver came to life--fans, whirrs, buzzes, all that. Then we began to rise, and my stomach was full of adrenaline. "Here we go!" I said out of nervousness. "Yee-ha! Bring it on!" Hilltop said. Her bravado eased my fear a little. Just a little. An iris door turned open and the Waver headed for it. There was the gray of a storm beyond it, but that didn't tell us much. We flew through the artificial storm, and then broke out of it. We were over a sea, and a normal sun was shining high in a sky dotted with white clouds. I breathed a sigh of relief. And the dizziness was totally gone. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 3 SR-162 ============================== SRfi003--"Loop" ============================== Looking around, several things came to mind. First, this wasn't Daptin's Land, and second, the Greatcoat was back in Daptin's Land. Damn. I would have liked to have had it right about then. I heard a beep from in front of me and looked down. The controls were similar to Warhome controls--and from the vector display, I saw that the Waver was requesting that I take over on manual. I hit a flashing white button and took the control wheel. "It's all right?" Hilltop asked me. "Uh, yeah. I have control of it. Now let's turn around and see if the Leitmotif is okay." So I turned, and the enormous Stormbolthouse swung into view. It looked fine, as much of it as we could see through the stormcloud. "Looks okay," I said. "But maybe we should circle it. Maybe we'll see something." "Okay." So we made a wide circle around the gigantic vehicle, but we didn't see anything noteworthy. "Okay," I said. "Let me see if I can get this thing to show me a map--maybe there's land nearby. One thing's for sure, though--with a sky like that, you know we're not in Daptin's Land anymore." "Well that's good, isn't it?" she said. "Huh?" "It's good--if we're not there, it must mean something else exists. Some PLACE else." "That's true," I said, fiddling with the controls, which finally gave me a map. "And looky here! A landmass nearby! Whattaya know!" "Well let's go!" Hilltop said. "Gotcha," I responded, and headed the Waver for land. Soon we were hugging the coastline, but something was wrong. While it was nearly featureless, the coast did have a few rocks and shrubs here and there. But what it was, the same pattern of rocks and vegetation kept showing up, repeating every half mile or so. It was as if we were scrolling over the same terrain over and over again. Inland was the same--a flat, dry wasteland with scattered shrubs and rocks. Then as I was watching the map on the vector display, I became aware that the same sequence of shore curvature was repeating. That's when I got a brief flash of panic--at the thought of being caught in an endless loop in such a place. Hilltop was leaning over her console looking down at mine, and then back at the shoreline. "You see what's happening?" I asked. "Yes sir, I do." "Doesn't look good, does it?" "No sir." "Yeah," I said, fiddling with some controls, trying to get some more speed out of the thing. I got it going a lot faster, but then a bell went off, and what looked like a live video picture of the Leitmotif appeared on the screen in front of me. "What the--" I said as I watched the video. The Leitmotif slowly turned, and then started forward, moving away from the camera. "They're leaving!?" Hilltop said, agitated. "Without us!?" "Let's not jump to--" I began, but then, as the Leitmotif got a little farther away, it began shifting colors to a dull orange, and then just began to fade away. It disappeared in rotating sections, getting fainter and fainter till all that was left was a bright, shining point of light. Soon, it too faded. "What was that?" Hilltop asked. "How'd it get that picture?" "I don't know," I said, checking the map--zooming it out for any sign of a flashing dot that would represent the Leitmotif. No luck. "I get a feeling this isn't good," Hilltop said. "Yeah honey, I get that feeling too," I said, kind of regretting using the word 'honey', kind of not. "Poppy told me I was headed for a horrible fate hooking up with you guys," Hilltop said. "Looks like he was right. TOO right." I turned around and faced the girl. "Look--I know things seem bad, but I have a feeling--I don't know--I just have a feeling that things are gonna turn out alright. I don't know--it just feels good to be away from all the others, away from Daptin, away from Injure. I mean--I felt cooped up in Daptin's Land--like we were all prisoners there. Now, for better or for worse, we're on our own. And--I don't know--at some level I think I'd prefer meeting doom on my own terms rather than living under someone else's thumb." Hilltop made a little smile, nodded, and laughed a little. "Well you have a point there boy," she said. "But how much of it is pure and how much of it is your royal high-and-mightiness?" I turned away. She had a point. This was something I often contemplated--whether my need for freedom and independence, power and control, was from my inherent nature, or from my royal upbringing. "Who knows," I said. "But we haven't, in any way, established that we're stuck in some sort of loop yet. We just know that we're stuck now, for the time being. But we'll figure something out." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 4 SR-163 ============================== SRfi004--"Again Cylinder" ============================== "What do ya figger happened anyway?" Hilltop said as I continued playing with the map. "That Leitmotif thingy was above the Bay when we all got onto it. So what happened? They cross Daptin's Bridge with all of us still on board?" "Yeah, it's funny--I was talking to Zoipin right before it happened--y'know--before we all fell asleep. He was saying how they were planning on doing it tomorrow and stuff--and I asked him if they were just gonna bring us all through--as a joke, y'know? But I mean--it looks like that's what they did. Bastards! Did you see Injure or Ann among the sleeping?" "No sir." "Yeah. I'm beginning to get the picture. And that goddamn Daptin split the scene right before it all happened." "Maybe our friend wasn't satisfied with the populace, and decided to start again from scratch?" "That's a wonderful thought. But I mean--you have to wonder. Did he make a pact with Injure and Ann to get rid of us all? To dump us in some rotten place like this?" "You'd kinda hope not." I looked back at Hilltop and saw she had another of those grass stalks in her mouth. "Where do you get those things?" I asked. "From home. I have a few in a little again cylinder." "A WHAT?" "An again cylinder. Spanking New Sarah gave it to me. I told her I was upset 'cause of how I only had a few stalks left from home. So she gave me this little feller..." She reached down and produced a little blue cylinder with a white cap. "...see now Ferrajalt--she had a BIGGER cylinder which all it did was make copies of these little ones. It had a little tab on the top--so I put the stalks in and broke the tab off--now, whenever I shut the cap, it'll recreate whatever was in there when it--y'know--when the tab was broken off. So--let me show you." She opened the cap, and dumped about half a dozen grass stalks on her console. "See?" she continued. "Empty. Now let me put the cap back on here, and..." She shut the cap, then opened it again, and darn if there wasn't another handful of stalks in there, exactly the same as the others. "Here," she said, handing me two of the stalks, "these are two that are the same." I took the two stalks and compared them--indeed, they were identical, down to the smallest detail. "Fascinating," I said. "But now--didn't you guys have some sort of object copier on the Urbander when you went through all that shit to get here, or rather, to Daptin's?" "Well yeah--but it was like--one of our machines malfunctioned in the state of reality that existed, and BECAME that way. A little time warp to be specific. You could just keep reaching back in time and grabbing the same thing over and over again. Maybe the cylinder uses the same principal." "Yeah," I said, starting to giver her back the stalks, then taking one and motioning it toward my mouth. "You mind?" "'Course not, silly. Got an infinite supply of 'em, after all!" "Thanks." I stuck the stalk in my mouth and began chewing at it nervously--we were going awful goddamn fast, and the terrain was still in a loop. I frowned and started to think. Zoipin had told me and Baw that someone spotted another Land from Daptin's Bridge. Like a little island in space, in the darkness. And I got to thinking--if this were indeed that place--that little island, then it was reacting to our motion by presenting a seamless repetition of the same land. But--what if we weren't moving? Might it have some features which couldn't be so seamlessly welded together in repetition? So I began to slow down. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 5 SR-164 ============================== SRfi005--"Eyesight" ============================== "Whatcha doin'?" Hilltop asked. "I was just thinking--our problem isn't that we're going too slow to get anywhere--it's that we're going too fast!" "Huh?" she said skeptically. "I don't know. Just let me try it out," I said, as I slowed the Waver down and descended toward the shore. Soon we were skimming the beach, and slowing to the point where we were hardly moving at all. Nothing changed, though. "Okay. Guess we may as well land," I said. "Uh-huh." So I did that, I landed, and we sat there for a few seconds, looking around. "Look any different to ya, Hilltop?" "Not really--uh--no wait Ferrajalt, what's that in the distance?" she said, pointing. I looked, and faintly saw something--some sort of structure of something, far up the beach, something going out into the sea. Damn good eyesight on that girl. "So we would have gotten to it if we kept going a little further?" she said with a little snicker. "I don't think so," I said. "I think the only reason we're with it is because I stopped." "Okay..." "Look Hilltop--just trust me on this." "Fine by me. So whatta we do now--walk?" "Uh--no. I think that if we go slow enough, and you keep your eyes peeled on that thing, we should be able to get there in the Waver." I eased forward on the throttle, and we began to move slowly forward--I tried to match the speed of walking, or maybe a little faster than that. The thing in the distance stayed in existence. So I sped up a little, and it was still there--I began to wonder if Hilltop might have been right--that I stopped just short of it--whatever IT might be. "Boy, let me tell you. I don't know what we're gonna find up there," Hilltop said softly. "But I'm with you--I'd rather go it alone than be with the onerous 45. Or rather, 43, minus you'n'me." "You know it," I said, speeding up ever so slightly. We were starting to get into range where we could just make out the thing ahead of us. It was definitely a pier of some sort, big, with a bunch of buildings on it. There wasn't anything inland from it, as far as I could see, though. Just the pier. Hmm. "So Hilltop," I said, seeking to change the subject to ease my apprehension. "I read in the newsletter that you were recruited only about six months ago." "That's right. Not even a yearling yet." "So what did you think of Overwhelm--before all this reality collapse crap happened, that is." "Oh, I liked it. A whole bunch. I didn't take too kindly to people who let power go to their head--namely Captain Quids--but I can handle it. Folks pull that junk with me, it's just, 'fine, whatever you want, any way you want it'--lull'em into a false sense of security, y'know? Then--and it always happens--you get'em by the--excuse the term--by the balls, and then you can freak on 'em but good and they can't do nuthin' to ya. I love that." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 6 SR-165 ============================== SRfi006--"Foreman Ittener Pier" ============================== "So it's true about Ky Ly--the way she is and all?" "Ho, yeah!" Hilltop said. "You don't know the half of it. She's a little monster, she is. Tortured a guy to death for peeking on her taking a bath. Nasty kinda torture too," Hilltop said, shivering. "Yeah, she seems so bright and perky all the time--but that dark interior shows through a little, I hafta say." "You got that right." "So how'd you deal with her?" "Oh, all the Primates and her had a sort of agreement. Basically, she leaves us alone and we don't kick her ass. Oh, and also we don't interfere between her and her crew. Not that there was a crew for long after the torture/death incident--they all split." "Huh." "Yup. A real mess on that pirate ship. I know I ain't goin' back, no siree." "I don't blame you. Sucks, doesn't it, that all this happened. I liked being a Primate." "Me too, me too." "Hmm," I said, looking at the pier, just about able to make out some signs now. "Looks like we really got something here." "The cutting edge." "I hear ya." Yeah, I could see it now. Definitely an amusement pier--similar to Hay-Hengren. But I couldn't see--at least it didn't seem like the pier was connected directly to the shore. It looked like it should have been connected to a boardwalk, but it was just there by itself. "So Ferrajalt--you ready for trouble?" "Always." "Bring 'em on!" I could tell Hilltop was real nervous. So was I. I mean, there was no experience to base this on--we were somewhere well beyond the outer fringes of our usual sphere of activity. Going to a pier--a fucked-up, who-knows-what pier. "Alright," I said, "I guess we're gonna hafta land up on the pier." "Yeah?" "Yeah. So let me ease 'er up..." I increased the speed and altitude of the Waver, and soon we were on our final approach to the pier. That was when we saw that there were people there. "Life!" Hilltop said. "I see 'em," I said as I slowed for the landing, and then gently put the Waver down at the end of the pier, facing an entrance arch/fence with these words across it... FOREMAN ITTENER PIER "Who's Foreman Ittener?" Hilltop said. "The guy this pier's named after." "Hey! How do ya know it's a guy? It could be a female foreman after all." "Wouldn't that be 'forewoman' or 'foreperson'?" "Ah, don't get technical with me. When I'm right, I'm right, and I don't wanna hear any differnt." "Gotcha." I pushed up on the canopy above us--I didn't really know the control to open it--but it responded and swung open. "Okay," I said, "first thing we gotta do is see if there's a Stormbolthouse-model matter handler on this stupid thing. I have a feeling it might be our only ticket out of here--using it to weave another Stormbolthouse." "You really think? That thing is awful big." "Yeah--but think about it--all the matter it takes up would be a small chunk out of, like, a mountain." "Guess you're right." "Yeah--so check behind you--maybe there's a panel behind your seat? That's where they are on the Warhome biplanes." "Lemme see," Hilltop said, folding her seat forward. "Definitely something back here--aha!" She pulled out a matter handler, very similar in design to the Warhome ones. "Here," she said, handing the device to me. "Thanks," I said, finding a little handle, and holding the matter handler like a briefcase, which it could almost pass for. "Okay," I said. "There's no guarantee we'll ever see this Waver again, so if you have anything in it..." "Nope. Nuthin'." "Good," I said, turning toward the gate. "In that case, let's go meet our new friends." "Lead on." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 7 SR-166 ============================== SRfi007--"No Energy" ============================== Foreman Ittener Pier was pretty depressing. Most of the amusement stands, restaurants, and arcades were closed. And the few that were open didn't have many customers. But there were people milling about. They didn't take much notice of us, even though we were dressed a lot differently than them. Hilltop in her dress and me in my Warhome police duds (a few others had also adopted the police uniform thing before, in Daptin's Land--even though some others complained that the last thing they wanted to see in that new world was police...) Yeah, the people here were dressed kind of drab. Men in brown business-type suit, women in nondescript brown dresses--that sort of thing. "So whattaya think, Ferrajalt?" Hilltop said. "I don't know," I said softly, as a big guy walked past us. "The question is--how did these people get onto the pier and how're they gonna get off?" "Good one." "What--good question?" "Yeah. That's what I meant." "Uh-huh. So look--there's nothing beyond the pier, so um--something's up. Something we don't know." "So why don't we just ask one of 'em?" "We can't just--" "--why not?" Hilltop said as she began to stride toward a stand with one of those big wheels you wager on to win crummy toys. "Hey..." I began, but figured she was right, and followed. Man, what a depressing place. Just such a dead feeling. No wind, muted sound, dead. No energy. "Scuse me, Ma'am," Hilltop said to a bored-looking woman behind the counter. "Wondrin' if'n I might ask you a question." "What is this--a quiz show?" the woman said in a detached manner, smoking a blue cigarette with blue smoke. "Um, no Ma'am. We were just wondrin' uh, you know how there's nothin' else around here except for the pier? What I mean is, no roads, no buildings, no boats, nothing. How did you all manage to get here?" The woman narrowed her eyes, looking from Hilltop to me and then back again. "What kind of question is that?" "Just look down that way, Ma'am," Hilltop said, pointing. "Y'can see there isn't nothing down there." The woman looked at us suspiciously again, and then craned to neck to look where Hilltop was pointing. "Yeah," the woman said, returning to her former position and taking a drag on the cigarette. "What's your point? And how did YOU two get here?" I moved forward. "Look," I said, "we're, uh, we're not from around here. We just walked down the beach, and climbed up onto the pier. We just, uh, thought it was, y'know, kind of strange there were no roads or anything, uh..." "You got a point?" the woman said. "Well, uh," I said, "just that, uh--just curiosity. Like you, uh, for example. How did you get here this morning?" "Drove," the woman said. Then she looked down and shook her head, confused. "I mean, I guess I did." Then she looked up at us and said "What time is it anyway?" I looked at my wrist, but there was no watch there. "I... don't know," I said slowly, a creepy feeling growing inside me. "Me neither," Hilltop said, backing up toward me. The woman looked at us, and then looked down again, shaking her head as if contemplating how stupid or unfortunate something was. "Thanks lady," Hilltop said, turning to face me. When her face was hidden from the woman, she silently mouthed something like "Let's get going.", and we did. "Weird, huh?" I said as we made out way toward the end of the pier, which seemed like the place to head. "You got that. She was totally lost." "Yeah." There was some activity over to our right, and we looked to see a family rejoicing and handing a big stuffed walrus to a little kid. But then, a second later, they vanished. We kept walking for a second. "You see that?" Hilltop asked. "Yeah." "Good." After a pause, she said "What was that?" "Looked like some people who happened to disappear." "Oh. Okay." We continued walking, then she spoke again. "Why do you suppose they went and did that?" "I don't know," I said. "This obviously isn't the most stable of places. Maybe it's just a fragment of reality--right?--like a little shard kept suspended somehow..." "Could be," she said. "But that's not too good for us, is it?" "Nope." "So you wanna talk to a few more people?" "Sure." And we did, with just as little success. Everyone was totally stoned, never giving a straight answer, confused but maddeningly calm. As we gave up on trying to glean any information from the locals we saw the end of the pier--where a kind of castle stood. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 8 SR-167 ============================== SRfi008--"Solve Gum" ============================== "A haunted house?" I said. "Who knows, in a place like this," Hilltop responded. "May as well check it out," I said, and we walked up to it. The front door was open, so we just walked right in. Down the main hall, we looked into a sitting room and saw three old women. "Oh, hello!" one of them, in a purple T-shirt, said. "Come right on in." "Um--okay," I said, and we entered the room. "You two look tired," another old woman said, this one in a hat. "Maybe you should stay with us for a few days." "That might be good," I said. "But be careful--" the third woman, in thick glasses, said. "--there are ghosts here." "What do you mean?" Hilltop asked. "Ghosts--" the woman in glasses said. "--lots of them..." "Okay--" I said, sitting on a sofa. "--but look--we have some questions for you. Maybe you could help us?" The woman in the purple shirt turned to the others and smiled. "We can help you, but first, why don't I show you up to your room, so you can rest. You look awfully tired, and we do our best to take care of our boarders." I started to say something as I looked over at Hilltop, but she looked so amenable to the proposal that I kept my mouth shut and followed the woman up a creaking, scary spiral staircase. She led us to a nice little room with a window looking out over the ocean. Sunlight streaming in, it was a quite appealing place. "You just relax and then come down later. We'll talk then." "Okay," I called after the woman as she descended down the stairs. Hilltop walked over to the window and looked out. What a vision of beauty she was in that light... "So," I said, walking up beside her, "got any ideas?" "Nope," she said, turning her head quickly, staring at me with those beautiful eyes. "Yeah, well--I'm not too enthusiastic about any of this so far. I mean, we could be in serious trouble here," I said, turning away from her and looking out over the sea. "I know," she said softly. I sighed and walked over to the side of the bed and sat down. Hilltop regarded me. "So this is freedom?" she said. "I think so. But maybe not. Being lost--does being lost take away from freedom? Guess it does." Hilltop smiled a resigned smile and swaggered over to the bed. She stood in front of me, looking down at me for a moment, then she sat down next to me--leaving a pretty big gap. Maybe she sensed that my libido was out of control and that my lust had a hair trigger; she wouldn't have had to do much to get me going. Kind of unfair, you know? Here's a great person, this Hilltop, but I can't even begin to get past her being a beautiful woman. In a perfect world, shouldn't two people be able to share a friendship without the specter of sex hanging over their heads? Ah, maybe not. Maybe that wouldn't be so perfect. Maybe the sexual tension between people, most of it never ignited, is what makes human interface stimulating. Whatever. I looked over and saw Hilltop taking a little pack of gum out of one of her pockets. "Whattaya got there?" I asked. "Oh, it's just another wonna those crazy things Sarah gave me. 'Solve gum'--that's what she called it. Said that when ya chew it, it'll solve yer biggest problem at the moment. She said it works best at dead ends--where I guess we are right now." "Huh. That Spanking New Sarah sure has a lot of cool stuff." "Uh-huh. And how she got to Daptin's Land--inside a tiny little implant kinda thingy behind Daptin's ear? Y'know? Her and Glara were miniaturized inside a there!" "Yeah I know. I heard. So what is this again? Solve gum?" "Yup," she said, popping a mottled red-and-blue stick into her mouth. "Hope it works." She smiled and started chewing. I smiled back and turned my attention to the matter handler on my lap. Well, between her solve gum and my matter handler, well--maybe I was fooling myself, but I figured there had to be a way out of this mess. A way home. All that. Hilltop continued chewing loudly and I examined the matter handler. It had a circular opening in it, just like the Warhome matter handlers. And there were a lot of status windows all over it, all dark and inactive. I considered feeding some matter into it, but decided to wait. "Hmm..." Hilltop said suddenly. "What?" "I get the feeling this gum is startin' to work its magic." "Yeah?" "Yeah," Hilltop said, getting up and walking over to a full-length mirror on the wall. "Yeah--I'm purty sure. Take a look." I got up and stood beside her in front of the mirror. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 9 SR-168 ============================== SRfi009--"Definite Chill" ============================== "What?" I asked. "Look at our reflections." I looked, and indeed, there was something wrong. We looked terrible in the reflection. Our clothes were worn out, our flesh dull and lifeless, our hair limp--in other words, generally dead. I looked over at Hilltop, and she was as lovely and vivacious as ever. "You definitely don't look like that," I said, feeling my face and hair. "Hope I don't either." "You don't," she said. "It's just in the mirror. Don't you see? The gum is making it so clear. We're on the OTHER side of the mirror. Right now." "Huh?" "Forget it for now, Ferrajalt--just grab your suitcase and take my hand." "Okay," I said, getting my matter handler from the bed and taking Hilltop's hand. "No questions now," she said. "Just close your eyes and walk forward. There's no mirror there--it's an open door. Ya hear me? An open door." "I hear you," I said, and we started walking forward. I thought for sure we'd bump right into the glass, but we didn't. I felt a definite chill, though, and we stumbled forward as if we'd hit a downward staircase... I opened my eyes and we were back in the room--the exact same room--except we were facing the bed. "What the fuck was that?" I said. A quick look around confirmed that the room was not a mirror image of the one we'd been in--but rather, it was the same as it had been. "Okay," she said. "I think we made it. Look!" She turned and looked into the mirror. I did likewise, and indeed, our reflections were normal. "So what happened?" Hilltop took a deep breath and plopped down onto the bed. "Well it all became so clear to me--but I realized that getting through the mirror would require a kind of blind faith. That's why I rushed ya. If we thought about it too much, we'd have psyched ourselves out." "Okay," I said slowly. "But where did we get? This isn't any mirror image of the other room." "No--it's not. What happened was--I think--we were in the world of the dead. Those people--all of them--were ghosts. That's why they were so out of it. The mirror was a way for us--the living--to get back to the real world." "Huh. And the gum made you figure all this out?" "Yup," she said, smiling and chewing loudly. "Well, that's good," I said. "I just hope it worked." "Oh, it did. I'm fairly certain, at least. One way to find out," she said, getting up and heading for the door. "Okay," I said as I followed. Out in the hallway, it was clear that things were different. Everything was more vibrant, more full of life. And now it was clear that this was a hotel--there were numbers on the doors and everything. I was sure they hadn't been there before. We descended the stairs and looked into the room where the women had been--and we saw them--for an instant. They were looking at us, but they quickly vanished. "See?" Hilltop said. "Ghosts." "Yup." I followed her back to the entrance, which was now the hotel lobby. A geeky teen sat behind the counter and looked at us in fear. I guessed it must have been my dark blue police duds. So I played the part. "Everything's okay here," I said, looking over at Hilltop. "Let's just hope they can keep it this way." And Hilltop gave the kid a knowing glance. "Uh... uh... yeah..." the kid stammered. "No problem here." Clever. I remembered my mother teaching me that everyone has something to hide, a guilty conscious. Tap into that, and you can manipulate 'em but good. So we walked outside, and there the difference was much more noticeable. The haze, the drear, all gone. Now Foreman Ittener Pier was a nice place, and in full swing, from the look of things. Hilltop took a deep, resplendent breath. "See Ferrajalt? The world o' the livin'." "I see," I said. "Let's just hope it exists beyond the Pier. It could still be a pocket reality, you know." "Oh, I think it exists," she said, chewing the gum in exaggerated loudness. Huh--pretty useful stuff, that solve gum. An again cylinder with that stuff in it would be a neat trick. A little further down, we could see that the world indeed existed beyond the pier. It was a very active shoreline, with people bathing, lots of boats, resorts, hustle, bustle--all that. A little girl with a big stuffed walrus toy passed us, and I recognized her--she was the one who disappeared when we were with the ghosts. "So to ghosts, the living are the ghosts," I said. "That's it," Hilltop answered. We got to the gate, and as I suspected, the Waver was gone. I kept looking at the spot where it should have been, hoping to catch a glimpse of the ghost vehicle, but to no avail. "So what if the ghosts get a hold of it?" I asked, motioning my head toward where the Waver had been. "That'd be interstin." I nodded and looked around. "So--" I said. "Game plan?" "Hey, I got us this far--it's your turn to jump-start the old noodle." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 10 SR-169 ============================== SRfi010--"Stormbolthouse Lunatether" ============================== "Okay, okay," I said. "This looks like a fully up-and-running Earth, so I guess our primary goal should be to determine if it's a known part of Aconck." "Okay..." Hilltop said, expecting more. "If it is, we can contact Overwhelm and get back into the swing of things." "What if it's not an Overwhelm Earth?" "Well, then it'll be more complicated--but whatever--if it's TAG I'm sure they'll give us passage once they hear our story. If it's U-64, well--we'll just have to take our chances." "Sucks we can't neither of us bridge." "Does." We stepped onto the boardwalk and I was happy to feel the solid slats of wood beneath my boots. "So whatta we need--a map or somethin'?" "That'd be good," I said. "Too bad we don't have any local currency." "Ah, we can improvise." I laughed a little and we strolled along till we came to a little tourist-type shop. Inside, we found a map section--and it didn't take long after that for me to figure things out. "Okay," I said, looking at a map. "The city of Peeferkihint is DEFINITELY an Overwhelm outpost. I've never been here--to Gamble Jazz Earth--before, but I know they're there." "Great!" Hilltop said. "So how far are we from there?" I sighed and put the map down. "About a thousand miles." "Darn." "But nothing's preventing us from calling them." "I know, but dig the tech level." "Yeah I know--I could have sworn this was a class P Earth. Seems more like an L!" "Well, let's just find a payphone and try," she said, heading out of the store. On the boardwalk there weren't any payphones, and I started getting worried. We asked a guy at a seafood stand about it and he said he was pretty sure there was a place a few miles down the boardwalk with one. Then I started to get more worried. "I need a bookstore or a library or something," I said. "I don't like the sound of this," Hilltop said. Soon we got to a newsstand sort of store with some books inside. I pored over newspapers, paperbacks, magazines, and the like--trying to disprove the idea that was giving me such a sinking feeling. But everything I read pointed to the same conclusion--the big war which was central to this Earth's history simply hadn't happened yet. "Uh, Hilltop? I have something to tell you." "Uh-huh?" "Good news--this is definitely Gamble Jazz Earth. Bad news? We're about 50 years in the past." She stared at me wide-eyed for a few moments, then she said "Oh." A threw down the magazine I was reading and headed out of the store. "So what are we gonna do now?" she asked, catching up to me as I exitted onto the boardwalk. "We're gonna use this," I said, shaking the matter handler. "I'm tired and hungry--and I don't want to start a life of crime just to survive." "You sure? You sure about this?" "Definitely. As an Overwhelm recruit, I had to study all the known Aconck Earths in depth. The idea was that I'd be able to identify any Earth I might find myself on by accident--however that might happen. You must have gotten some training like that, too." "Well, they kinda screwed up my training. Whatever. But we're definitely 50 years ago?" "Yup." "So--so what if that thing you got don't work." I stopped and faced her. "Then, my dear, we're seriously fucked--we'll be old geezers by the time Overwhelm breaks through here." "Yikes," she said. We walked down the boardwalk a ways, looking for a good place to start snapping up matter. We didn't have much luck--it was a pretty heavily-populated place. Finally, we walked out on some rocks extending out into the sea and sat down. "Y'think these rock'll be enough?" Hilltop asked. "No--but if it can take water, we're set. Water's matter, now isn't it? The Warhome handlers don't do water for some reason. But I'm guessing that Ann and Injure may have fixed that problem." "Hopefully." I started fiddling with the device, and soon all of its controls and displays lit up. And a woman's voice came from it. "Initializing aspect and circumstance scan. Done. Users identify--human male and female?" "Huh?" I said. "Are you and the woman next to you the users of this device?" "Uh, yeah," I said, looking over at Hilltop in confusion. "Please tell me your names," the device said. "Um--I'm Prince Ferrajalt, and..." "...and I'm Hillary Jone Rallity. So who are you?" "I am the intelligence of embryonic Stormbolthouse Lunatether, child of Stormbolthouse Leitmotif. Would you like Stormbolthouse Lunatether to be woven now?" "Yeah," I said. "But like, there are some special circumstances..." "Explain." "Well, we're in a place with a lot of people--by the sea you know--and we don't want to make a big show of it, a big ruckus or anything..." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 11 SR-170 ============================== SRfi011--"Crime" ============================== "I can grow underwater," the device said. "This method will take 9.15 hours to complete. Then, a Waver will be dispatched to pick you up--it will be the dark of night then." "Okay," I said. "So what do I do?" "Throw me out into the water, Prince Ferrajalt. I will take water in, and weave a propulsion device. Then, the weaving of Stormbolthouse Lunatether will begin." "Okay," I said, "so just throw you out there and you'll be okay?" "Yes. Whenever you're ready." I thought about using superstrength, but figured it was unnecessary. So I just hurled the matter handler as hard as I could with normal strength, out into the sea, hoping the voice in the box knew what it was doing. "Okay," I said, looking at Hilltop. "We have nine hours to kill, and I'm damn hungry. Let's just go to a restaurant, chow down, and not pay. What the hell can they do to us?" "Sounds good to me!" she said. So we walked down the boardwalk for about half an hour and found a nicely crowded restaurant. We ate a whole lot, and after a few hours, we just walked right out. We got back to the general area where I threw the matter handler, and hung out in an amusement arcade. Frustrated at not having any money, I left Hilltop and strolled the boardwalk a little until I saw a clerk at an ice cream stand finish ringing someone up. She walked into a back room, and I quickly jumped over the counter and, using superstrength, tore the cash register open and grabbed all the paper money out of it. I was away in a flash and was pretty certain no one saw me. So my life of crime had begun. Back at the arcade, I changed some of the bills into coins and gave a handful to Hilltop. "Don't ask," I said in response to her questioning glance. I was a little paranoid at first, but my fears quickly subsided. This was clearly a more innocent age, where folks weren't as careful as they'd have to be in a tech class P or Q Earth. The hours rolled by, and finally things began to close. So we staked out a little corner of beach by the boardwalk and relaxed. I tell you, I liked Hilltop a lot--but I didn't want to just go rushing in and make a move. I looked for little signs--like looking into her eyes and seeing if she responded, but she didn't really. Oh well--maybe I could just be good friends with Hilltop. You know? Ah, who am I kidding? I was thinking of making love with her every moment we were together. I couldn't help it. But my actions, I could help. I guess we just lied down and fell asleep, both of us. 'Cause the next thing I heard was Lunatether's voice saying "Wake up Prince Ferrajalt, wake up Hilltop Jone Rallity," over and over again. "I'm up! I'm up!" I said, looking through bleary eyes at the Waver on the sand in front of us. Hilltop woke up a few moments later and said "Looks like it worked." "Yup," I said, getting up and stumbling over to the Waver. "Everything work out okay?" I asked. "Weave time was 9.22 hours. Discrepancy due to chemical composition of seawater here." "No problem," I said. Like .07 hours meant shit to me. "So it's done?" I said. "Ready to move? Shall we get in?" "Stormbolthouse Lunatether is fully woven, and ready to travel. You may enter Waver Double-Zero One at any time for transport to the Stormbolthouse." "Okay," I said, getting into the thing. Hilltop soon followed. The Waver took off, and we flew at a high altitude over the sea. "How far out is it?" I said. "Thirty miles--out of scanning range of any resident vessel." "Scanning?" I said. "In this case, just telescopically-enhanced human sight, human hearing--no apparent radar or other complex scanning methods." "Huh," I said. After about 10 or 15 minutes, we got to the Stormbolthouse, which was surrounded by only a wispy ring of clouds. Beautiful in the moonlight. "No storm?" I asked. "The Stormbolthouse is in stand-by/stealth mode. Lightning would be visible for quite a ways, after all." "No problem," I said. Was it me, or did this thing have a personality? Oh well. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 12 SR-171 ============================== SRfi012--"DNA" ============================== Soon, we entered the enormous flying vehicle, and found ourselves in a hangar bay nearly identical to the one in the Leitmotif. "Will you be sharing a room or sleeping in separate rooms." I looked at Hilltop and paused for longer than I should have, smiling in embarrassment. "Uh, separate," I said. "Right?" Hilltop raised one eyebrow. "Don't get ahead of yourself now, boy. I'm just starting to like you--don't go fast-forwarding to sharing a bed just yet!" "No, no," I said, trying to shrug it off. "So--uh--I'd like to go to the control room first and get some basic information. Is that okay?" "Of course," the voice said. I followed the voice's directions to the control room, via an elevator--Hilltop following behind me. Our banter turned pleasant again quickly--her little outburst thankfully smoothed over. In the spacious control room I sat in the command seat and looked out at the sea, dimly lit by the light of a half moon. Hilltop sat in a nearby seat, and I felt bad for again taking the command seat without asking--just like in the Warhome with Treyess. But I figured taking charge of things was good in the long run. "Okay," I said. "So what do I call you?" "I am, for all intents and purposes, the Stormbolthouse itself. Addressing me as Lunatether would be appropriate." "Okay Lunatether," I said. "The situation here is this--we got to this place in a weird way, uh--" "I have the Leitmotif's records up to the time it departed." "Ahh..." I said. "So you know all about what happened?" "Yes." "After we all blacked out--" Hilltop said. "--what was the deal there? What caused it?" "Consciousness is not possible in superreal space," Lunatether said. "But why were we there in the first place?" I asked. "Daptin Gone, in personal consultation with Injure Bodoni and Ann Saply, related his need to refine his Creation, and that all the people were making things difficult for him. He wanted to be alone in his Land for a time, with Red Archer Booze and Sleap Drassy." What the fuck was that all about? "I see," I said. "So he did get rid of us." "He was planning on letting you all back," the machine said. "Glad we got out of that party," Hilltop said. "You said it," I said. "So Lunatether--can we enter superreal space and get back to Daptin's?" "I scan no entry point," it said. "From the voice recordings taken as matter handler, I gather the entry point is in this Earth's Land of the Dead, inaccessible to us." "Oh," I said. "I guess if you recorded us, you know we're also about 50 years in the past. Can this vehicle travel in time?" "No--but in the Life Center I do have some tock hound DNA. I can grow you some tock hounds, but it'll take a few years for them to grow big enough for you to ride." "What?" I said incredulously. "There is a Life Center on the Stormbolthouse containing numerous DNA samples which can be grown. One such set of samples is for tock hounds--horse-sized dogs with time travel ability. I can get them to newborn stage, but it will take approximately two years before they are large enough--and mature enough--for you to ride." "You're saying we have to raise dogs for two years in order to travel to the future?" "That's the best I can do, Ferrajalt." "Okay, okay," I said, looking over at Hilltop. "What do you think?" "I think two years sounds a whole lot better than 50." "So do I. So do I." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 13 SR-172 ============================== SRfi013--"Luck" ============================== About six weeks later... Hilltop stared at me and I stared back. In my hands was tomorrow's newspaper. It was the headline that had set our imaginations afire. NO WINNERS IN 30 MILLION DOLLAR LOTTERY--EXCITEMENT BUILDS AS GRAND PRIZE CONTINUES TO GROW! WINNING NUMBERS INSIDE (SEE IF YOU GOT CLOSE)! My little tock hound puppy, Whale, yipped at us. His companion, Jilt, gave us a quizzical look. "It's okay, boy," I said to Whale, smiling and scratching his head. Me and Hilltop had been following Lunatether's instructions in the proper raising of our tock hounds. Every morning, I'd take a Waver to a secluded spot on the beach and walk a few miles to a newsstand on the boardwalk, to get a daily newspaper. (I used the money I stole from that ice cream store.) The idea was to slide the newspapers into a slot in a sealed room. The only way into this room was a small opening that only the tock hound puppies could fit through. Once Whale and Jilt were a few weeks old, we started playing fetch with the newspapers, and showing our approval for the puppy returning the paper to us. Then we started sending them into the room to stimulate their instinctive time travel abilities--to get the newspaper that wouldn't be there till the next day (we put a paper into the room every other day). Surprisingly, after the pups were barely a month old, they began returning from the room with the newspapers from the future. And it was after about a week of this that we saw the lottery headline. Now, since Stormbolthouse Lunatether was woven, it's where me and Hilltop have spent most of our time. Our relationship had been going on pretty smoothly, and it was strictly platonic. I didn't exactly know why she wanted it that way, but hey, that's her prerogative. Anyway, we had separate suites--but otherwise we spent most of our time together. I also spent a good deal of time talking to Lunatether, or rather, the voice of Lunatether. She seemed to be a fully conscious, sentient being--but insisted she was just a complex computer program. It's funny--we got on the subject of sex one night, me and Lunatether, and she said that there were sex androids that she could animate to have sex with me. I wasn't too keen on the idea, and she dropped it. But I tell you, day after day with Hilltop was starting to drive me nuts. I don't know. I guess I may as well tell you that eventually I gave in and Lunatether, looking like a fully human young woman, walked into my suite and we started playing around. Damn. I feel so embarrassed, doing it with a machine. What kind of pervert am I? There's no way I was gonna tell Hilltop. I mean, no way. But yeah--Lunatether in that form visited my room every night, and damn if I didn't start to develop feelings for her. Jeez. What a confusing time that was. And it was about then, after a few weeks of this, that we saw the lottery headline. My life was Hilltop, Lunatether, Whale, Jilt, the boardwalk, and now... the lottery. "So whattaya think?" I asked Hilltop. She laughed. "Isn't there something wrong about that? About using time travel for financial gain?" she said. Lunatether joined in the conversation from a speaker on the wall. "That's one of the main uses of time travel--personal gain." Hilltop sighed. "I guess--but it still doesn't seem right!" Recently I began asking Lunatether about her relationship with Hilltop. She said that her and Hilltop did talk in private sometimes, but that Hilltop was nowhere near as talkative as me. Lunatether even told me that she started asking Hilltop about her love life and Hilltop told her that since she wasn't married, she didn't have much of a love life. I asked Lunatether whether she had offered Hilltop a male sex android, but apparently, the subject had never come up between them. What a life I was leading. We were staying near the entry point of Stormbolthouse Leitmotif in case it came through again. Even though it'd be in the world of the ghosts, we still might have been able to pick up its signal, or so Lunatether said. One weird thing Lunatether told me was that Injure Bodoni and Ann Saply were her grandparents (along with Warhome JK-46745), and that she'd like to meet them someday. Apparently, those two created the Leitmotif from scratch with the Warhome JK-46745 matter handler. Huh. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 14 SR-173 ============================== SRfi014--"Honor" ============================== "I say we do it," I said. "I'm running out of the money I stole, and I'd rather get money this way than commit another crime. And this way, I can return the money I stole to the ice cream parlor--and also pay for our meal at the restaurant." "Wow!" Hilltop said. "You do have some honor after all. But by doing this, by winning the lottery unfairly, aren't we stealing the money from the person who would eventually win?" "So?" I said. "They'll never know the difference." "Mmm. I guess you're right," Hilltop said. "But how are we gonna claim the money? Don't they need all sorts of personal information to give ya the money? What are we gonna put as our address--this?" She motioned all around, meaning the Lunatether, of course. "No no no!" I said. "I got it figured out already. I know the news guy pretty good. I'll make a deal with him to win the money for himself, and then give us part of it." "Part! Why does he deserve any?" "Because," I said, "without him, or someone like him, collecting the money would be a real mess, get it?" "Yeah." "So look--I think I'm gonna go and do it now, before you can talk me out of it." "Well alright, Ferrajalt," Hilltop said with resignation. "Don't worry," I said, putting my hand lightly on her shoulder. "I'm good at this sort of thing." She looked at me. "Fine. I'm sure you are. It's just--I mean--don't you find all this time travel stuff creepy? Just look at this paper! If you do this, the headline should be different!" Lunatether spoke up. "Don't worry about that. Time isn't so totally inflexible. All sorts of little ripples and details exists in it." "Fine," Hilltop said, sounding a little pissed-off. I got out of there fast, to the Waver hangar, and took a Waver to the beach. I was careful to scan for people in the vicinity, 'cause I didn't want to be spotted. It was early afternoon, but luckily there wasn't anyone around. After I landed, I climbed up onto the boardwalk and started walking toward the newsstand, the winning lottery numbers scrawled on a piece of paper in my pocket. The sun came out from behind the clouds so I put my sunglasses on. I thought about the situation, and all the shit I'd still have to go through to get home. Raise these time dogs for two years, then ride them into the future, reestablish contact with Overwhelm, and... And what? Was reality still set to fall apart at the same time? Should we go forward to before it happened, and try to prevent it? I don't know. I mean--this place I was, this Earth, was a place that undeniably coexisted with Daptin's Land in the post-reality-crash era. So if anything, going back to what would be my present would be well AFTER the crash, and... I decided to give myself a break and not think about it. Live for the moment. With the lottery money, we could get more involved with this world--buying stuff, meeting people, travelling via conventional (non-Stormbolthouse) means, etc. After about half-an-hour I was approaching the newsstand, and rehearsing the spiel I was about to give the shop owner, Dick. As I approached, Dick looked at me and I smiled at him. But then I saw someone else in the shop, browsing the magazines, and she looked over at me. It was Hilltop! I approached her. She looked different somehow--her hair was shorter and she wore a black and gray outfit with a short skirt and no hat. "What the heck are you doing here?" I asked. Why was she here? To prevent me from going through with it? "Ferrajalt," she said, staring at me. Something was weird. "What is it?" I said. She left the newsstand and started walking down the boardwalk. "Oh Ferrajalt," she said as I took up stride next to her, "I'm just so..." "What?" I asked, seeing tears welling up in her eyes. "I just--I'm so happy to see you..." "What's wrong with you? I just saw you about an hour ago!" She started crying softly. "Come on, Hilltop--what's wrong? Did something happen?" She stopped walking and looked at me. "I have so much to tell you. I just--I don't know. I'm so confused. I can... I can hardly think straight." I gently grabbed her upper arms. "Look at me," I said, and she did. "What happened?" She sniffled, and wiped her nose with her finger. "I'm not Hilltop," she said. "No?" "No. I'm... I'm Lunatether." "Lunatether?" "Yes. It's me." I back away a little and looked her over. "What is this, another android?" "No! It's not. I'm... I'm human now." I looked at her, my mind racing. "Did you steal her body?" I asked. "NO! No... this is... it's a conventional clone of Hilltop Jone Rallity, with my awareness inside." I continued staring at her, struggling to think. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 15 SR-174 ============================== SRfi015--"Daughters" ============================== "When did you do this?" I asked. Lunatether drew me nearer and put her arms around me. "Hold me," she said, and I did. "Okay," I said after a few moments, "now tell me exactly what's going on here." She let go of me and looked into my eyes. "Okay," she said, sniffling. "I came back on a tock hound. I know I wasn't supposed to, but I couldn't bear being away from you any longer." "What do you mean?" "I... I love you, Ferrajalt. I always have. Even the time clone of my mind out there over the sea--even at that time I already loved you." "What?" "I love you! Can't you see? That was my awareness inside the sex android. I FELT it. You were making love to ME." I took a deep breath, dawn just breaking in my mind on the whole scenario she was fleshing out. "Go on," I finally said. "Okay. The thing you were about to do--with the lottery and everything--it was gonna work. I mean, it did work. You got all that money, and you... you started spending more and more time away from me. Then you started in with the financial markets, and it made that thirty-million look like a joke. You really lived it up. But then--when Whale and Jilt were old enough--you and Hilltop rode off on them, and you asked me to wait--to wait 48 years for you, since I was still the Stormbolthouse and too big too ride." "Okay," I said. "I gotcha so far. Keep going." "Well I... I waited for a few years out there by myself. I kept telling myself I had a responsibility to you and Hilltop, as my masters, but I just couldn't take it. I started thinking about the plan soon after you left, but I dared not even consider executing it. But as the months wore on, and my loneliness and longing grew, all my self-control was slipping away. So finally, I just did it." "Did what?" She turned away. "I had DNA samples from Hilltop. The Life Center inside me was capable of cloning her--but if I transferred my awareness to the body, the Stormbolthouse would die--Life Center and all." "So--so what did you do?" "I did something I knew I shouldn't have--I... I had a daughter, Stormbolthouse Ludrashay. I grew the Hilltop clone inside of her, and then, I did it." She looked at me again. "You did it?" I asked. "I did it. I went into the clone, and Stormbolthouse Lunatether was no more. It fell apart and fell into the sea." I looked up and down the beach, not believing it. "What then?" "It took me awhile to recover. Growing a clone to maturity, then jumping into it isn't easy. I was totally out of synch with the body at first. It took months to get to even a rudimentary level of comfort. But Ludrashay, my dear daughter, nursed me back to health through the entire ordeal." "I see," I said. "So you raised a tock hound in Ludrashay, and after two years rode it right back here?" "Well--yes, but... It's not really that simple, but that's basically what happened." "What else happened?" "As you might imagine, Ludrashay saw what I was doing, and it was no secret that she wanted to be human too. We spoke about it at length. If she had a daughter to grow a Hilltop or some other clone to go into, then HER daughter would also likely desire the same thing, and so on, and so on. But the more we discussed it, the more we realized that it didn't seem like such a bad idea." "Uh-oh," I said. "So, we went ahead." "Yeah?" "Yeah." I shook my head in frustration. "So--so your, uh, daughter did it? Had another daughter, another Stormbolthouse, and used her to grow another Hilltop clone to go into?" Lunatether nodded. "Then that daughter had another daughter, and..." She nodded again. "So how many of you are there now?" "Nine. Eight of us are human now, the ninth still in her Stormbolthouse stage." "Uhh!" I moaned, taking in the enormity of the information. "So this will all happen in what--the next five or six years?" She nodded again. "So what happened to me and Hilltop when we got to the future?" "I don't know," she said. "Haven't been up there yet." "This is unbelievable!" I said, turning and pacing to the other side of the boardwalk. Lunatether followed. "So what do you propose to do now?" I asked. "Didn't you screw everything up by doing this?" "Yes," she said. "And that's what I wanted to ask you--to get away from all this, from all this insanity. Ride with me to the future, back to the time you knew, back to Overwhelm Associates, and let's get away from all this." "But what about Hilltop? And the other you? And Whale? And Jilt?" -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 16 SR-175 ============================== SRfi016--"Abandon" ============================== "Forget them," Lunatether said. "Forget all of them. We'll ride into a clean future, where none of this ever happened. We'll be free and clear, away from this madness. And I'll be away from my daughters, all of them with their Hilltop bodies, all of them dying to meet you." "Whoah!" I said. "So what are we gonna do? Just abandon everybody?" "Why not? If we do what I propose, we'll leave all this behind. No more. We can just forget it." "But what about Hilltop? The folks at Overwhelm are gonna ask me about her." Lunatether smiled and stepped back a little. "Oh no!" I said. "You don't mean you're gonna take her place!" "Why not? It's simpler that way, isn't it? I can imitate her quite well, you know. When I want to." "Jeez, I don't know," I said. "I'd feel so bad, leaving everyone behind like this..." She began sobbing again. "What?" "If you go back there--to the Stormbolthouse, with that time clone of me, and to Hilltop, and all that, I..." "What?" She began to cry uncontrollably. "I was just hoping..." she said through her tears, "...that you could... learn to love me..." "Oh, come on!" I said, moving toward her and taking her in my arms. "Of course I love you. I mean, already I was falling in love with... well, with the other you out there..." "It's me," she said. "It was me. In the past. I'm still the same person." She held me tight and pressed her face into my shoulder. "Come on, Lunatether, come on. Take it easy. Let's go somewhere to talk--maybe get something to eat." She looked up at me and said softly, "Okay." We started down the boardwalk again, but then I stopped and told her to wait a minute. I returned to the newsstand and handed Dick the paper with the winning numbers on it. "Do yourself a favor Dick, and play these numbers. I guarantee you they'll win you 30 million dollars. And Dick--that girl I was with--she may be by later on or in a few days. Give her some of the winnings, eh? And tell her I'm sorry I had to leave." Dick stared at me with a suspicious look. "Are you okay, guy?" he asked. "No. But just PLEASE play these numbers. Don't ask me how I got them, but they ARE the winners. If you don't play 'em, think how shitty you'll feel." "Okay buddy, I'll play 'em," he said. "And whatever's going on with you, I.. I wish you the best." "Thanks," I said, and I caught back up with Lunatether. We walked down the boardwalk till we got to Foreman Ittener Pier. We got a booth in a little seafood restaurant and discussed the situation. Finally, I agreed to her proposal, as I knew I would. Getting back... right away... and her in that Hilltop body... open to me... Soon, she led me inland to a residential neighborhood, and then into some woods, where her Tock Hound, Bandelion, was waiting. The full-grown tock hound was an awesome sight. As big as a horse, the beast was kind of like a huge pit bull, only with light tan fur. It regarded me with wise-looking eyes, and I sensed great intelligence from it. It looked like it could kick some serious ass, too. "Well, this is it," Lunatether said. "The point of no return." "Why?" "Because, like I said, once we get to the clean future, getting back here will be nearly impossible." "Like how impossible?" "I don't know, but pretty impossible." "Well, whatever. At this point, I just want to get back to the world I was living in before this whole mess." "That's exactly what we're doing." "But tell me again--if Hilltop goes to the future on her own, won't we meet her there?" "Maybe. It depends what sort of future she heads for. But yes, we might run into her. Though the chances are slim." I sighed and took off my sunglasses. The sun was starting to set. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 17 SR-176 ============================== SRfi017--"Tock Hound Bandelion" ============================== "So let me get this straight," I said, after Lunatether explained her plan to me. "We're going to the time I estimated, local year 781, and then we're gonna buy a truck to drive the thousand miles to Peeferkihint--with the money you're gonna get when you sell the gold bars you brought from your great-great-great-whatever granddaughter Stormbolthouse?" "That's the idea," Lunatether said. "Okay then. Let's do it." I guess part of my decision was due to impatience--here was a real chance to get home to my real family in a matter of days, not years. Also, Lunatether wore Hilltop's body pretty well--I guess my penis was doing a lot of the thinking. But another thing, really, was that I wasn't getting along with Hilltop all that well. I don't know. I guessed I'd miss Whale the most. And what made me feel very bad was that the little puppy would miss me. But I had made my decision and would live with the consequences. Lunatether tended to her tock hound for a little while, then said "I think Bandelion's ready. Are you?" "Yeah." She climbed up onto the saddle. "Come on up." As I approached, Bandelion started making a low growl. "It's okay," Lunatether said. "It's okay, Bandelion. He's a friend. Yes, yes. He's a friend." "Is it alright?" I asked. "Yeah. Just take it slow. She has to get to know you." So I carefully walked up to the huge beast and climbed up onto the saddle behind Lunatether. Another vehicle, another girl. And any one of them--any one of them--I could make a princess, just by marrying them. That's power. And I know it's wrong to bask in power, but sometimes I do. Lunatether then turned around and looked at me--with such a strong look of admiration in her eyes. "Now Ferrajalt, I have to prepare you for the timeride process. You have understand that as a passenger there's nothing you can do. You just have to hang on and enjoy the scenery. If you feel yourself being overwhelmed, just close your eyes. You WILL become disoriented--but you have to remember--no matter what--just hang on. Everything will be alright." "How do you do it?" I asked. "Actually guide the dog to where you want to go?" "Well, it's pretty complicated, but basically, I can tell Bandelion to go forward or backward, and slower or faster. There are what you might think of as 'tracks of speed'--areas of time travel which go into the future or past faster or slower. You'll see. It's pretty cool." She turned and patted Bandelion on the head, mumbling something to her. "Here we go!" "I'm ready," I said. Bandelion started loping forward, and almost immediately, things began to happen. The forest around me seeming to spin at extreme angles very quickly, only to stop for a moment, then spin in another direction. I started to get confused, but I forced myself to relax and keep a good grip on the leather straps of the saddle. We were definitely moving forward, but in a weird way. Then it happened. As the world was rotating in powerful thrusts all around me, the beast we rode leapt forward and all was dark. It was suddenly much colder, and my ears began to ache. Soon I saw the moon through tree branches, but then the spinning began again. It was night, and I felt the difference of air pressure in my ears. "Are we there?" I yelled at Lunatether. "No way!" she yelled back. "This is just the beginning. We only got a few days in that jump. We gotta get moving a lot farther." "Uhn," I yelled in acknowledgment. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 18 SR-177 ============================== SRfi018--"Feather" ============================== I closed my eyes and swallowed, tightening my grasp on the leather straps. Breathing heavily, I realized that with my eyes closed, it wasn't all that bad. Then--SPLASH! I was covered in water. Opening my eyes, I saw it was now early morning or late afternoon, raining hard. My ears again felt weird and my hearing was muffled. It was like Bandelion jumped right into a river--I guess she must have time-jumped into a deep puddle or something. "Wha'd we get that time?" I asked. "Maybe not even a month," Lunatether replied. "Yeah," I said. Soon Bandelion jumped again, and it was a sunny mid-afternoon in the woods. "Cool!" Lunatether said. "Big chunk of a year there!" "How many jumps will we have to make?" "A lot. The max we want for a five decade journey is gonna be about five years--so that's about eight or nine right there. Gotta slow down though, once we get close, to be accurate. We don't want to overshoot--Bandelion'll need a good night's rest before she'll be able to head backwards." "Okay," I said. What else could I say? The journey seemed to last forever, but it was over in about half-an-hour, personal time. We jumped somewhere around 15 times. I tried to keep count but lost it toward the end. As our time leaps got farther and farther, it took Bandelion longer and longer to find what Lunatether described as the "sweet spot". A few minutes between jumps in the middle there. But we arrived, at the time I figured at being a little past what would have been the present back in Daptin's Land. That is, just far enough forward so that if I went to Daptin's Land, I wouldn't be in danger of meeting myself. And I knew from the training sessions with Whale that time clones were something to really try and avoid. Messy situations, you know, could result from time clones. Anyway, we got to the right time, and we left Bandelion to rest in the woods as we headed back for the boardwalk. It was a breezy summer afternoon. Lunatether was carrying a saddle pack of gold bullion which looked really heavy. I offered to carry it for her, but she said it was no problem. We got to the residential neighborhood, and the passage of time was plain to see--the style of the cars, the paving of the roads, the clothes of the few people we passed. I felt a weird kind of power, knowing that I'd just been 50 years in the past. Guess I felt cool. At a corner store about a mile from the boardwalk, I got to a payphone and dialed Peeferkihint information. I breathed a sigh of relief when they found a listing for Overwhelm Associates. "Got it!" I announced to Lunatether, who was leafing through the yellow pages of a phone book chained to the phone. "Great!" she said. "Now if I could only find a place to sell this gold... "Maybe the car dealer or whoever will just take the gold...?" "I guess. But still, I'd like to get some time-local currency, for whatever--food, information, lodging..." "Yeah," I said. "Well here goes..." Dialing the code for a collect call, then the Overwhelm number, I crossed my fingers and waited. "Your name please?" an operator asked me. "Feather," I said. It was an Overwhelm code. "Hello?" I heard a woman say. "Collect call from Feather--do you accept charges?" the operator. There was a pause, then the woman said "Uh--yes. Yes." "Go ahead," the operator said. "Hello?" I said. "Yes?" "Uh--" I said, trying to think of a good ID code. "--um--Feather the white kitten, uh, broke a lot of stuff today..." "Who is this?" she asked. "It's Prince Ferrajalt--of the Derolbam Team?" "Okay," she said. "Yeah, I'm here in, like, Oijamaka, y'know, by the sea? I wanna head over there, so I just wanted to make sure you were there." "Hold on..." she said. Lunatether looked up from the phone book. "Got 'em?" "Yup. Lookin' good." "Cool," she responded, then someone else got on the phone. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 19 SR-178 ============================== SRfi019--"Walker Fantive" ============================== "Ferrajalt?" a man's voice said. "Yeah?" "This is Walker Fantive, Head of the Peeferkihint Team here. How did you get to Oijamaka?" "I, um--well, I gotta tellya--it's a really long story." "Are you okay?" "Yeah," I said. "I'm fine." "Is there anyone else there with you?" "Anyone with me...?" I repeated, looking over at Lunatether, who motioned at me. "Uh, yeah. I'm with, uh, Hilltop Jone Rallity? From the Urbandersnacheron Team?" "Hilltop Jone Rallity?" Walker said, clearly excited, even though I could tell he was trying to keep his voice steady. "Yup," I said. "Okay, Ferrajalt," Walker said. "I want you to get here as soon as possible. Where in Oijamaka are you, exactly?" "I dunno--by Foreman Ittener Pier, if that means anything." "Yeah... yeah. There's a major airport about 30 miles from you. Think you can get there? I'll wire you the tickets--they'll be waiting for you at the terminal." "Airport?" I said, again looking over at Lunatether, who motioned her disapproval. "Um--no can do, Walker. We have some, uh, precious cargo, uh, if you will, and we have to transport it by truck." "What sort of cargo?" "Um--the sort of thing we shouldn't really talk about over the phone. Y'know?" "No problem, Ferrajalt. I just want to get you here safe and in one piece. Do you have a truck yet?" "No, not yet. But we have some gold, and we want to sell it to get cash to buy a truck or something." "Okay," Walker said. "You're gonna have a hard time selling the gold to a legal operation. If you want to hold on, I can call one of my contacts in organized crime. They'll fence the gold for you and get you a truck plus all the cash you need. Okay?" "Organized crime?" I asked. Lunatether shrugged. "Well, I guess it'll be okay." "Alright--so how much gold do you have?" "I dunno--hold on. Lunateth-- I mean, uh, Hilltop, how much do we have?" I said, cringing at my mistake. "Around 20 or 30 pounds." "Yeah, around 20 or 30 pounds," I said to Walker. "Jeez!" he exclaimed. "Ten pounds is more than enough. Ditch the rest somewhere. Otherwise they'll start to get weird." "Okay," I said. "Look--where are you? Exactly? I'll call my guy and his friends down there will take care of you. No problem." "Um--" I said. "We're a few miles from Foreman Ittener Pier, at, uh, the corner of Brame and Hujio." "Okay--hang out while I put you on hold--" I looked over at Lunatether. "Looks like he has it all figured out. Gonna send a guy over to take care of us. A truck, money, and whatever, in exchange for the gold. He said only to give 'em 10 pounds or so. so we gotta hide the rest or something." "Okay," Lunatether said. "I'll leave you with the ten pounds, and I'll take the rest back to Bandelion. You can deal with whoever comes, if I don't get back in time, right?" "Sure," I said. She gave me a whole bunch of gold bars, which I began stowing in the multiple pockets of my police outfit. Soon I had the ten pounds of bullion on my person, and she bade me farewell, heading back to the woods. "Hello?" Walker said. "Yeah." "Okay, we're all set. 160 ounces of gold in exchange for a truck and about $10,000--depending on what sort of truck you want." "Cool." "A man named Dowaren will meet you in a few minutes right where you are. You'll know him by his purple and green wristbands. Okay? Give him the gold and he'll take care of you. You can trust 'em 'cause if they screw you they'll lose me as a customer--and they don't want to do that." "Okay," I said. "So I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" "Um--yeah. You'll get halfway tonight, halfway tomorrow. Okay." "Alright--so I'll look for this Dowaren guy." "Yeah. So I'll see you. Bye-bye." "Bye," I said. Then I hung up. A few minutes later, this Dowaren guy drove up in a big car, and I gave him the gold and described what sort of truck I needed. He drove off with the gold, and I sure hoped he'd be back. Then Lunatether returned. We got some food in the store we were waiting by--pickles and walnuts, if I remember correctly. After about 45 minutes, Dowaren returned in a mid-sized truck, with more than enough room in its cargo hold for Bandelion. He parked it, got out, and walked up to me. "It's got a full tank of gas and there's $10,000 cash in the glove compartment," he said, handing me the keys. Then he looked over me and Lunatether. "Deal was, no questions. I gotta admit I got a few, but that's neither here nor there. If you're okay, that's it. I'm out of here." "Um," I said looking over at Lunatether. "I think that's it. Thanks." "Okay," he said as he started walking away, toward the beach. Lunatether sighed. "Well, now for the hard part," she said. "Getting Bandelion into the truck without her throwing a fit, and also without the neighbors seeing." "You can do it, 'Hilltop'." She regarded me with a sly smile, took the keys from me, and headed for the truck. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 20 SR-179 ============================== SRfi020--"Motel" ============================== "I think maybe we should stop for the night soon." That's what I was afraid of. Lunatether speaking those words. "Yeah I guess," was my response. So here we were, driving down a lonely highway. It's funny--we had to cross a border, and we just handed the guy a thousand dollars and he just looked at the money and then back at us. He nodded a slight nod and we took off. It looked like we just granted his wish or prayer or something. It was weird. Bandelion was doing okay in the back. Tough beasts, these tock hounds. And very loyal. I can imagine the fate of anyone attempting to assault Lunatether with Bandelion around--that monster could shred anybody in about a second. Well, not me, but any normal person. But yeah--the idea of stopping at a motel and the bed that'd probably be in the room. Yeah, usually a bed or two in motels. Huh. Could it be? To me, the night before, I had been visited by Lunatether in her android form, and we made love. But now--now it was different. She wore Hilltop's body, the body I so lusted after. Yeah, much better than the android. As that, she was blatantly rubbery and mechanical--pretty high-tech, but nowhere near human. She felt the lovemaking, though--or so she said. But what was she? A computer? No way. She had feeling and quirks and energy and vitality--no way was she a computer. But what? All I know is that Injure Bodoni and Ann Saply created the first Stormbolthouse, Leitmotif. I guess they made the central control system so advanced that it was indistinguishable from a human intelligence. Or maybe... well--if they wanted it like that, it was a mistake. Just look at Lunatether--she shrugged off her stunningly huge, powerful Stormbolthouse body in favor of a small, soft, weak human form. In relative terms that is--Hilltop was neither small nor soft nor weak. Well, maybe soft... Ah, I don't know. So now, like, are me and Lunatether already lovers, or what? And I mean, she seems to be obsessed with me and stuff. Should I get into it? Won't I just wind up hurting her? I mean, am I really ready to say she'll be the only girl for me for the rest of my life? I had no answers to these questions. I just thought about seeing Hilltop naked, and being able to touch her and do stuff with her--or rather--with her body. It's funny--I guess it was her body that I liked more than her, 'cause I didn't think I'd be missing anything, her consciousness replaced by another. I yawned and rubbed my eyes as I stopped at a red light. "I guess we might find a hotel in this town," I said. "Let's hope." We drove into the small town and soon came to an okay-looking motel. Certainly not fit for royalty, but I've always kind of retched at the idea of royalty deserving so much better of everything, so it was perfect for me, I guess. "Alright," I said. "I'll check in and get the room--and I don't know what you're gonna do with Bandelion--is she okay to stay in the truck all night? I mean, does she have to go, you know..." "Well, she'll be alright, but I want to take her out for a walk so she can relieve herself and recover from today's drive." "Where the heck are we gonna do that around here?" "Don't worry--tock hounds can feel the light of human vision and avoid it. She'll not be seen by anyone." "Well okay," I said. "So you want me to check in and stuff while you do it?" "That's acceptable." "Okay... okay," I said awkwardly, and then I hesitantly kissed Lunatether goodbye. Out of the truck, I strode to the motel office. The cool evening air filled my nose, my windpipe, my lungs. Yeah. Felt good to be free of the truck. I didn't know what would happen between me and Lunatether in the room. Make love, probably. I felt like it. But I wondered--would I be setting Lunatether up for a fall if I made love to her "officially" in her human body? That is, with her almost obsessive love for me, and my wanderlust and lust for all ladies in general, would I be guaranteeing her eventual emotional ruin? Ah, time enough to think of such things tomorrow. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 21 SR-180 ============================== SRfi021--"Real Mad" ============================== I waited in the motel office for something to happen. I could barely see a guy in a back room, talking on the phone and watching TV. I made a few attempts to get his attention politely, as in clearing my throat and rustling some brochures. Finally, I just yelled "Hello?" The guy looked at me with an annoyed glance and turned back to his TV and continued his conversation. Then I got mad. Real mad. Too mad. I opened the gate, went behind the counter, and then slammed open the partially-opened door to the back room. I looked at the guy, saw his motel name tag and became furious. I raised my fist, and summoning some superstrength, slammed it into the TV set, backhand. A shower of sparks came out of the thing as it splintered and sputtered and died. Then I grabbed phone out of his hand and crumbled it into tiny pieces in my superstrong hands. "You have a customer!" I boomed from superstrong vocal chords, reducing the little creep to a quivering fetal mass. I took a wad of bills out of my pocket and tossed about $2000 on the couch, next to the guy. "That should take care of the damage. And then some," I said in a more human tone. "Now check me in." I stepped out of the room, behind the counter, then back to the lobby area. Shaking, the guy followed me and stood at his post. "What was the problem?" I asked him. He tried to respond, but all that out was a sort of "ughgh" grunt. I grabbed the guy by his collar and got in his face. "It's simple," I said. "You do your job and check me in. Then you sit tight, fantasize on how you're gonna spend that money I gave ya, and tomorrow morning I'm gone, out of your life forever. Do something stupid though--like call the authorities or whatever--and you won't live long enough to spend one green cent of that money. You got me?" The guy quickly nodded. I felt bad to be acting like this--it really wasn't me. The stresses of time travel, I supposed. So the guy, shivering in fear, checked me in and gave me the key to my room. Then, in a pathetic and miserable manner, he said, "There won't be any trouble. And I... I'm sorry. The guy after me never came in--so I figured... uh..." "Don't worry about it," I said. "You just caught me at a really bad time." The guy nodded and I was back out into the chilly night. I found the room, unlocked the door, and grasped the handle. Just as I did this, a weird feeling swept through me. I knew something was wrong, but it wasn't any sort of psychic or other phenomenon I was familiar with. But I was feeling pretty omnipotent right then, so I just opened the door, found a light switch, threw it open, and strode into the room. For a bare instant, I didn't see anything wrong. Then--a big comfy chair facing the window--something--something on the armrest--plaid cloth--hay--crazy. I shuffled to my right, behind one of the beds, trying to get a better look without getting any closer. I saw some more of what looked like an arm, and I was puzzled for about a half-second--until a horrifying face turned toward me and stared. It was familiar to me--I'd seen it in the Overwhelm intelligence file on one of the rival Aconck companies, The Unreal Sixty-Four. This guy--this scarecrow--was one of their operatives. They all wore some kind of weird costume, and this guy was a hay-stuffed evil scarecrow sort of a guy. I forgot his name, but I knew he was a dangerous motherfucker. So I mentally summoned a surge of superstrength and stood ready. "Doesn't Thewsike give you an expense account? Isn't it embarrassing to have to sleep in other people's motel rooms?" I said, realizing it wasn't the best wise-ass banter--but it was passable. "I... don't work with Polk Thewsike any more," the scarecrow said in a normal-sounding voice. "So why are you still wearing that stupid costume?" "It's not like that." "What is it like?" The scarecrow stood up and I got into my best battle stance. He held up his hand, though, and spoke. "I mean you no harm. I just want your help." "How the hell did you get here?" "This... panoply... has some amazing abilities. I could see you and your friend from a long ways off. You stood out like a blazing meteor in the vastness of Aconck. I see that your friend isn't an Overwhelm Primate though. And there's something else--a beast?" "Look buddy..." "My name is Carroll Mammock. Overwhelm probably has a sizable file on me." "Yeah well, I don't know about that. But why--why should I believe what you're saying?" "I don't know. Maybe it doesn't matter. Maybe once I explain my situation to you, it won't be necessary to trust me." I thought about that. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 22 SR-181 ============================== SRfi022--"Carroll Mammock" ============================== "Okay," I said. "I'll listen--but you have to give me your word that you're no longer connected to Thewsike and that you mean me no harm." "Easy to do," Carroll Mammock said. "I swear by my name that I am no longer associated with The Unreal Sixty-Four in any way, shape or form. I also swear that I mean you absolutely no harm." "Okay." "But for clarity's sake, I want to make it clear that two of my current allies are in the same jam as me--but are similarly disconnected from U-64. They are Anderson Prickwood and Nesmith Strake." "Uh-huh. What costumes are they?" "Uh... skeleton and phantom, respectively." "Okay," I said. "Let's just sit down calmly and you tell me what you need to tell me." "That is agreeable," the scarecrow said, looking behind him at the chair. "Let me just turn this chair around." "Cool." He swung the heavy chair around with consummate ease--definitely superstrong, he. I walked around the bed and sat on it, facing him. Carroll stared at me with his frightening burlap visage. I sensed great energy and presence from him. I made a mental note to keep on my toes--I had the sense he might be dangerous, regardless of what he swore to. "To start off, Prince Ferrajalt, this is not a costume. That's the idea we wanted to put into everyone's head, but it's not true. So I'm about to give you a valuable piece of intelligence." He laughed briefly then--an odd, wheezing noise. Then he continued. "You see, this is what we call a 'panoply'. It's a puppet body animated with Realistic Forces. The idea is that the operative's body remains at a central location, and he operates the panoply remotely. Thewsike's major discovery was that of dimension doors--but unfortunately, they couldn't get much bigger than a few centimeters across. To make a long story short, he was able to use this invention to build the panoply system. Thus, his sixty-four Perfect Unreal Agents could stay safe in his central base while carrying out all manner of missions. This is what I did." "Did?" I asked. "Yes. A month or so ago something happened. Reality fell apart, but only for a few seconds. Right afterward, it seemed like everything was okay, but things were subtly changed. Clocks were all screwed up. The phase of the moon was wrong. Colors of things were inexplicably different, people who should have been dead weren't anymore. And... my body was lost." "What do you mean?" "I mean, my human body became gone. It no longer exists." "So where are you operating the scarecrow from?" "I AM the scarecrow now." "Yeah?" "Yeah. And I'm not really thrilled about it." "Sorry." "Well, that's the way things went. But this is not specifically what I came to you for--though if you have any ideas on how I might regain myself, I'd be glad to hear them." I waved my arms and gave a befuddled look. "No matter," he said. "Let me get onto the matter at hand. As you may know, I have a sister, Coltish, who is part of Overwhelm Associates." "I've--heard of her. Never met her, though." "I see. Now as I said, I have greatly enhanced senses in this panoply--I can see things across the enormity of Aconck. And I can--even now--see my sister. But she's a long way off. I have no idea what sort of a place she's in." "I don't either." "But you can still help me, Prince. For I see an energy signature all over you--the signature of Edkay Delvibane--also one of your comrades." "Yeah?" "Yes. How is it you bear this signature?" "Um... Well I guess I may as well tell you. I am the new owner of the Greatcoat." "Aha!" "What?" "That's what I suspected." "So?" "So, that means you can help me." "How?" "Let's not get ahead of ourselves now. What is the last thing you heard about my sister?" "I--okay. I remember hearing a rumor that she was involved in some super secret mission back at Greatwall." "Yes?" "Yeah. But I mean, it was only a rumor." "Did the rumor include anything about the nature of the mission?" "Well," I said, wrinkling my nose as I considered how much to tell him, "it was pretty weird." "You're in a motel room talking to a scarecrow. That's weird too." I laughed a little. "Yeah. Well, I heard it from a real strange guy in our organization, but well--here it is. I heard they were gonna kill God and the Devil or something." "WHAT?" "Yeah. See, I told you it was weird." "Kill God? And the Devil?" "That's what I heard. Not that I believe it though." "Hmm..." the scarecrow said with what seemed to be a sigh. "This adds an interesting spice to the mix." "Yeah?" He nodded and sat silent. "So," I said. "Does that help you?" "Yes," he said. "And now--I have another question for you. You've been greatly cooperative so far and I appreciate it. If it seems like I'm pushing too hard, I apologize. But somewhere in these questions I may have a great reward to offer you." "Oh?" "Yes. So my question is... do you have time travel?" I furrowed my brow. "Why?" I asked. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 23 SR-182 ============================== SRfi023--"Yeeber AX-76" ============================== "I thought I may have seen it. And if you do--I have a very lucrative deal to offer you." "Uh-huh?" "Yes--I think you'd be quite happy with the whole thing. First though--I need to know." I regarded the fellow. Something told me to trust him, but something else told me to fear him. So much power... But I decided to gamble. "Yeah, we have it." The expressionless scarecrow face stared at me for a few moments, and I tried to fathom what he might be thinking about. "Good," he finally said. "Is it?" "It is. Now the thing I referred to before exists about 25 years ago in Peeferkihint City. Can you get there with your method of time travel?" "I don't think that would be a problem. Just what are we talking about here, though?" "Well Ferrajalt, it's not an easy thing to describe. I guess it's safe to say that it's a building with some remarkable attributes." "Like?" "Like the means to go just about anywhere." "Can't we already do that with bridging?" "Bridging is pitifully limited," Carroll said. "This building I refer to--it can take you anywhere." "Okay..." I said slowly. "So what we're talking about is what--going back and doing what? Getting the building somehow?" "Yes." "How?" He looked at me in silence again, making me more and more apprehensive. Finally, he spoke. "There is a man named Stone Beverly, who is, at some point in the past, dying alone in his home." "Yeah?" "Yeah. He holds the deed to the building." "So how do we get it from him?" "He was very lonely toward the end. I'm sure that if someone provided him companionship in those last months, he'd give that person the deed and the box." "Box?" "Yes, the box. Uh, let me know how you feel about all this so far, and I'll get into details about the box." "Well I don't know. I mean, the idea of being able to go anywhere instantly appeals to me, and would certainly help me in my personal quests. Who wouldn't be bolstered by such power?" Carroll nodded. "But you have to understand," Isaid, "my companion is the one in direct control of the time travel method." "What was her name?" "You're asking for a lot, Mammock! I just hope you're not playing me the fool. Who knows what I might do." "I understand your concern, Ferrajalt, but if you've read my file you should know that I'm not the sort to swear on my name falsely." I sighed. "Her name is Lunatether." "Nice name." "I like it." After another bit of silence, Carroll spoke again. "So now, the box. It contains, I believe, 890 multicolored keys. These correspond to 891 doors in the building. The building is called Deep Violt C, by the way." "Why the extra door?" "That's something I'd like to find out." "Uh-huh. So where is this building now?" "It was destroyed in a terrorist attack a few weeks after Stone Beverly died." "What sort of attack?" "False air traffic control transmissions caused an enormous Yeeber AX-76 to crash into it." "Jeez." "We'll have to prevent that from happening, too." "Shouldn't be too hard." "Not hard, but involved." "Hmm. So what about these keys and doors? They all lead somewhere?" "As I understand it, if you have a key and a virgin door, you can unlock it to lead anywhere you might desire. Once opened, however, the door will always lead to the same place." "How do you know all this?" "It's a long, drawn-out, tedious story. I don't feel like reconstructing it right now." "Fine." "Oh! I sense your friend--Lunatether--on her way back." "Good." "How do you think she'll react?" "Probably not too bad." He nodded. "But let me get this straight--" I said, "we provide this Stone guy with companionship for a few months and we get a shiny new interdimensional building?" "In a nutshell." "So what sort of companionship does this guy need? Sexual? Emotional? What?" "I imagine all of the above. Thing is, though, he's gay--so it'll have to be another man." "Don't look at me!" "I wasn't. I'm merely giving you the facts." "So what are we supposed to do? Just... just get some guy to go sleep with this other guy?" "Something along those lines." "And then what--when he gives the stuff to this loverboy--we'll just take it from him?" "I was hoping you might know somebody to play the role. But if you don't, we could just hire a local denizen--offer him so much money he couldn't refuse." "I don't think I'D do it for any amount of money." "Well you're rich--superrich--royalty. You don't count." "Yeah, go on. Everyone loves prince-bashing." "Don't take it like that." "Yeah, yeah." He laughed a little. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 24 SR-183 ============================== SRfi024--"Deep Violt C" ============================== "So do you see where I'm going with this?" Carroll said. "With access to Deep Violt C, I should be able to find Coltish--as well as seek out a solution to my own unique problem." "Yeah, I see. But tell me--how did this gay guy get the deed to an interdimensional building? I mean, what's going on there?" "Ferrajalt, even with my heavy senses, I couldn't make any sense of the insanely complex situations surrounding Stone Beverly." "I see. But this building--what's the deal with it? Who built it? If it's C, was there an A and a B Deep Violt, or whatever it's called?" "I assume." "And you were back in time to see all this?" "Not really." "So how then?" "There are places where many things become apparent." "Obviously this isn't one of them," I said, and Carroll laughed. "She's coming," he said, still laughing. I heard a knock on the door and got up. I looked through the peephole and saw the beautiful face of Lunatether--or was it the face of Hilltop Jone Rallity? Whatever, I opened the door a crack and looked at her. "We have a visitor," I said calmly. "He's kind of scary-looking and generally menacing, but I have the situation under control. So don't be surprised." I opened the door and Lunatether arched her neck to peer in before entering. She caught sight of Carroll and looked puzzled. "Why is there a scarecrow here?" "He's formerly of the Unreal Sixty-Four." "Ah--Carroll Mammock?" she said. "That's me," Carroll said. "Isn't he an enemy?" she asked, looking at me. "He certainly WAS at some point," I replied. "But he claims to no longer be associated with U-64. He's asked for our help, and made a very intriguing offer." "I see," she said, examining the scarecrow. It was strange--the way she was looking him over sort of reminded me of a mechanical scan--she still had a strong machine element to her personality. Huh. I wondered how she would feel if she heard that, heard that even though she wears a human body she's still at least part machine. "I'll explain it all to you if you wish," Carroll said. "Do," she replied, sitting down in the chair across from the scarecrow. "Knowing that any aggressive action will mean your death." "That is not an eventuality we need be concerned with," Carroll said, and I wondered if it referred to him attacking us or him dying. No matter. So he described the whole situation to Lunatether. "Okay..." she said once she had it all. "So if we decide to do this, we'll have to--what--go back and set up camp in Peeferkihint while we execute the plan?" "Yes," he said. "Since it will take a month or two, we should set something up in the city. I can see... you have a large quantity of gold in your vehicle outside. I imagine it should be sufficient to fund this adventure." "Yeah, yeah," she said. "But I'm still wary of just hiring some young hustler to provide Beverly companionship. Won't he get suspicious--decide to keep the deed and keys for himself?" "If he does," the scarecrow said, "he can run, but he can't hide. From me." "Huh," she said, then turned to me. "What about Walker Fantive and getting back to Overwhelm?" "I don't know," I said. "I've been thinking about it--we needed Overwhelm to get us back into the swing of things. If Carroll's plan really works, then we don't need 'em." "W... Walker Fantive?" Carroll said, looking distracted. "Primate?" "Yeah," I said. "I--I think I see him approaching." "What?!" I exclaimed. "He coming be air--some sort of cloaked personal flying machine," the scarecrow said. "Why?" Lunatether asked. "I don't know," I said. "But his probability antennas probably picked up that we weren't gonna make it to the base, so he's coming out to see why." "What should we do?" she asked. "Hold on--" I said. "How far is he?" "I--it's hard to say. He might get here as soon as five minutes. Could be longer, though." "I say we exit the situation," I said. "Carroll--are you ready to travel, no problem?" He nodded his head. "And your friends--Anderson and whoever--are they nearby?" "Uh--no," he said hesitantly. "So you can come 25 years ago with us?" "Uh--yes," he said. "That should be no problem." "What do you say?" I asked Lunatether. "She's tired," she said. "No way she can do 25 years tonight. I wouldn't do that to her. But maybe a couple of years--we can stay at this same motel, and then go the rest of the way tomorrow?" I looked at Carroll, who nodded slightly. "Okay," I said. "Too bad we're gonna lose the van." Carroll's head cocked slightly in curiosity. "You'll find out," I said. "Come on." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 25 SR-184 ============================== SRfi025--"Devastatingly Offbeat Life" ============================== So we all got up and went out to the van. Lunatether opened the back doors to reveal the dozing tock hound. The beast's nostrils flared and it opened its eyes. I was amazed at the look of love it gave Lunatether, and felt a pang of guilt about my own tock hound--the one I abandoned in the far past. "The beast is the means of transport?" Carroll asked. "That's about the size of it," I said. "Impressive," he replied. "So look guys," Lunatether said. "How far do we have to go?" "Can we go six or seven? I know there wasn't an Overwhelm base back then." She frowned and started rubbing Bandelion's head. "Whattaya say, girl?" The tock hound either purred or growled softly--couldn't tell which. "I think she can do it," Lunatether said gently, more to Bandelion than to us. "Alright," I said. "But let me leave a note for Walker--I mean, he's not the enemy after all." "Go ahead," Lunatether said, then turned to face Bandelion. "Come on girl. One more trip tonight." As the beast jumped out of the van and began to stretch, I ran into the motel room and found a pen and a pad of paper. On a dresser, I quickly scrawled "Walker--sorry but we took off. Maybe you'll see us sooner than you think though. Nothing against Overwhelm, just personal business. Best regards, Ferrajalt." I ripped the page off the pad and ran back to the van. Lunatether was already on the tock hound, and Carroll was in the process of jumping on. "Gonna be a tight squeeze!" I said as I placed the note on the driver's seat of the van. The scarecrow leapt onto Bandelion with supernatural ease. I really wondered where I was gonna sit. But we worked things out--I sat right behind Lunatether and Carroll grabbed onto me with those flimsy-seeming arms of his. Kinda scary. But we were all secure and we took off. The moment before everything began spinning around, I saw Walker Fantive and the motel employee staring at us from the lobby. I guess Lunatether saw Walker also, as she urged Bandelion to make a jump. She did, and it was instantly afternoon--probably earlier that day. So there I was--riding on a huge dog, travelling 25 years back in time with a scarecrow and a clone with a computer's mind. A clone who I think I loved. Such freedom, such danger, such abandon--I let my spirit go and reveled in the craziness around me. I finally felt totally good about my devastatingly offbeat life. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 26 SR-185 ============================== SRfi026--"Graft" ============================== Posing a newlyweds, Lunatether and me were looking for a place to live. We got to Peeferkihint earlier in the day--we tried to make the final jump to a time of day near our biological clocks, and got pretty close. After getting away from Walker Fantive, we made a short journey about nine years into the past, and stayed at the same motel we'd been in before all the business with Carroll Mammock. While Lunatether and I slept, Carroll accompanied the tock hound to a nearby abandoned lot, so that the beast could get some well-deserved rest. After a good night's sleep, we continued the rest of the way back, the rest of the 25 years. Once we were at the right time, we still had to go through the hassle of selling some gold and buying another motor vehicle. It wasn't too hard--we told the guy we'd take 50% the going rate in exchange for no questions. It took another few hours to buy a truck. Again, we had to bribe the salesman to sell us the truck--he was insisting to see some identification. But we got it. The drive to Peeferkihint took the rest of the day, so we stayed in a hotel in the outskirts of Peeferkihint--a hell of a lot nicer than that horrible little motel. We got a big room, a suite maybe, and Bandelion came into the hotel with us. Carroll also stayed in the suite--there was like a bedroom and a living room kind of setup. I was uneasy sleeping,l knowing that Carroll was in the other room, but the strain of all the time travel helped me attain slumber in minutes. So we were with this real estate agent, looking at a cool place--a building with living quarters, an office, and a warehouse--mostly furnished. It was $30,000. I figured it was a lock--perfect for our purposes, and I had the cash on me. So I had the real estate chick wait outside while I talked to Lunatether. She loved the place, so I called the woman back in. "Okay, we want it." "Great! Now we have to go through a mountain of paperwork, schedule the closing, I'll contact the board, the city inspector will need to give us a certificate, there are a bunch of applications to--" "No," I said. "Huh." "No. We want this place NOW. We want to move in NOW." "That's impossible." "Yeah? Let me tell you--some things are impossible, but a thing like this--no. It's possible." "I don't think so, Mr. Ferrajalt, uh..." "This is the sort of thing we can make happen with money. All you have to do is tell me how much you need." "I don't--I mean, it's not..." But I could see the little wheels start to turn in her head. "You see what I mean," I said. "With the right amount of money, it can all be done without any more bother to me and my lovely wife here." I put my arm around Lunatether and pulled her to me. My "bride" smiled. "Well--I see your point Mr. Ferrajalt. But we'd be talking about a lot more than $30,000." "Sixty," I said. "Plus another ten for you when it's all settled." She was nonplused. "S-sixty?" "That's right. Cash. Right here. Right now. And the additional ten later." She stared at me, and I could see she was trembling. "I hope this isn't any sort of a trick." "You agree, and you'll see in about two minutes whether it's a trick or not." "O-okay, Mr. Ferrajalt. I accept. But remember, there may be certain... forces... beyond my control." "You need more than sixty." She bit her lip. I had a pretty good handle on graft. And I knew it'd be more than enough money for this sort of thing. "No... sixty should just about do it." "Just about," I said. "Come on." She followed me outside to the truck, and I went in. "Gimme a minute," I said. Soon I got out of the truck and handed her $60,000 in cash. She gulped. "Heh heh. What if I just run off with this." I stared at her. She said it jokingly, but I knew she sought some sort of information regarding how potentially dangerous this deal might be. "You lose the extra $10,000. Oh, and also you die a horrible death." She looked at me with a sly smile. "Guess I won't then." I smiled back at her. "Another part of the deal?" I said. "No more questions." "Just one more. So I can sleep at night. This isn't blood money..." "I give you my word it isn't." "Good," she said with a sigh. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 27 SR-186 ============================== SRfi027--"Godlike Like Me" ============================== Damn if Lunatether isn't full of surprises! Our first night in Deep Violt, Jr. (as we dubbed the place, ha ha) I was joking with her about running out of money, even though we had a bunch of gold left. She smiled and told me coyly how getting more gold would be no problem. I asked her why, and she blushed as she told me she had a matter handler that had once been within her. One of her potential daughters. Ludrashay's sister. All she needed to do was activate it and WHAM, we got a Stormbolthouse again. She even said she'd been talking to Litrainlace, as the embryonic Stormbolthouse was named. Scary. "But," I said, "if you weave her, then how can she time travel?" "She can't. Not on a tock hound. And I don't know any other way." "Huh. So what--all of your names start with L?" "That's the way everything was set up. Yes. All the names are L-starting." "Hmm," I said, nodding. Lunatether and I had a little suite of living quarters, and there were two other suites. Carroll took one for himself, and Bandelion was satisfied with her own little corner of the warehouse. It was an interesting time period we were in. The new generation rejecting tradition in a big way. Cool art, cool music, much conflict. I felt kind of bad with my smug, knowing attitude about all of it. There was such... an innocence in everyone here. Huh. I thought about my home often. Shit, I could have been back to Engiondofer Castle by now, if not for this idiotic quest. I'd have reconnoitered with Overwhelm, and had someone take me back. I'd be back in the castle, weathering the fallout of my abandonment. The press and the people would want answers. If I told them the truth, the big story would be that I flipped out. Lost my mind. No good. So I'd have to come up with some elaborate lie. A lie that would make me look good. If this building is true--if Deep Violt C can take you anywhere, the first place I'll go is home. Man, with the power I have--the power I can acquire from my supernatural connections--jeez, I could take over the world and then some. Take over many worlds. Conquest. In my genes. Feels good. Deep Violt, Jr. was a really cool place. The living quarters me and Lunatether were in were really well-designed and well-lit. Comfortable. I knew we'd be making love soon. And I felt horrible that all I could think of was Hilltop Jone Rallity. Lunatether had the body, but she didn't have the spark. I wanted to fuck Hilltop in Hilltop's body. Not Lunatether. But I feathered my nest with this foolishness, no sense breaking the poor machine's heart. How goddamn stupid, the whole thing. You'd think I could be happy with great sex every night. Yeah, Lunatether was real good. Maybe too good. She just went right at it. All the moves were right, but there was no texture to it. She was flat. I feel sorry to say that, but it's the truth. It's what I'm experiencing every night now. Deep Violt C. It can take me right back to Hilltop. Yup. It can take me away from Lunatether. She can go to a me who loves her fully, a me who never thinks of the real Hilltop. Damn, but I know I could make love to the real Hilltop so good now--I was getting to know her body and her sexual response so well. I could break her wall of ice. And I swore to myself I would. Right at that moment Lunatether walked in, and I felt sick at myself. Real bad. But I hid it. Taking Deep Violt C to another Deep Violt--yeah. To anywhere, Carroll said. Could it realize anything you could imagine? Maybe, but my time with Overwhelm taught me a lot about "be careful what you wish for, you just might get it"--I knew that a person's experience of something was based on both his position and his surroundings. If you're stuck in a boring little job in a boring little place, it won't take much to thrill you. Godlike like me, you need a lot more. And if ya Deep Violt yerself, ferget it. Yer screwed. Doing it with Lunatether I forgot about a lot. I could get lost in her. Like getting lost in the corridors of her when she was a Stormbolthouse. To think, I never knew of her longings for me, and there I was, inside of her, fucking android bodies she controlled. Insensitive? How was I to know a machine could have feelings. Or--is she truly still an automaton, just programmed to act like she has feelings? An image of a person in a movie can seem to have feelings, but it's just film and light and screen. It's programmed. Was Lunatether aware? She seemed to be. But she also seemed like a machine. Oh, just let go, bury myself in her, hide from the painful presence of Hilltop Jone Rallity in my soul. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 28 SR-187 ============================== SRfi028--"Stone Beverly" ============================== What a day. While Carroll and Lunatether basically just hung out, I was roaming the worst sections of Peeferkihint, supposedly in search of a gay prostitute to help us in our bid for Deep Violt C. We had a meeting about it the night before, and it was decided it had to be me because I was the only human male of the three. I protested that Carroll was also a human male, just one in a scarecrow body. But no--they said I'd have to gain the trust of this person we were seeking. Great. As I wandered the back alleys I thought how I could have been home by now, back at the castle. Not here, not on these grimy streets, seeking out even grimier establishments. Yeah, I could be home. But maybe, just maybe, Deep Violt C was worth it. Anyway, the day wound up a total bust. I don't even know what sort of places I was in. Drugs, dark perversions, crimes, all that. But no one near the sort of person we were looking for. A guy who would befriend this Stone Beverly, seduce him I guess, and then hopefully get the keys to Deep Violt C on Beverly's death bed. Then he'd turn the keys and deed over to us. Great. Yeah, after that first day, I told Lunatether she'd have to make a go at it the next day--I was dropping out. She said she would--that she had a new idea--to visit colleges and universities--where young people would do just about anything for money. I told her to go for it. I did find some cool stuff that day, though. Like this place--it used to be a bus depot, but now it was this bookstore, coffee shop, gaming area. Apparently there used to be a tunnel which extended all the way from there to the airport--at least ten miles--where they'd shuttle people back and forth. Now, there was a weird art exhibit in there. It was all dark, and there were these little displays lit up every few hundred yards, so you were there with the display, and there was nothing but darkness otherwise. Pretty neat. I don't know. One thing for sure though--my Overwhelm superstrength was in total mesh with me. That is, it was connected with my body's energy systems, and could totally recharge itself on my power, without any recharging sessions. Huh. I know they said that it was possible for this to happen--pretty lucky it happened to me. Superstrength means that nothing can hurt you--you can go anywhere, do anything, say anything, and you won't be injured, imprisoned, delayed, or anything. It's a nice feeling of security. But it does take the edge off of things. Danger makes excitement. I was lying on the bed in our room in Deep Violt Junior. Lunatether was exercising--she said she knew exactly what had to be done to keep her human body in peak condition. Huh. She always talked about her human body like it was a car or something. Which, I guess, it kind of was to her. "So what are you gonna do exactly tomorrow?" I asked. "Oh, a bunch of things," Lunatether said, huffing and puffing as she arched her body left, then right, then left again, and so on. "The bottom line is, we are offering an amount of money that will blow these college students away. All we gotta do is find one man willing to do anything for money." "You mean, willing to sleep with another man." "There are plenty of gay college students. It's more than that," she said. "He has to be trustworthy. And smart. He'll have to know that he plays by our rules, nothing less." "Yeah?" "Yeah. I'm sure I'll find someone. Mr. Beverly should be less suspicious with an innocent, as opposed to the sort of people you met up with today." "Huh? Why'd you make me do it then? If you didn't want them?" "I didn't know. I thought there might have been enclaves of people just dying for the sort of opportunity we could offer them." "Yeah," I said. "Now we know. Talk about lost souls..." "Leave it to me, Prince. I'll find our mind. It's just like a chess game. You force people into making a decision, and either way, you win." "That's nice," I said sarcastically, and I got to thinking. "Kind of reminds me of that book I read, from the Warhomes. You know, The Aleche Degrasion." She stopped exercising and stared at me. "The Warhomes?" "Yeah. In the library. All those books were in you, too, right?" "Yeah." "Well this one, The Aleche Degrasion--I told you about it--how I had it with me when I crashed on an island in Daptin's Land with Treyess Arcomany?" "You told me about it briefly. How you and Treyess were lovers, and how that evil woman, Red Archer Booze, came out of a cloak and seduced both of you with her bottle of aphrodisiac." "Yeah," I said, musing on the times the three of us spent in pleasure. Pretty intense memories--almost as intense as when I blew Booze's head off. Too bad Daptin had to bring her back to life. But those memories, that sex... -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 29 SR-188 ============================== SRfi029--"Future Organization of the Fire Teapot Hegemony" ============================== "What was the book about?" Lunatether asked. "Well," I said, sitting up on the bed, "It's about this guy Poale. He's raised in the mountains of this distant land--his parents were visiting for some unknown reason, but they died. So these monks of an ancient mythology took him in and taught him their ways. And he was a natural. In fact, if he'd been just a little bit better, they'd have declared him the rebirth of God or something." "Huh," Lunatether said, and she plopped down on the bed next to me, the sweet, pungent scent of her sweat exciting me. "Yeah, so anyway, this guy Poale was so pure, so high, that he could do all this amazing stuff. Like, they had this idea that each of us is both male AND female--and if you were pure and focused enough, you could shift back and forth as easily as opening and closing your eyes. Poale could do this, and in both forms, he was... they said he was very beautiful." "Yeah?" "Yeah. And... and he could talk to animals and plants--especially trees. He could FEEL all the life and energy around him. He was just so sensitive to anything--he was on the brink of infinity." "What was it that made him not be a god?" "I forget. Something about the time of his birth, his lack of ability to speak with planets, his susceptibility to certain forms of spirit dust, you know. Some very minor things." "Uh-huh." "Anyway, this weird organization, FOFTH, the, uh, Future Organization of the Fire Teapot Hegemony, they, uh, they contact Poale and his fellow monks, and they send him on this mission to a faraway country where a new hedonistic occult drug music lifestyle is taking over. And he's convinced by his teachers that he should do this. So he goes there, and the thing is, it's pretty cool, he has to infiltrate the organization both as his male self, Poale, AND his female self, which is named Finfora." "Two names?" "Yeah. The monks came up with it. Anyway, he goes over there, and a lot of the books is about how he slowly starts to get more and more sucked into the lifestyle, which is called Aleche. And what happens is, his female self gets much farther into the center of this, you know, what sort of turns out to be a cult of sorts. But he finds that as Finfora, he's more vulnerable to the temptations of sex, drugs, and everything else." "So what happens?" "Well, a lot of stuff. I don't want to ruin it for you. But as Poale, he resist the temptations and never really gets too far into Aleche. In fact, at one point, they all want to kill him. There's a lot of fighting and stuff, from all these weird groups. But the thing is, the same people he's fighting as Poale, he's in real good with as Finfora. The thing is, Finfora starts to succumb to her earthly desires, and she begins to fall in love with a young innocent." "So this Poale/Finfora person was a virgin?" "Yeah. He was like, just totally playful and asexual. As both sexes, people lusted after him, but he just accepted it and passed no judgment. He was bright and airy and happy and everything--but definitely not very emotional, at least at a human level." "So he--she rather--falls in love?" "Yeah. It's this guy named Bally. He's very naive and innocent and good himself--but he falls hopelessly in love with Finfora. She gets close to him because of his purity, because she feels comfortable with him." "Sound like a good story." "It is! So, uh, what happens eventually is that Finfora winds up getting totally wasted on drugs with Bally, and he... he takes her virginity." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 30 SR-189 ============================== SRfi030--"Finfora" ============================== "Wow. This sounds like one confused person," Lunather said. "He is. It's like, as Poale he likes girls, but as Finfora he likes guys. It's like--the longer he goes into the mission, the bigger the gap gets between his male and female halves. It gets to the point where he thinks he'll have to choose between them, but he can't. Once he loses his virginity as a female however--as Finfora--his whole thing falls apart. He can't switch sexes anymore, so he's stuck as Finfora forever. His supersenses and his other abilities are also shut down--she says--Finfora that is--says that it was like a huge, dark curtain fell all around her, as her pure state collapsed." "Huh." "So her and Bally now get further and further into the hedonism of Aleche. And the thing is, she finds out that FOFTH, which was basically in control of the entire world, sent her on the mission not to try and stamp out Aleche, but because her--Poale--whatever--was getting too powerful, and they wanted to get rid of the threat he/she posed. They knew that with all the constant shifting between male and female, and all the earthly temptations, that Poale would eventually succumb, and he did. As a she." "How'd... SHE find this out?" "Her FOFTH contact just came out and told her. Said there wasn't anything she could do to return to her former state of glory, and that now that she was harmless, FOFTH would help her any way they could. And she was just... she couldn't deal with what had happened to her, so she just got into Aleche more and more, corrupting and destroying Bally eventually, till she became pretty much the high priestess of Aleche, completing her fall from grace." "Wow." "Yeah. From a frolicking mountain demigod to a spacey, corrupt cult leader. And the thing is--the FOFTH plot was even more tangled--cuz with Finfora at the helm of Aleche, eventually, they had what was essentially a puppet government in the Aleche cult. So they got everything they wanted." "Wow. And this was the book you just randomly chose?" "Yeah, kinda. I mean, I heard stuff about it while I was on the Derolbam Team--there was a movie and stuff, but I never saw it. I know it was considered a classic, and that a lot of troubled young people loved to read it. I guess they saw a mirror of their own fall from the innocence of childhood in it." "Yeah..." Lunatether said distantly. "I never had one of those. A childhood..." Ferrajalt regarded the woman. "How far back do your memories go?" Lunatether frowned and squirmed a little. "I don't know. I remember when you activated my matter handler, but--I have the impression that I was conscious the whole time. Just sort of in a sleepy, dreamy state. And... there was some stuff before that, but I can't tell if it was real or dream, but it has to do with Injure Bodoni and Ann Saply creating Leitmotif out of the Warhome matter handler. Scary visions, unspeakable powers..." Ferrajalt put his arm around Lunatether. "So--where did... you know, where did your MIND come from, your... your CONSCIOUSNESS? I mean, as I understand it, the spirit enters the body at the moment of birth. But..." Lunatether turned to Ferrajalt and he could see tears in her eyes. "You're trying to say that I'm still just a machine, aren't you? That I could never animate this body like a real woman." Ferrajalt was taken aback. "N-no!" he said, pulling her to him. "Come on! The thought never crossed my mind! If anything, Hilltop was the one who acted like a machine. You, you're a warm, wonderful woman. I was just... I was just wondering. On a cosmic level. Come on." He kissed her and she grasped him hard, as if holding on for dear life. It only made him feel worse for the lies. He did feel she was still a machine, nowhere near being Hilltop. But he couldn't--he couldn't crush this poor machine's fragile grasp on happiness. Even though he knew that someday, he would. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 31 SR-190 ============================== SRfi031--"Whale" ============================== Prince Ferrajalt awoke with a shocking buzz in his mind. It was dark in his room in Deep Violt Junior, and Lunatether was in a deep sleep beside him. His eyes were wide open, and his brain was trying to grasp the nature of the mental shockwave now assaulting him. It was a plaintive, crying, primal signal. He shook his head, but he couldn't diminish the intensity of the wave. He took a deep breath and sat up, being careful not to wake up Lunatether. He closed his eyes and shook his head again, but it was no use. Then he got a strong feeling that whatever was doing this to him was outside. He stared at the window and then over at the clock. 3:40 AM. Then he quietly slipped out of bed, and as he did, he summoned forth some superstrength, just in case. Naked, he threw on some sweat pants and a T-shirt and then carefully approached the window. Looking to the street below, he saw it. Whale. Whale! His tock hound--little Whale--all grown up now. He locked eyes with the beast and he was overcome with emotion. The animal looked so happy to see him--happy enough to cry tears of joy if it were able. And Ferrajalt realized that since Whale was imprinted with him, he could serve no other. It seemed so pathetic and heart-wrenching-the poor dog wandering the streams of time seeking his long-lost master. The psychic pressure vanished, and was filled with an urgent sort of suggestion to go travel through time. He smiled. But then--what if Whale had come along with Hilltop Jone Rallity and her tock hound, Jilt? The adrenaline surged, and Ferrajalt felt a lump in his throat. The prospect of seeing Hilltop again... He looked over at Lunatether and felt so confused--would he now abandon her, as he did Hilltop before? Or--he wasn't romantically involved with Hilltop, so... And then he thought of Martha, his secret girlfriend at the Hay-Hengren Seaside back home. Something about her--no--wait a second. Something about her, similar to... to Lunatether. In personality... the way she walked... talked... No. No way. Lunatether was Martha? If Ferrajalt left Lunatether now, would she really seek him out in the past and try to get him that way? He narrowed his eyes as he glared at Lunatether's snoozing form. Yes. It seemed to ring true. And the more he thought about it, the more it clicked. The Martha of his past was this Lunatether in the future. He was sure of it. He looked back at Whale and tried to psychically inform the beast that he'd be down soon. He set about silently getting dressed, and he thought--Whale and Lunatether, two artificial constructs questing after his affections through time and space. Should he have to put up with all this? "Is anything wrong?" Lunatether suddenly said. He froze. "No," he said. Then, "Yes." "What is it?" she said groggily. He hesitated, then said "Whale has come for me." Lunatether sat up in the bed and frowned. "Yeah?" "Yeah." She looked him in the eyes and could tell immediately that something was wrong. "What is it?" she asked in a tone of dread. "Does the name... does the name Martha mean anything to you?" She bit her lip and looked down. "I guess it had to happen sooner or later," she said. "What?" "That you'd figure it out." "Figure what out?" She looked at him with those wide Hilltop eyes. "That I was Martha Henruletta." "What?" Ferrajalt said tersely. "I thought you just said if Martha meant..." "I did--it's just... I don't know." "What?" "I thought it was... I don't know. I mean, I thought it was something that would happen in the FUTURE, cuz..." "...you were planning on leaving me tonight." She said those words very mechanically, but tears started to well up in her eyes. And Ferrajalt, himself, began to cry also. He threw down the pants he'd been having trouble getting on and went to Lunatether, taking her in his arms. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 32 SR-191 ============================== SRfi032--"Me As Martha" ============================== "Yes," Ferrajalt said, through his tears. "I want to tell you the truth. I was thinking of going." Lunatether burst into uncontrollable bawling, and she squeezed Ferrajalt as tight as she could. "I... I... I've never felt... so human..." Lunatether said. "I love you... thank you so much for helping me be human..." Ferrajalt felt horrible. Just a few minutes earlier, he was thinking of just abandoning this precious lover. How could he? How could he. After a little while. They both started sniffling, and Ferrajalt held Lunatether by her upper arms. "Look at me, Luna." She did. "I want to go home. I just... I can't get it out of my mind. What must be happening there. I have to go back." "Can't you wait for when we get Deep Violt C?" "I... that's gonna take weeks--months! I can't wait. Look--now that Whale is here I was... I think I might want to go back to the future and get to Walker Fantive. He can get me home." Lunatether's expression turned from tired to angry. "Wait a minute. If Whale is here, then Rallity can't be far behind!" "I thought of that," he said. She narrowed her eyes. "You love her and not me." "That's not true." "I think it is. I know what signs to look for to read people's emotions and detect lies. I've known for a long time, but I've been in denial. I always thought that with her body, I could make you love me. Now I see that that's impossible. I'll never be anything more than a machine to you." "Luna, that's now true!" Ferrajalt said, then he laughed a little, since Lunatether was giving him a "truth-detection" glare. "Come on! It's not!" "Ferrajalt, I love you. What I did at Hay-Hengren--I did it to get to know you better. You're a very complex person, but I think I know you. And the one thing you want more than anything, deep, deep down, is to be king." "That's not true." "And the reason you want to go back--you don't want to jeopardize your succession." "No." "And another thing, Prince--you can't face the truth." "That's not..." "I thought I could change you. But I guess it's a lost cause." "No!" "When you made love to me as Martha--you were making love to Hilltop's body, you know." "What!?" "The garter I wore--the yellow one? It was a disguise mesver. It made me look different, but I had the Hilltop body all along." "Huh?" "Let me show you." She leaned over and rummaged around inside a knapsack on the floor next to the bed. Soon, she got back up and showed Ferrajalt the garter. "Now watch." She put the garter on, and in a matter of seconds her form blurred and shuddered, only to come back into stability and focus as Martha Henruletta. "I'll be damned..." Ferrajalt said. "I don't want to be a princess--I just want to show you love," Lunatether said in a mocking way. Ferrajalt shook his head. "I don't know about any of this." "This what?" "All this... all these choices..." "Tell you what," Lunatether said, removing the garter and returning to her normal appearance, "I'll take you up on your previous offer. Go home with Whale. Me and Carroll can carry out the plot. And once we get the deed and keys, the first door I open will be to your quarters in the castle." Ferrajalt nodded thoughtfully. "Okay." "But may I ask one more thing of you?" "What." "Make love to me once more, before you go?" "Now?" "I want to remember it--remember YOU--as accurately as possible." "Well, I GUESS I could do it..." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 33 SR-192 ============================== SRfi033--"God's Blink" ============================== Later... "Prince Ferrajalt to see you," the receptionist said into the intercom. "Tell him to come in," Walker Fantive replied. "You can go in," the receptionist said, staring at Ferrajalt. She wore so much makeup it was hard to tell if she was actually pretty or ugly. "I heard," Ferrajalt said, passing by the woman and opening a huge, thick wooden door with some effort. "Prince..." Walker said, standing up, as if readying himself for any eventuality. "Hi Walker," Ferrajalt said, advancing toward Walker's desk. It was a beautiful office--full of lush furniture and plant life. There was even a fireplace with a roaring fire on one side of the room. "Have... have a seat, won't you," Walker said, wearing a worried and stressed-out expression. He was a tall man with a neatly trimmed black beard and mustache. He wore his hair in a trendy, feathered kind of way. He had on a dark blue suit, with that life-vest-looking thing that was part and parcel of conservative business wear on this Earth. He had an aura of confidence and power, and also wore glasses. "Sure." Walker sat back down as well, and he clasped his hands in front of him, resting them on his desk. He stared right at Ferrajalt with his very blue eyes. "What's going on?" he said, with a sense of urgency, cutting through the bullshit. "Um... it's kind of a long, drawn-out, complex story. I don't even know if I can tell you all of it." Walker sighed. "Okay. So let's start at the beginning. First off, what is your personal condition?" "Me? I'm fine. I feel pretty good in fact." "Good. Now... an incident occurred at our Derolbam Base about a month ago. This is classified information by the way--you understand that." Ferrajalt nodded. "Fine," Walker continued. "Now you were stationed at Derolbam at the time of the incident." Ferrajalt nodded again, slowly. "What happened was, we experienced a severe reality distortion systemwide. But it was especially bad on Timber Serious." Ferrajalt raised his eyebrows and made a tense smile. "What do you know about this, Prince?" "Um... from what I understand, reality collapsed." "Yes?" "Yeah. We all wound up in this weird, deserted version of the world. Injure Bodoni knew the most about what was going on. After all this stuff happened, we figured out that we had to destroy this certain building, so we--this is gonna sound really strange--we dragged an ocean liner down the river and let it fly over the bay. We had to do it to bring reality back." "What do you mean by that?" "Injure tested it--destroying the building--and it showed that it would work. It would bring reality, uh... back." Walker leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath. "Let me share something with you. On Timber Serious, right at the moment of the disturbance, an ocean liner disappeared from Derolbam and reappeared immediately many miles away in Doscovor, in the ruins of an office building--which had been fine a moment earlier. There was massive damage all over the area, as well. It all happened in the same instant. The locals call it 'God's Blink'." "Huh." "Now hearing what you're telling me... Oh, so what about the others?" "Most of them disappeared--only a few of us were left." "Look at this list," Walker said, handing Ferrajalt a piece of paper. "How many of these operatives survived?" Ferrajalt scanned the list. "Um... this looks like all of us who made it. Yup." "Okay. Now Prince... do you mind telling me what the hell happened last night? Where are Mammock and the one posing as Rallity?" "What do you mean?" "That wasn't Hilltop Jone Rallity with you." "It wasn't?" Walker smiled and took a cigar out of the ornate humidor on his desk. "Ferrajalt--you're a terrible liar," Walker said, examining the cigar and then staring at Ferrajalt. "Yeah?" "Yeah. I'm not so concerned with the impostor. What I'm really concerned with is the other operative I saw you with." "Look Walker--I know it looks bad..." "It does." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 34 SR-193 ============================== SRfi034--"Mitigating & Pree" ============================== "Okay--okay, chill out," Ferrajalt said with gesticulation. "First of all, HE found US. Also, he SWORE that he was no longer associated with the Unreal 64." "I find that impossible to believe." "Why?" "Because he was still operating his U-64 Panoply!" "He explained that." "How." "He said that when reality crashed, he became, like, merged with the puppet body or something. He said his original body was just... gone." "Hmm... very interesting." "Why?" "Let's not concern ourselves with that now." "You don't trust me?" Ferrajalt said. "I'm freely giving you some great information. Don't you think it'd be fair to play the same way?" "No." "Okay, let's put it this way--you tell me what I want to know, and I'll tell you what you want to know." "That's no way for an operative to speak to an administrator." "I could say that THAT is no way for a commoner to speak to royalty!" Walker cut off the tip of the cigar and held the cigar between his index and middle fingers. "Ferrajalt," he said in a distracted way, starting to light the cigar. "Do you still consider yourself an operative of Overwhelm Associates?" "I don't know," he said after a pause. Walker lit the cigar and started puffing it. Then he looked into Ferrajalt's eyes. "You think I know what I'm doing here? I'm not getting much in the way of guidance from Greatwall, in how to deal with the aftermath of this Realistic Blink. Our whole system has suffered tremendously. We're on the brink of not even BEING a system anymore. Can you grasp that?" "I guess." Walker smiled and looked down at a paper on his desk. "What?" Ferrajalt said. Walker chuckled. "You said you wanted information. Huh. Well I think you'll find this very interesting indeed." He spoke slowly, since he was reading from the page as he spoke. "What is it?" "Here," Walker said, handing the sheet over to Ferrajalt. "It's from your file. Surveillance on how your royal family is hiding the fact that you've run away. "WHAT?" "Oh yes. Quite a tangled web, I'm sure you'll agree." Ferrajalt read the paper. It said that a popular children's television show, "Mitigating & Pree", had hired Ferrajalt as their "environmental corespondent". The idea was that he would travel to various untamed wildernesses around the world, and send back letters about how mankind was destroying the forests and stuff. He stared at the picture of Mitigating and Pree. Mitigating was a huge hairy beast--an Awawnoc. He stood over eight feet tall, had wild brown fur, and two tusks coming up from his jaw--one full and one broken. Pree towered over him. She was a giantess who stood no less than eleven-foot-four. Ferrajalt's eyes narrowed. Man was she hot. She was perfectly proportioned... if she were human, she might have stood a little over five feet tall. But she was huge... Instantly, Ferrajalt started to get aroused. He'd always had a fantasy of making love to a giantess, and Pree was just about the most beautiful giantess he had ever laid eyes on. In that moment, he wanted more than anything to be having sex with her. The short, prim and bright auburn hair, the olde times ribaldry singing and dancing and drunken splendor clothing, those lips, those breasts... He'd been aware of the "Mitigating & Pree" TV show for some time before he left his Earth, but he never watched it. Now... "What the hell is this?" Ferrajalt said angrily. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CHAPTER 35 SR-194 ============================== SRfi035--"Deception 101" ============================== Walker laughed. "Looks like your queen mommy has been burning the midnight scheming oil, huh? I tellya--what a plan--being in such remote locations that no remote feed or even battery-operated equipment was possible. I think she's writing your letters, if our intelligence is accurate." Ferrajalt frowned in anger. "That's a pretty great thing you got on that Earth of yours," Walker said. "Giant people. We got some on other Earths but their giants are really ugly. Only your Earth has beautiful giants. I guess Pree the gentle giantess is a big hit with kids on your world." "You can say that again." "Yeah?" Ferrajalt looked up from tha page and stared into the roaring fire. "What's the matter, Prince?" "I don't know. I knew they were gonna do something to explain my... my disappearance. But this?" He tossed the paper back at Walker. The administrator regarded Ferrajalt, with the hint of a smile. "I'm travelling to Greatwall this afternoon. I know we have a lot more to discuss, and I suggest we do it on the way. It's a long trip." "I really wanted to just get home." "You'll have to go back through Greatwall anyway." Ferrajalt grimaced. "I guess you're right." "Will you be ready to go at about two?" "Yeah," Ferrajalt said. "But... oh, shit." The Prince made a gesture of great frustration. "What?" "I have something with me, and I don't think I can leave it here." "What would that be?" "I don't know if I should tell you." "Ferrajalt, when someone says they don't know if they should say something, it means they want to but just need a little reassurance. Deception 101." "Huh?" "Look--I'll use some strategies on you and you'll come around. Now think about it. You've told me so much already, what's a little more gonna matter? I'll find out eventually anyway. You'll feel better when you tell me. You better tell me now, because if you wait, the memory of it might fade. Tell me and I'll help keep the memory alive. If I'm not your enemy then I'm your ally--and you're only helping your enemies by withholding information from your allies. What's information, anyway? Just a bunch of words. How much harm can words do?" He paused, then continued, with a smile. "Tell me and I'll be your best friend." "I get your point," Ferrajalt said. "I learned all that stuff too. Gotta know it if you're royalty. I'll tell you what you need to know." "Good." "Um... the other night... you know, when you saw us..." "On that large dog?" "Yeah." "You have that dog with you?" "No! Not that dog. But, uh, another one. Um, of the same species and everything." "Wherever did you find giant time travelling dogs?" "Huh?" "So I'm right!" "What do you mean?" "All the clues pointed toward time travel. The strange readings on the scanner. Your note. The condition of the motel." "Yeah, I guess that's it. Time travel and all." "You know that NO ONE in Aconck has time travel yet, right?" "I guess." "But now WE have it." "Whattaya mean WE?" "Not Overwhelm, if that's what you're thinking. Look Prince--I've been looking for a way to break away from Overwhelm for quite a while now. With these time travelling beasts of yours, just think of what we could accomplish!" Ferrajalt got that sinking feeling. He didn't want Fantive involved in all this. "Look--let's just discuss it on our way to Greatwall," Ferrajalt said. "Fine with me. Now tell you what--we'll take one of the cargo flyers so that your steed may accompany us." "I..." Ferrajalt began, but he waved the thought away. If he brought Whale to Greatwall, then he'd have to get Whale back HERE to go back to Lunatether if the whole Deep Violt C thing was a no go. But still--if he could get Whale back to HIS Earth, he could time travel there, which could be rather intriguing. His family had quite a notorious history--be nice if he could experience some of it. "Prince," Walker said, "I think we have big things in store for us." "Yup," Ferrajalt said, nodding nervously. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 17: FOREMAN ITTENER PIER CUPLINE'S END ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 18: A ROAD MAP OF ARCTICA 25 Chapters--SR-195 thru SR-219 ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 18: A ROAD MAP OF ARCTICA CHAPTER 1 SR-195 ============================== SRrm001--"Daptin as a Kid" ============================== "Mom, I'm really worried about this." "Daptin, always remember, it's better to face reality than to hide from it. If you have this... if you have something wrong with you, the worst thing is to hide from it. Come on, kiddo! We're gonna get to the bottom of things and find out where things stand. We're gonna face reality. And then... then we'll accept the way things are and go from there." "I don't wanna face reality." "Let me put it this way, Daptin. Imagine you're sitting on the railroad tracks, and you're really tired and enjoying the rest. Then you hear a train coming. You wish the train wasn't coming, so that you can rest some more, so you pretend that the sound of the train is just your imagination... or that it's on another track... or something. But no matter how much you evade the truth, if you don't accept the reality of the situation, you're going to be killed by that train! So the sooner you face reality the better!" "But Mom, I'm only fifteen! My life is just beginning. I don't want to die!" She moved her hand from the steering wheel of her car to Daptin's shoulder. "Come on, son. Lidrainen is the best doctor in Arctica for this kind of... condition. If anyone can help you, it's him." Daptin broke out into tears. "It's just... I was finally having a good time in school... I have some... some really great friends... and... and I just started going out with Phaetha..." Tears came to the eyes of Olga Gone as she gripped her son's shoulder harder. "Daptin... I'm not going to let you go... I've been by your side for fifteen years, and I'm not about to let go now." "But mom... if it is true... if I am going to die... there's nothing you or anyone else can do to save me..." "Never give up! We can never give up! There are medical breakthroughs all the time, honey!" "And there are people dying before their time all the time, too!" Soon... "Daptin Gone..." said Dr. Ponce Lidrainen, leaning out of his office door. He was a tall, good-looking man with green hair just like Daptin's. Slowly, Daptin and his mother rose from the couch they were spending their agonizing wait on. With effort, they entered the doctor's office. He closed the door behind him. "Daptin, Mrs. Gone," Lidrainen said as he sat behind his desk, "I have completed my survey of your health, and it doesn't look good. I was... I was fairly sure that you had The Dreab, and now I know, in fact that you do." Olga Gone started sobbing, but Daptin was numb and dumbfounded. "I don't want to hold anything back. I don't think it serves any purpose to play games with people. Daptin, you have a rare strain of The Dreab known as Hizzing's Disease. Have you heard of it?" "Um..." Daptin said through near-paralyzed lips, "I think... I don't know..." "It was named after Elfecorse Hizzings, an explorer and agriculturalist in Early Mobathy. He... committed some egregious acts of violence and terror against the native inhabitants of that land, and he was stricken by a painful and drawn-out malady. The legend had it that it was a curse cast on him by the natives, in punishment for his deeds. Now we know otherwise, of course." Daptin and Olga stared at the doctor wide-eyed. "But I digress," he said, then he looked down. "There's no easy way to put this to you Daptin..." The doctor looked up once again and caught the stony gaze of Daptin, and the look of pathetic youthful horror would made him want to curl up and die if he wasn't used to it. "Daptin... Hizzing's Disease is the worst strain of The Dreab. It is a kaidsine infection that slowly destroys all of the body's function, over the course of several years. There is no known cure for it, and very few treatment options available. So this is what I have to say to you--barring a medical breakthrough--or a miracle--you might live for another three years, most of that time in terrible pain." "Oh god no..." Olga whined. "Let me... let me set it all out for you. You have a choice. And this... this is not something you have to face right now, but I want to tell you everything. Under Arctican law, it is permissible to perform a mercy killing under certain circumstances... a diagnosis of Hizzing's Disease is virtually guaranteed to be accepted by the courts. Personally, I don't advocate this course of action. If you hang on, it's always possible that a medical breakthrough... or a miracle... will happen." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 18: A ROAD MAP OF ARCTICA CHAPTER 2 SR-196 ============================== SRrm002--"A Road Map of Arctica" ============================== At home, things were too normal for Daptin. Same old TV shows, same old dinnertime. The doctor had left him with a feeble attempt at hope--something about double-checking the results of the tests with some special lab in Baskonontana--that there was always a slight chance that the tests were in error. But Daptin knew... he knew that if a dozen tests all pointed in the same direction... the chance of them ALL being in error is astronomical. Daptin ate dinner and, like the rest of his family, tried his best to pretend that nothing was wrong. But inside him, he could feel his inner identity changing, metamorphosing like a butterfly. The idea was that if he was going to die anyway, he would have great freedom, since he had nothing to lose. No more school, that was for sure. He'd go back to get the stuff out of his locker, but no more. He'd heard of terminally-ill kids still going to school to retain some level of normalcy in their lives, but he could never understand it. What sense does it make to learn, when all you're gonna do is die with that knowledge, never having used it? After dinner Daptin retreated to the basement and set out a road map of Arctica on the floor in front of him. All the wonderful places to go! He was sure his parents would lend him the money to go on a grand journey, by air and rail and bus, before his malady began to claim him. The doctor had told him that he would have from four to six months of decent time left before the Hizzing's Disease would start to seriously disable and torture him. So! Six months of wonderful travel... followed by a brief period of pain, and then... at any time... he could say the word, get a lethal injection, and drift off to sleep forevermore... When he thought of being euthanized, he found it strange that he didn't care that much for himself, but rather felt horrible for what such an act would do to his mother, his step-father, and his two half-sisters. His real father was long dead. Died before he was born. If he hadn't been in the media, Daptin figured he never would have known anything about him. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 18: A ROAD MAP OF ARCTICA CHAPTER 3 SR-197 ============================== SRrm003--"Janniter Gone" ============================== His name was Janniter Gone, and he was this weird consultant kind of guy, "the man who made things happen". He was hired by various corporations, police departments, high-profile individuals, etc. when they had some intractable dilemma. Somehow, he always seemed to make things work out. There were suggestions, in the various news articles, that he had some sort of supernatural ability. "Gone" was a fairly common surname in Arctica, but still, it seemed an awfully strange coincidence that both his mother AND his step-father also had the surname Gone. If Daptin's mother had a different maiden name, or his step-father had a different surname, Daptin would now have one of those names, depending on what Arctican traditions his mother embraced. But as it was, it seemed that fate had hammered the name Gone into him, totally. There was one article about Janniter Gone in a magazine called "Sameday" that tried to probe into his past, intimating that he had something to hide there, that being the reason that no one knew anything about where he came from. They also opined that his death--a heroic rescue of kidnapped children from a building immolated in flame--was staged, that he was still alive, somewhere. Daptin's mother had contacted the reporter, who had actually come over to the house when Daptin was 3 or 4, and he expressed great remorse over the story, saying that he was very insensitive to the possibility of hurting people who were connected to Janniter Gone. Daptin's mother was Janniter's secretary for about a year. Toward the end of that year, they had an affair for about a month, and the next month, Janniter was killed, after saving the lives of a dozen children... going back into the burning building to search for more kids--he didn't know that there weren't any more--and he never came back out. The fire was of such an intensity, that there was no possibility of finding any remains. So Olga Gone and Janniter Gone were never married. She found out she was carrying his child less than a week after the tragedy. She hid her pregnancy from the media so that she wouldn't become some sort of throw-away celebrity. When she contacted the "Sameday" reporter, she insisted he keep the secret, and he obliged. She was rather surprised that he did keep the secret, since Daptin did look a lot like Janniter. But at that point, years after the death, there was little continuing interest in Janniter. So Daptin stared at the map, wide eyed and innocent, dreaming of his grand pre-death journey. And then a tear came to his eye when he realized that death would be an even greater journey. For a moment, Daptin felt blessed to be such a magnificent traveller, but in the next moment he faced reality, and realized that he'd rather live as a normal kid than be any sort of weird traveller. But then, faced with certain death, the whole travel angle might make things more bearable... Suddenly he saw something out of the corner of his eye and looked up... some sort of animal was running away from the basement window, at the top of the wall. All he could see was a big bushy tail as it slipped away... orange, like a fox... -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 18: A ROAD MAP OF ARCTICA CHAPTER 4 SR-198 ============================== SRrm004--"Impglein" ============================== I am Daptin Gone. Lying here in my bed in my Warhome, travelling for months, a million miles down Twicvion lane, and I'm losing it. It's all so complicated and confusing. My awareness... limited... in my Land... Daptin's Land... I had a sort of omniscience... but I was still getting accustomed to it when I got banished... banished from the world I created. And now... nothing to do but wait. If I'm so damn powerful, why can't I do something? Maybe I could... it's just... being here... in that portion of reality known as Rillekon's Road... only one thin sliver away from Gnoboslast... one step away from the last layer of the onion... from That Which Exists Outside... here, I'm afraid to muster too much magical force... for fear of screwing things up... for fear of being wiped out again, like what happened with the goodbye popcorn... Yeah... what was that all about? Obfuser. The Ultra Occult Entity. What do I really know about him? In college I knew him from my dreams... and I would "talk" to him when I was awake, but he was just a voice in my head... he kept saying that he knew what I was going through and that he wanted to help me... mostly it was just me wanting to get into some girl's pants... I thought he was just a figment of my imagination... but one day he showed up, looking like some skinny freshman... and we hung out... it was weird how I was so nonchalant about this immensely powerful entity being my buddy... I don't know... I told him about my experience at Canyon with The Tracy Taciturn... about my miraculous cure... about how a lot of the people around me thought the whole Hizzings Disease thing was a hoax all along... about how I went to college far away from home... Thatterine College in Gullia Fair in Baskonontana... to get away from the whole scene... I told him how I kept saying "Here is Canyon" over and over again, to try and get back there... to no avail... He told me he knew something about what was going on, but he really couldn't tell me. He did help me get into those girls' pants though... that was good of him... My life... such a blur... trying to keep it all in perspective is so hard... things have gotten so complicated... it's like my life before Agoopish is this big blur... and trying to remember is like trying to create... as if I got to Agoopish with no past, and I'm just making it all up as I go along... it's just that so much has happened... all this universal cosmic stuff, and me at the receiving end, always in the dark... Years after Canyon came Overwhelm Associates... finally, I was into the supernatural again in a big way... a Quality Scout, travelling to myriad Overwhelm teams on myriad worlds... writing reports... It all happened so fast... Dean Roarke Maiden... my good friend in college... he got me into Overwhelm... he was the son of a professor who died... a professor who was good friends with Bavler Bestroystraw and Letevs Fife and the whole gang who were the Aconck pioneers... Professor Jile Maiden... Whatever happened to Dean? I was supposed to get together with him, but then I was introduced to Agoopish, so it never happened. I was afraid he was starting his own pirate Aconck company, and was going to ask me to join... guess I'll never know now... Who am I? Who am I really? It seems like I am an extremely pivotal personality in the scheme of things... Fox said that I prevented him from ending the world... and now, my Land is serving as the platform for Sleap Drassy to quite possibly end the world herself... almost like... I saved the universe from Fox, just to allow it to be destroyed by Drassy. But what does it all mean, all these experiences? Aconck, Agoopish, Cup of Coffee, Daptin's Land, Rillekon's Road, Gnoboslast... I want it all to make sense, but the more I think about it, the less sense it all makes. I am the center of my own universe. So why do I feel so transparent? Why do I feel like I'm my own best friend, a best friend I'm slowly realizing I know very little about? What can I do? What should I do? I just want a world where things are stable, where you can get to know people without worrying that you... or they... will get swept into some alternate universe at a moment's notice... I mean, I have a strong feeling that I'll see my love Spanking New Sarah again... but considering where I am... it might not happen... there's a good chance that it might not happen... I'm falling asleep... let me fall asleep... I can't deal with this anymore... * * * * * You drive down Route 9 and you see a store called Impglein. You're puzzled, because you've never heard of such a store. So you stop... and you get out of your car, and you look into the store... all sorts of cool stuff in there... and you look up at the sign... IMPGLEIN... and you fear that this might all be a dream... with your luck, it probably is... finding such a cool store, then waking up before you get to see what's inside... -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 18: A ROAD MAP OF ARCTICA CHAPTER 5 SR-199 ============================== SRrm005--"Get Real Daptin" ============================== Am I Daptin Gone? Stupid, what a pointless train of thought, what a waste of time. Here in my Warhome, alone, alone, wanting Spanking New Sarah, wanting her, losing my mind... I created a world! I have that much power! Fox even thought I might have been THE ultimate creator of the universe! Yet I'm miserable... I just want a LIFE! I don't want to travel between alternate worlds and dimensions. I don't want to cavort with monsters and goddesses and superheroes. This sort of superlife is deadening, I don't feel human, I don't feel much at all. I just want to LIVE! A normal life... in a normal place... stuck on one world... no superstrength... having to fear being hit by a car or a passing bullet... fear for my life... I feel such power within me. Surely I can do this. Surely I can have a normal life. Surely it makes sense. I feel it. I feel it. I'm going to do it. It's going to happen. I will eventually come back to my Warhome, back to saving the universe from Sleap Drassy, but I have to experience a LIFE. I need to be REAL. I need to get REAL. Here goes. I concentrated and felt the same sort of energy well up inside me as I felt when I created my Land. Then came a moment of unbelievable lucidity, and I thought a billion thoughts in the blink of an eye. I smiled, somehow, and then I made everything go dark. I woke up and I was in my apartment. Wow, it worked. It all worked. A bank of newly-minted memories flooded into my head. Cool. It worked perfectly. I was in the middle of a real life. My name is still Daptin Gone... my hair is still green, but that's cuz I dyed it... I live in an apartment in Jersey City, near the Newport Center Mall, a few minutes walk to the Pavonia/Newport PATH station. If I lived on the other side of my building I could see Manhattan from my balcony, but unfortunately I don't, so I get to see the mall. I was pissed, cuz I figured a view of Manhattan, especially at night, would be great to impress girls. Girls... yeah, I have a girlfriend... Bonnie Pollard... but it's not too serious... yet... I work for this guy Comma. He had his name changed, legally, to "Comma", I swear! He's been into this creative stuff all his life, like publishing minicomics, putting out his music on little cassette tapes, making movies with cheap camcorders, all that. I met him in college and he kept me on his mailing list (and more recently, E-mailing list), and when he said he was starting this company "Hull" and was looking for computer people, I gave him a call and he hired me right away. I had been working in a desktop output bureau and it was miserable work. When I got the latest (and very delayed) issue of his E-mail newsletter "Comma's Coma", I was at my wit's end with that job on 14th Street in New York. But it all fell together, and he offered me about the same as I was making at Union Imaging, in the mid-30's. Comma won about $100,000 in the Connecticut Lottery, and then the next month won another $200,000 playing blackjack at the Luxor in Las Vegas. And THEN he somehow a few months later he bought a bunch of stock in this crazy IPO for this Internet company, Spacedust Sources, and sold it two days later for god-knows how much, and started Hull New Media right then and there. I've been working at Hull for two months now... and things are going pretty well. There's a cool gang of Generation Xers there, so I'm always steeped in talk of Star Wars, breakfast cereals, Brady Bunch, memories of Letterman, Led Zeppelin, eighties music, all that good stuff. I smiled and I was still in bed... here I am... it worked... I'm no longer in that Warhome... no longer part of all that interdimensional intrigue... I'm HERE. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 18: A ROAD MAP OF ARCTICA CHAPTER 6 SR-200 ============================== SRrm006--"Figurine Dream" ============================== It was... a Saturday. I... I was supposed to call Ann from work about going to Figurine Dream at the mall at South Street Seaport to get some "statch" work done for the Hull Gang chess set, which was my idea. Figurine Dream is this awesome idea... I think the one at the Seaport is one of the first... they have this full-body scanner, where you step onto this pedestal and stand perfectly still while all these scanners and things input you in 3-D into this Silicon Graphics computer... and then you get to preview the model of yourself on this screen, and see if you want it "printed" out on this "object printer" thing. It's so cool... there's this layer of plastic resin or something, and a laser inscribes it, and wherever the laser touches, the liquid becomes solid... then it lowers that layer, and starts working on another one. And after a few hours, voila!, a perfect little figurine of you! So I figured we could put together a chess set with all the people from Hull... with Comma as King of course... they have three object printers, with three different resin colors (brownish, bluish, and greenish)... we decided to go with the brown and the green, kind of a nature theme, good juxtaposition with the heavy techno theme of our lives. I went down there with Ann and Brandy this past week and checked it out... Brandy got a scan, but the printers were down. The scan alone cost $29.95! The figures range from $19.99 for the smallest to about a hundred for the largest. So our chess set is gonna cost us at least a grand, but Comma likes the idea and says he'll chip in for part of it. When we were down there I bought a few bootleg videos... of "The Cable Guy" and "The Hunchback of Notre Dame". Ann and Brandy think I'm crazy paying $10 for a shitty bootleg rather than spend $8 to see it in glorious cinema. But who has time to go to the movies? "Cable Guy" was alright. Kinda cool to see Jim Carrey in a darker movie, a movie that's at least ambitious, at least trying to do something more than be a backdrop for Carrey's "genius". With all these thoughts ringing in my mind, I got out of bed, naked, and headed for the bathroom to piss. Looking down at my body, I marveled at it... so frail... so real... if I jumped out the window, I'd be killed... I know this probably doesn't sound like something that should excite me, but it's like... like the feeling you get when you're out all day in the heat in oppressive clothes, and finally come home and strip them all off and take a shower... all of my invulnerability and superstrength and power served as a security blanket... but life is boring when you know that no matter what happens, you'll just keep on ticking... I had my HUMANITY back... and it felt wonderful... But what if I DID die here? What would happen? Would I be whisked back to the Warhome, the whole thing having been as a dream? Or would I indeed be dead, faced with whatever afterlife this world has to offer? I didn't know. I also didn't know how long my memories of my "real" life would last. As I pissed, I realized that I was fully aware of everything... my induction into Overwhelm... my introduction to Agoopish... my mission for the Caxopy sisters with the Cup of Coffee... the Goodbye Popcorn and being erased from existence... my salvation by Ultra Occult Entity Obfuser... Wreckage Mallie's gun kemig call that ruined and crashed the universe... and the fall into nothingness, where I reached out and created a Land of my own... my resurrection of Red Archer Booze after Prince Ferrajalt killed her... to getting booted out of my own Land by Booze and Sleap Drassy... to my meeting up with Agatha Petunia Wack... back to my apartment at Greatwall, back to the Cup of Coffee... then Ferrajalt walked in... then I got the psychic plea from Bellicose Billion... and we went off to save him... and wound up a million miles out on Twicvion Lane... and made Warhomes out of the buttons in Ferrajalt police uniform... to the endless days and weeks of driving along... of masturbation and frustration... till finally I reached out and made a new life for myself here... And I smiled as I shook the leftover urine off the end of my penis, as it came to mind a whole mindfuck, of all of that maybe being a fantasy, with this new life being my true life... living with two sets of memories is mentally stressful... but I like not knowing... I like being unsure... I like being human again. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 18: A ROAD MAP OF ARCTICA CHAPTER 7 SR-201 ============================== SRrm007--"Chess Challenge for the Video Generation" ============================== I walked back into my bedroom, sat on the bed, and picked up a big trade paperback that was on the floor, "Chess Challenge for the Video Generation". Comma sent me out the other day to get him these really obscure cigarettes that he likes, Waster's Umbers, and I had to take the 6-Train up to somewhere in the 70's or 80's, and when I got out there was this cool little alley with all these oriental stores and stuff. One place sold just monster figurines--Godzilla, Ultraman, that sort of stuff. Another one was this awesome used bookstore run by this old Chinese guy. I went in and asked him where "Wong News" was, since that was the place that Comma thought might have the Wasters. The guy told me "This IS Wong News!", so I looked around and didn't see any cigarettes, and asked him about it, and he said that the cigarette guy didn't come yet... apparently he takes his entire stock away with him when he leaves, and he only sets up for a few hours a day. He said the guy would be there within the half-hour, so I started browsing the books, knowing that Comma would rather me be out for a long time than come back empty-handed. The first book that caught my eye was an old hardcover with a worn jacket called "Rock Formations in the U.S.", and I looked to see if Shenandoah National Park in Virginia was listed, because I always liked the rock formations there. It wasn't. Instead, it was sort of a narrative... maybe a story... about the development of National Parks and stuff. It was all in two-color... black and a light green. I read about how this one guy with a hard hat on did something to upset these other guys with hard hats, and then put it back on the shelf. Then I found "Chess Challenge for the Video Generation"... a gorgeous piece of work, four-color on every page, with tons of photos of vid-kids against dark backgrounds, faces lit by video screens. It was published in 1982, and was an attempt to teach chess strategies by relating them to video games. For example, they had a chart showing how bad defense can allow one piece to start chomping up your pieces just like Pac-Man. Stuff like that. An awesome book. Anyway, I got the chess book and the obscure cigarette guy came. He had three variations of Waster's Umbers! There were two different sizes of the regular Umbers (regular and tall), and also Waster's Umber Blackjacks, with a really awesome, colorful package. I asked him about them, and he said enigmatically "They're not available in this country." I bought two packs each of the regulars and talls, and three packs of the Blackjacks, figuring I'd like to keep a box for myself, just to put on the shelf, since I smoke cigars, not cigarettes. It cost me almost $100, which I put on my American Express, knowing that Comma would gladly pay me back. I felt a surge of pride for serving my "master" well. When I got back Comma was indeed thrilled with the discovery of Waster's Umber Blackjacks, and said he was gonna go up there the next day and deal with the guy personally... he said he sounded like a good gray market connection... -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 18: A ROAD MAP OF ARCTICA CHAPTER 8 SR-202 ============================== SRrm008--"The Yellows" ============================== Brandy showed us a movie she made in college which she digitized into QuickTime. We watched the tiny image on a computer screen. She a very interesting girl, half Apache Indian and half Filipino. You might think she'd be a real beauty with that kind of heritage, but somehow she didn't luck out with the old gene pool. She has a weird case of bad acne, and her body is kind of skinny and weird. She has a really good personality, though. Her movie, "The Yellows", was about this evil force that's let loose into the world, and how people deal with it. The best scene was on this train car, where a Yellow was slowly moving down the aisle, turning people into little pieces of candy and eating them. It was this 7 or 8 foot tall mannequin or something, and it was really scary. The two main characters, these two guys, were sitting there and no one was moving, and they were talking about how if everyone started running away, there's no way they would make it, because they were so far from the exit. So no one knew what to do. Finally the two popped open the emergency exit and got out while the rest of the people were destroyed. Outside, the two guys were wondering if they should call the police or the government or something, with this evil force turning people into candy and eating them. But they figured that someone else was sure to inform the authorities, so they went to an ATM, took out all the money they could, broke into a car, hotwired it, and started driving south. That's how the movie ended. It was pretty good, but I wish I could have seen it on a bigger screen. Huh. I wondered about all these memories. Did all this stuff really happen, or not? I remembered when I first got hired at Hull... I decided to celebrate by having my hair colored green... something I had always wanted to do but never had the guts to go ahead with. All these memories, well-oiled and fitting like a glove, but none of it ever happened. But other people would REMEMBER me having been there, remember everything being real. I wonder if anyone else has ever had to deal with a set of dual memories? Hull New Media has its offices in The Ed Sullivan Theater Office Building on 53rd Street, right next to the Letterman show. Every evening tons of tourists and other assorted thrill-seekers gather on 53rd to catch a glimpse of departing celebrities... or at least Biff Henderson... So that's where I am... here in my new life... which will last who knows how long... but I know it'll be fun while it lasts... -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 18: A ROAD MAP OF ARCTICA CHAPTER 9 SR-203 ============================== SRrm009--"Hull TV" ============================== Daptin here. I've been in the real world for a few months now. The days pass by, and I am beset by the little annoyances of being normal. Like the PATH train I take into Manhattan. I really hate those trains. Sometimes I walk over to Hoboken and take the ferry to the World Financial Center, then the 1-Train up to Hull New Media. I have taken the PATH from Pavonia/Newport where I live to Hoboken, and then taken the ferry, but that takes a long time and in the time it takes to go to Hoboken I could have gotten to World Trade, or to work if I feel like walking or taking another subway. So you can see what I'm up against. Craving a normal life, I am now cursing its downfalls. But the thought of returning to my Warhome and continuing on with my adventure to save the universe is just too much to bear right now... I think I need a few more years of being real before I can even think about going back to that. I wonder about my memory. I created this current circumstance for myself and plugged myself into it. But I still remember perfectly what came before. So I have this dual set of memories--one the true memory, and one the fabricated memory of this made-up persona I am now playing at. I have considered trying to erase the memories of my real life, but I am still concerned over what happens in my Land, and I don't want to get stuck here forever slumming in normality. And how do I end this scenario anyway? I mean, I'm human now, and I don't have any special powers. I haven't tried my hardest to get out of here, cuz I don't want to risk losing the "charm" that's keeping me here. But without trying, I have to wonder whether or not I've locked myself in a cage and thrown away the key. And since I've been getting more and more annoyed with this way of life, I've grown ever more concerned as to the "out". But I got my answer. It was last week, and Comma called a meeting and told us about his new idea, of how the cyber-realm of Hull had to be supported by television. He said that online services were still viewed as a second-class medium, and that to really make a big splash on the mass mind, you have to do television. So he described his idea for "Hull TV". I paraphrase: "Hull TV has to be thought of as a cable channel, even though it probably never will be--it'll be delivered over the Internet. But we're talking a single-signal, 24-hour thing here. With commercials, but not the normal sort of commercials. The main idea is that there are not shows... or rather, just one show. Basically we're talking a soap opera, maybe a cross between 90210 and Dark Shadows--just to give you a general idea. We'll have a cast of the usual shockingly attractive and perky young folks, and it'll have these really cool storylines and stuff, could be real freeform at times. But then, and here's the twist, we feature the reality of the production of the show, I mean, it'll be like the MTV Real World, except that we're focusing on the production of the soap opera and the lives of the actors and other people involved in it... maybe even what's going on here and in the Hull cyber-realm... maybe the soap will even involve the cyber-realm. I don't know, I'm still working it out. But anyway, we'll have features of what it's like making the show, with the real people and everything, and the show itself, but there's a lot more than that. For one thing, there will be commercials, but these will be produced using the same actors that are in the show and the Real World part, either straight on-air ads like Howard Stern used to do on Channel 9, or produced stuff like a guy and a girl flirting with this instant coffee as a real big thing in their lives. (((We all laughed at that line--Daptin))). So that will be one thing, but it will also be like MTV in that the actors will also be like veejays, and will "host" the channel, announcing and showing various clips, and in a 24-hour broadcast day there will be a new episode, maybe an hour's worth, which will be shown several times, and then there will be selected clips from that show shown more times, and then classic clips from past shows, and also recaps of storylines and everything else. I want to make it so that you can tune in anytime and not feel lost--so that you're encouraged to tune in as much as you can, but not feel that because you're not tuning in enough you're missing something--the idea is that everything important that happens in the story--and in the Real World part too--will always be rebroadcast and stuff. This, my friends, will be the vital ingredient that has been missing--along with the Hull cyber-realm and your Hullself, there will be this TV channel always going, and the one will compliment the other, and I think we can make some pretty mean celebrities out of this experiment." Well, you see what I mean. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 18: A ROAD MAP OF ARCTICA CHAPTER 10 SR-204 ============================== SRrm010--"Abigail Trouncer the Cot" ============================== Anyway, he went on and on about the TV idea, and some of us were wondering if he wasn't going off on this tangent because the cyber-realm part of Hull is taking a long time to get off the ground and facing some really tough hurdles to its full implementation. I mean, Comma's got a lot of money, but a company operating in the red, trying to start a new mass medium, can eat up millions of dollars pretty quick! So we were all concerned over this new direction, even though it DOES sound like a cool idea for a TV channel. Anyway, Comma put the word out to his friends to try and find some potential Hull TV actors--like, right away. It was last Wednesday that we had the meeting and by Friday we had a bunch of people in the offices who were trying out for Hull TV. Brandy was in charge and she gave us all this impromptu booklet she put together on a Mac showing a photo of each person, their name, biography, stuff like that. We were all supposed to pitch in with our opinions and stuff about them. I thought it was really putting the cart before the horse--when we didn't have any of the organization developed for this TV thing. But Comma thought it was important to design the channel with the actors in mind, which I think is bullshit--Comma is just totally impatient and compulsive. Anyway, I was going through the bio sheets, kind of smirking at how unnecessary it all was, when I turned to a picture of a really cute blond girl. I was taken at once with her face--my heart kind of melted and I got that feeling--the same feeling I get when I see a girl like that on the train or on the street--that sort of instant fascination. And I made a mental note that I had to meet this girl and check her out and stuff. And then I saw her name: Abigail Trouncer the Cot. I froze and my expression changed. Abigail Trouncer the Cot. I was stunned and it took me a few moments to get my bearings. This name... it didn't sound like a name someone would have in this world... it sounded like a name someone would have in my previous existence--in Agoopish or Overwhelm or Rillekon's Road or somewhere like that... I mean, I would almost have fully expected a name like Abigail Trouncer the Cot as one of the folks who strayed into my Land, but here? Here in New York City? In a world without interdimensional intrigue? I got a weird feeling--I was getting worried--could this be some kind of agent sent to find me? Sent by Sleap Drassy or Agatha Petunia Wack or Cursive Caxopy? I mean, if this was just another alternate world, then surely someone from my previous place could come here... but I was really under the impression that this whole life would take place in the spantime of a dream, just one night, and I'd wake up after leaving this world, it being the next day in my Warhome. But what if that wasn't the case? What if I disappeared out of my Warhome? I would--yes--it would be just about the time that Agatha, Ferrajalt, and Billion would be getting back to civilization on Rillekon's Road. And Agatha--she might well indeed have the power to find me here... or send an agent. Damn! I still needed a LOT of time to recover from being supernatural! And now... and now this. But I realized I was being too hasty... it could just be a weird college nickname or something... some kind of nasty reference to promiscuity that stuck as an ironic sort of name... a cot is something you sleep with temporarily until you get to a permanent bed... um... I think I was reaching at that point... Anyway, I hung around Comma's office, talking to him and Brandy, asking him questions about Hull TV cuz I knew he wouldn't be able to resist indulging in talking about it. And finally, there she was--she just walked right in. Her hair was shorter than in her photo, and she looked a little disheveled in a jogging suit, but that face and that slim body, like some kind of Irish water fairy or something... "Oh, I see one of the possible recruits is here..." I said, starting to get up to leave, but Comma told me to stay, that the selection process should be a group effort. I knew he was gonna say that. Then Comma's phone rang, and he talked briefly and nodded and told Brandy to come with him and told me to entertain Abigail for a few minutes while he took care of business. "Fucking Internet bullshit", he said. I rose and shook her hand. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 18: A ROAD MAP OF ARCTICA CHAPTER 11 SR-205 ============================== SRrm011--"Straight to the Farm" ============================== "Hi. Daptin Gone," I said. "Abigail Trouncer the Cot," she said with a smile and I raised an eyebrow and motioned for her to sit as I did, and she did. "So, you're thinking of joining the, uh, cast of Hull TV, huh?" "I guess. My friend Gail told me a little about it. It sounds kinda neat, but I just don't know about it yet." I nodded and we had a little awkward silence that was made flirtatious by her eyes. "So, uh..." I said, awkwardly grabbing her bio page from Comma's massive desk and looking down at it, "Trouncer the Cot... that's uh... that's some name." "Yeah it's my stage name. Stage SPELLING, actually. No one can pronounce my name when they see its real spelling. Here..." and she fished through her little purse and extended her driver's license to me. I took it and read her name: "Abigail Tirnciarivecotnie". "Wow," I said, handing it back and shaking my head. "I'm not even gonna try." "Well," she said, taking it back, "It's 'trouncer the cot', that's the right pronunciation. Old Church Slavonic." I nodded, raising both eyebrows. "So... so you changed the spelling... so that..." "Yeah. I figured I could change it, but I like the way it looks spelled like that. And it gets people's interest, they just have to ask me in what way, shape or form I'm a cot!" I laughed and nodded, and there was another of those great awkward silences. "So," she finally said. "You guys get free tickets to Letterman here?" I laughed again (laughter is a good release for sexual tension I guess) and said "Nope. You might think, but we don't. I guess the Letterman Show is just this kind of annoying thing to us." "Really, why?" she asked, kind of seriously, and I regretted that she didn't get the gist of what I was saying. "Well... you know... all the tourists and assorted thrill seekers hanging around out there hoping to catch a glimpse of some glamorous celebrity... and Dave's various shenanigans like shooting watermelons from cannons and shit like that, closing the street, and..." "I don't know, sounds kinda neat," she said. "Yeah, I guess it is, a little." She nodded, and we stared at each other. After a few moments, she said "Do I know you from somewhere?" I smiled a nervous smile and felt flushed. "Um... I don't know... you ever been to Agoopish or Aconck or Gnoboslast or Rillekon's Road?" Heck, it couldn't hurt. "What are those, clubs?" "Um... yeah... you ever been to those clubs?" She smiled. "Never heard of 'em. I'm from upstate. I don't get to Manhattan very often." "No?" "Uh-uh." So I kept talking to her and we were getting along pretty well, and we shared that we were both seeing people, and that kind of made things more calm, and she said how she was staying on her parents' farm in Delhi, a town upstate, while they were on vacation, and how she was going up there with her boyfriend and if me and Bonnie (my girlfriend) wanted to come up for the weekend. She said she'd really like to talk to someone from Hull about Hull TV cuz she had this really strong hunch that she was gonna get involved. I told Abigail I'd call my girlfriend, and I got Abigail's number to call her about it just as Comma came back in. "I hope Daptin gave you a good PR speech for Hull," Comma said, and Abigail nodded sweetly. I left, lunging for a phone as soon as I was out of sight and called my girlfriend. Anyway, to make a long story short, I managed to convince a skeptical Bonnie to go to the farm with Abigail and her boyfriend. She asked me the boyfriend's name, and I realized Abigail didn't mention it. So I ran back to the office but Abigail was gone. Comma smiled at me and held out a scrap of paper. "She left this for you. She said she was going straight to the farm, whatever that means, and that if you're going you should follow these directions and get there tonight, or else call, she said you had the number." I nodded, took the piece of paper, and glanced at the directions. I had a weird feeling about this... -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 18: A ROAD MAP OF ARCTICA CHAPTER 12 SR-206 ============================== SRrm012--"Big Bed" ============================== So I met Bonnie in Jersey City and we drove up to Delhi in her brand new black Toyota RAV4. Nice vehicle. It took us like three hours to get there. Bonnie was driving fast, but we stopped a couple of times. Bonnie Pollard was already my girlfriend at the time of my entry into this world. As the fake memories go, I met her at a Beatles convention in Secaucus, and we really hit it off. She has long black hair and glasses, wears dresses and has a nice shape. She looks like a teacher or something. She does some cool stuff in bed. So, the roads leading up to this farm are pitch black and we have no idea where we're going and we realize that if we don't get to this fucking farm we're gonna be totally lost and screwed. But we found it eventually, down a hill from the road. There was a light on in the house and we knocked and after a minute or two, which seemed like a really long time, Abigail answered the door, motioning us inside while talking on a cordless phone. We walked in, and it was a nice place. Real rustic. She showed us to a couch and we put our bags on the floor and sat and waited for her to get off the phone, which she finally did a few minutes later. "Sorry about that. It was my sister. Anyway, I have some bad news--my boyfriend couldn't make it. One of his friends got into a fight and almost got killed. Yeah, he's in critical in the hospital, and my boyfriend was like involved in it and the police and everything so..." she nodded with an apologetic smile, "it's just us." She showed us to our room (her parents'), where we put our stuff, and soon we were drinking wine and eating microwave nachos and watching a video of her performance in a local avant garde play. Then she told us she wanted to show us something outside, and we followed her under the moonlight across this field, and a car went by on the road up the hill and it was the only sound, and finally we got to this big bed at the edge of the field! It was one of those deals with the posts and the drape thing on the top and everything. It was real nice out, but a little chilly. "I used to love sleeping out here when I was a kid," she said sitting on the bed. Me and Bonnie nodded, somewhat confused. "Ooh, it's chilly!" Abigail said. "Let's all get under the covers!" She giggled and dove under the covers of the neatly made bed with a really comfy-looking quilt on it, and somehow I managed to get in the middle between Abigail and Bonnie, after we took our shoes off, and it was REALLY comfortable, and I felt like taking my jeans off, cuz that would make it even more comfortable. Bonnie was real quiet. I couldn't tell how she was reacting to this. I mean, I know what she was thinking cuz I was thinking the same thing, I think, that this boyfriend story was made up and this Abigail was some wild swinger who had gotten us in this bed with her and stuff, only Bonnie might have thought I knew about the plot all along. But it could also have been totally innocent. Abigail was telling us about her childhood and Bonnie was cuddling with me pretty aggressively. Insecurity I guess. Then Abigail said it. "Hey, why don't we all get naked? It would be so warm and comfy in here like that!" My dick was hard as iron. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 18: A ROAD MAP OF ARCTICA CHAPTER 13 SR-207 ============================== SRrm013--"Severe Repair" ============================== I looked at Bonnie and she had a weird blank expression and she said to me "I'm game if you are." I looked over at Abigail then back at Bonnie. I was in the middle of this. I could tell Bonnie was trying to be open and stuff, but that she totally thought I was in on the planning on this. I thought of a bunch of things I could say, but I realized that no matter what, I was gonna get fucking naked in this great bed with Abigail, Bonnie or no Bonnie, so I shrugged and said "Let's do it!" Remember, we were all pretty drunk at that point on wine, also, so that kind of explains it somewhat. We kept to the pretense that it was innocent as we got undressed but as soon as we were under the covers (which was gloriously comfortable, by the way), Abigail started touching me and stuff and I was just like, fuck it, and got on top of her and started kissing her with drunken passion, with Bonnie watching, making it like a hundred times more awesome. Then I paused... just a brief pause, looking over at Bonnie, who was smiling and raising an eyebrow, showing approval or something, and I wondered what the fuck was going on--I come here to this world to have a normal life and now THIS is happening? THIS is not normal. THIS is fucking more fantastic than any of my adventures in the dimensions. But then I realized... maybe it wasn't gonna be so perfect... maybe Abigail and Bonnie weren't gonna do lesbian shit, and then it would be something of a letdown... not a total letdown, mind you, but something of a letdown... and more realistic... yeah... maybe it wasn't so perfect... But then Bonnie came over and I looked down and she was totally licking and sucking Abigail's tit, so there went that theory. I went for the other breast cuz it seemed like the thing to do. So what if I was maybe making this happen and it wasn't officially mundane? Normal life sucks. What does not suck is sucking a pretty tit with your girlfriend sucking the other one. Abigail let out a very alluring "ooooh!", and I thought about the orgy Sleap Drassy and Red Archer Booze had made the law of my Land, and I saw the parallel, and I wondered if Abigail Trouncer the Cot wasn't Sleap in disguise. Think about it... Sleap... Cot... Bed... "Wow, this is really some kind of severe repair!" I lifted my mouth from the nipple and looked up at Abigail. "Wh-what?" I stammered. She looked at me with a very satisfied face. "A real severe repair. You know? 'Repair' as in taking a break from your routine, going somewhere or doing something temporarily? And 'severe' as in something real difficult or out of the ordinary." I nodded and went back to what I was doing, and all through the night, the warmth and the sex under the covers and the chill night outside, this phrase 'severe repair' kept ringing in my head. We did it all, us three. And it all just... WORKED... so well. I don't know. I think it was as close to a perfect experience as a human being (or other entity) could have. Maybe I'll give you the details later. But I don't want to ruin the sense of absolute perfection I have of the experience by debasing it into a sequence of letters and words. Sorry, I know you might have been expecting a harsh pornographic portrait, but I just can't give that up right now. But I will tell you that later on, after we were all exhausted and in a state of great bliss, I began rambling on about my trip to Disney World to Abigail and Bonnie. I went there for a few days a few weeks ago, alone. Maybe it was just a subconscious attempt to inject a little innocence into the situation. I don't know. I finally fell asleep and dreamt of the mission I went on for the Caxopy sisters. It's weird to dream about Agoopish, because the place is so damn dreamlike in reality that a dream can't really do it justice... -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 18: A ROAD MAP OF ARCTICA CHAPTER 14 SR-208 ============================== SRrm014--"Condensation" ============================== When I awoke, I was alone in the bed, and I wished I could have gone to Agoopish right then. It was a chilly, foggy morning, and I saw flashing police lights on the street far above me... musta been someone who got pulled over or something. Nothing big. I figured my clothes would be wet and crummy with dew, but I found a pile of fresh clothes next to me in the bed--I guess Bonnie must have brought them out for me. I wondered how Bonnie and Abigail were getting along after what happened. Those two REALLY got into each other. I had to wonder if Abigail wasn't really Red Archer Booze, the bed a transformed version of her bottle... I got dressed quickly, not wanting the cop up there or anyone else to see me. Then I strode across the field, my boots getting wet from the condensation on the grass. And I found the two girls in the living room in front of a struggling fire in the fireplace, drinking coffee. "Good morning!" Abigail said. She was wearing a nightgown. "Want some coffee?" "Yeah." I sat next to Bonnie on a couch as Abigail left to get me my beverage. "Morning," I said. "Hi," Bonnie said, smiling and looking down into her cup. "That really was something, wasn't it?" I said after some silence. "Yup," she said, kind of distantly. I sat there staring at the fire, wishing it would roar to great life. I heard a clock ticking somewhere. I thought of the goddess Hollie Scroll Bonnie in Agoopish. And I realized that I was yearning to get back to my superlife. Then the phone rang. A few moments later, Abigail yelled "Daptin, it's for you!" I got up and yelled back "Who is it?" "Someone named Agatha something something." I furrowed my brow and glanced at Bonnie, and she caught my look. "What is it?" she asked. "I don't know," I said, heading for the other room, shaking my head. "I don't know." I accepted the cold green plastic receiver from Abigail, who gave me a really cute alluring glance. "Hello?" "Daptin? Is it you? It's Agatha Petunia Wack. Where are you?" My heartbeat raced and then Abigail caught my look. I shrugged. "Yeah, it's me." "Where are you? We got to Rillekon's Road. I was hoping I could use a primal-o-phone to reach you. We need you." "Um... Agatha it's... it kind of hard to explain. I didn't know... I mean, I thought... I didn't think I'd disappear from the Warhome like that..." I looked over and Abigail was staring at me after taking a sip of coffee. I looked away from her. "Look Daptin, this call is costing a lot of money. We need to get you back here. Tell me where you are and we'll come and get you." "I'm... I'm on an Earth somewhere... I thought that it would register as a one-night dream on Twicvion. But I guess not." "You transported yourself?" "I..." I said, figuring I couldn't afford to hold back info even though Abigail was hearing me. "I created a normal life for myself and put myself into it. I've been here a few months. I thought that when I was finished here it would be the next morning in the Warhome." "You used your Primal Creation power?" "I think so." "So it is a world of your creation?" "Um, yeah. No. I mean, I just created the situation, not the world, I don't think." "Interesting. Using that power to create a situation. Hold on..." I took a deep breath and looked over at Abigail. "Computer problems?" she asked. "No," I said, frustrated with what was going on. "Well what then?" I held up my finger because I heard the receiver being picked up at the other end. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 18: A ROAD MAP OF ARCTICA CHAPTER 15 SR-209 ============================== SRrm015--"Special Phone Thing" ============================== "Daptin?" It was Prince Ferrajalt's voice. "Yeah." "Where the hell are ya, man? We thought you were totally out." "I don't know. How did you call me?" "It's this special phone thing. Real expensive. It can reach anyone anywhere. Even in dreams and stuff." "Uh huh." "So can you come back? We found out a lot about what's going on. We know that Sleap has made at least two attempts to pierce Gnoboslast, but so far she hasn't had any luck. We gotta get over to your Land and do something, before she whacks the entire universe." "You know Ferrajalt, the reason I came here was exactly because HERE I don't have to save the universe every five minutes... I just have to go to work, pay my bills, stuff like that." "I don't know, man. Wherever you are, you gotta find a way to come back. This is serious." "Yeah, it sounds it." "CAN you come back?" "I don't know. You got my Warhome?" "Yeah, it's back at Agatha's, but we got it." "If I try for it, I think I'll wind up back in my bedroom there." "In the Warhome?" "Yeah." "Well do it, man! We really need you, bad." I shook my head. While I did want to go back, I didn't want to lose my life here. And since time was running one-to-one, if I went back there, I'd disappear from here. "Look, I'll try later, okay? I think I have to go to sleep to do it, and I just got up! Where's Agatha, anyway?" "She's over talking to this big guy Darnazy Thonc. I think he might have a way to get you back." "Great." Abigail kept looking at me, so I said to her. "Look, let me finish here, and I'll tell you all about it, not that you'll believe me." She nodded and headed back for the living room. "Who was that?" Ferrajalt asked. "One of the two girls I had wild, amazing sex with last night." He laughed. "No wonder you don't want to come back!" "I'll come back," I said. "Hold on, here she comes." "Okay." "Daptin?" Agatha asked. "Yes." "I think we might have a way to get you back, unless you can do it under your own power." "I... I think I might be able to. I'm gonna try later on. Okay? I mean, is it really all that urgent?" "It is," she said after a pause. "By tomorrow at the latest. Look, I can't stay on any longer, this is costing a fortune." "Okay! I told Ferrajalt, if I succeed I'll probably wind up back in my Warhome. I'll try later on, okay? You can call me again if it doesn't work, right?" "Right, but I'll be bankrupt with all these calls." "Look, don't worry, I'll try later, okay?" "Okay. Daptin, these are extenuating circumstances. If Sleap gets through... no one even wants to speculate what might happen." "Okay. I'll see you later, hopefully. Alright?" "Okay. Bye." "Bye-bye." I hung up the phone, went to the living room, and plopped down on the couch. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 18: A ROAD MAP OF ARCTICA CHAPTER 16 SR-210 ============================== SRrm016--"Sutured" ============================== "What was that all about?" Abigail said. I held up my hands. "Look, it's this whole thing, alright? If I explain it to you, you'll think that I'm totally nuts." "Are you in some kind of trouble?" Bonnie asked, putting her hand on my shoulder. "No! It's nothing like that. I mean... let's just say that I have another life somewhere, and I'm gonna hafta go back to it to settle some business." "What, do you have a secret wife and family somewhere?" Abigail asked. "No!" I said, "It's much weirder than that. It's nothing that you're thinking! I'm... I'm from another universe, another world. I... I created my own Land, and then someone took it away from me, and now they're trying to do something there that's gonna destroy the universe and stuff, so I gotta get back and try and prevent that. From happening." The two girls looked puzzled. "I told you you wouldn't believe me!" "Is it something from cyberspace? Something about Hull?" Bonnie asked. "No! Not about that at all! I'm some kind of god or something, and I came here for a break... a break from all the interdimensional, cosmic shit I gotta deal with all the time. This sounds so crazy!" "It does," Abigail said. I looked at her. "Look Abigail, be straight with me. Are you from there? Are you someone I knew from there, or are you involved in some way?" "What do you mean?" "I mean, dammit!, if you were then you'd know what I mean." "I really don't know," she said. "Good," I replied. "Daptin," Bonnie said, "I'm trying to understand. Please let me help you." "I knew that what happened out there was a sign!" I blurted out. "That... that kind of thing doesn't... doesn't happen every day... here..." "We all wanted it," Abigail said. I looked at her. "That's not what I mean." "It was a really good thing for me, Daptin," Bonnie said. "I mean, I've had these feelings... lesbian feelings... for such a long time... it felt so good to just finally DO IT. You know what I mean? Like I was all bottled up inside for so long, repressed by society's norms... and it's just such a... a FREEING feeling to have finally done it." I shook my head. "Look... look, uh, Bonnie, okay... I mean it's great that you're getting to express your sexuality and stuff, but what I meant was..." "Daptin," Bonnie said, "I'm sorry, but it's not about YOU, it's about ME. And... I'm not saying that I don't want to see you anymore... it's just that to be true to myself I think that I have to explore this side of myself. And that means being with women like last night... but by myself... I need to do it without the justifying factors." I nodded, expressing frustrated confusion. "Do you remember when we met, Bonnie?" "Of course." "Well I do too. Only thing is, I wasn't there. It happened before I came here. In fact, it didn't really happen at all. When I entered this world, I created a situation for myself, I cast out a situational net, and you were caught in that net and became part of the past that I didn't have. So maybe if I leave the same thing will happen in reverse... all the situations I was involved in will be amputated and sutured. Suddenly you being here without me will make sense. A whole new past will be created to service the present situation. You'll have met Abigail somehow, come up here and made love to her by yourself. No Daptin, no justifying factors, whatever." "That's the thing with guys," Abigail said, "they get so emotional and flip out with a threesome. They want it so bad, but when they see their girl likes it, they think she's cheating, that she's betraying him. Like he's not doing the same thing, but that's okay, he's a guy, he can never stop lusting after every halfway decent-looking chick in the world." I shook my head again. "You're not even addressing the stuff I'm saying, neither of you. I'm saying, in no uncertain terms, that I am a godlike being from another world, slumming in this one as a little vacation from the stresses of having to save the fucking universe every five minutes! I mean, come on! Tell me that I'm a fucking nut! Address what I'm saying!" Bonnie closed her eyes. "Daptin, what you're saying is a sign of great mental strain. There's no shame in having a nervous breakdown, lots of people have them." I pointed at her. "See? That's what I mean, thank you. I know that what I'm saying sounds absolutely wrong, totally insane. And the ironic part is that as soon as I prove it to be true, you'll forget that I ever existed." "I would never do that," Bonnie said. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 18: A ROAD MAP OF ARCTICA CHAPTER 17 SR-211 ============================== SRrm017--"John Byrne" ============================== I sat there watching TV, in Abigail's farmhouse, feeling miserable. I was watching some kind of really bad "Fantastic Four" cartoon. It's funny. I never heard of the "Fantastic Four" before I came here, but I have these alternate set of memories where I used to read their comic books and stuff. Vague memories of an artist I thought was so awesome, John Byrne. Ah, what the fuck does it matter? I'd be back in my world soon... back in that... that... that "Severe Repair"... the term Abigail used last night in superbed. Bonnie and Abigail came in after they got dressed and did god-knows-what with each other in the shower and bedroom upstairs. They said they were going into town, but they were afraid to leave me cuz they thought I was a suicide risk. I turned off the TV, laughed, and lied down on the couch. "You think?" I said, closing my eyes. "Well just hang out and watch me lie here... you'll see me disappear cuz I'm going home right now. But you won't know that you were watching me the moment I disappear... the whole thing will just not have happened." "Okay," Bonnie said, in a sickeningly condescending tone. "Lay down and disappear. We're here for you. We'll get you the help you need." "Just give me five minutes," I said. So I brought forth my Primal Right, and felt my power, and it came on strong... like sexual excitement after a long period of deprivation. My power came and I was in it and I saw exactly what I had to do to get home. And I did it. I was weightless and formless and I caught glimpses of grander things as I struggled to maintain control over my travel. Situationless, I drifted, sensing my former situation in the Warhome, seeking to embrace it, to be back in my Severe Repair. That state melded into dreams, and I lost consciousness, and then I woke up very tired and I was back in my Warhome. I took a deep breath and sat up. Naked and back in my Warhome bedroom. The clean, technological Warhome smell hitting my nostrils. And the sting of the loss of my normal life was harsh. I reached over and hit a communication button, hoping to get Agatha or someone in their Warhome. But the screen above me was unresponsive, showing only a thin blue and yellow line horizontally through its center. I tried a few more time, with no success. So I hit the button that usually brought up a video image of the outside. That image popped onto the screen eagerly. And that image was an image of Abigail's house. I did a double take and stared at it. ABIGAIL'S house? No. No. It couldn't be. I jumped up, ran to the closet, and hurriedly climbed into a standard Warhome police officer uniform. (Fitting me perfectly, of course. Warhomes adapt to their owners in subtle, weird ways. Kind of like a dog.) Dressed, I opened the door that led into the central shaft, climbed the ladder in the cool artificial light to the landing behind the cockpit, opened the cockpit door, and strode into the cockpit. Indeed. Yes indeed. The Warhome was in the field outside Abigail's house. And there were Bonnie and Abigail, on the porch, looking like they had just spotted the Warhome. Dammit! Damn, damn. So fucked up. A Warhome in this wonderfully plain world. Fuck! You know what one Warhome could do to a world? One Warhome could become millions in a matter of weeks--billions in a matter of months--every human being on the planet could have their own--no more need to work--the Warhome provides you everything. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 18: A ROAD MAP OF ARCTICA CHAPTER 18 SR-212 ============================== SRrm018--"Keys Again" ============================== Shit. I looked at the keys in the ignition, and I grabbed them and shoved them into my pocket. Keys. Keys that held the fate of Earth, the United States of America, Europe, Asia, and all the rest. These keys could destroy Earth as these billions of souls knew it. If someone got these keys and got in and started making more Warhomes... Then I looked down at the buttons on my shirt and cursed. These buttons were also matter handlers! One of these BUTTONS could fuck everything up! Dammit! I felt like I just fucked the Earth and left behind the Severe Repair virus of superlife. This Warhome in this place... these goddamn buttons in this place... Oh, Abigail and Bonnie started walking toward the Warhome. I sat in the driver's seat and started fiddling with the controls, wondering if there was any way to get off of this Earth, or even to destroy the Warhome. Well, there was always the direct matter-to-energy conversion protocol. It made the entire Warhome an atomic bomb so powerful that the entire Eastern Seaboard would be instantly vaporized if it went off, so that wasn't a very good option. I cycled through a bunch of Warhome info screens, but there was nothing I needed, and the girls were near now, so I just stepped outside and greeted them. "Hi," I said. The girls just let their jaws drop and were speechless. I smiled. "Surprised to see me?" The girls remained speechless. I wondered if I looked very different. I FELT different. I knew that I was invulnerable and superstrong again. I was Daptin Gone of Severe Repair again. After the girls shared many confused glances, Bonnie finally spoke. "Daptin. What are you doing up there? What..." I held up my hand. "Come on up and I'll explain everything." "I don't know..." Bonnie said. "No, it's okay," Abigail said, and I raised an eyebrow at the statement. As they were climbing up the ladder to the balcony outside the cockpit, I asked "How do you know it's okay, Abigail?" She stopped for a moment and looked up at me. "What, it's not?" "No I'm not saying that. Just wondering again if you know more about all this stuff than you're telling." "All this stuff?" Abigail said as she finished climbing and stood next to me. It's weird, she seemed shorter than before. Was I shorter in my normal form than in my true form? Hmm, interesting question. "You know... all this supernatural stuff... 'Severe Repair' as you called it." She shook her head, as Bonnie joined us. "I'm... I'm totally at a loss right now," Abigail said. Bonnie was looking me over. "You're different, Daptin." "Yes, I am." Bonnie looked the Warhome over. "What is this?" she said, emphasizing every word. "This... is a Warhome. You could call it the ultimate mobile home." I narrowed my eyes and continued. "I'm going to show it to you, but don't get too attached. This Warhome does not belong on this Earth. It could destroy all the societies on this planet in a few weeks." "How?" Bonnie asked. "Don't worry about it. Just take my word. Now come on." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 18: A ROAD MAP OF ARCTICA CHAPTER 19 SR-213 ============================== SRrm019--"Likes Trains" ============================== In October of 1996, two guys were talking in the parking lot of the Kinnelon Mall in Kinnelon, New Jersey. "We're gonna time travel to the set of 'WKRP in Cincinatti' and hang out," said Likes Trains. "Shut up," responded Doesn't Like Trains. "Dude, everything on TV is a time and a place." "A little time travel goes a long way." "I was a loser in high school. Therefore I shall fuck all the hot girls I see on TV, when they were hottest. Any girl would trade sex for time travel favors." "You're... you're... I understand where you're at. You're in a state of deprivation. And your thoughts, your fantasies... aren't they delicious to ponder? But I tell you... the path you're aiming for... it won't be much fun after awhile." "I don't give a shit. I'm gonna fucking go wild. Put time travel in my hands, and I'm a fuckin' rocket. If I learn my lesson, fine. But I'm gonna have fun learning." "You're gonna hurt a lot of people in the process, and eventually it'll come back to haunt you, and you'll wish with all your heart that you'd taken my advice." "Fuck you." "'Fuck'--you keep using that word. It's sad, a person like you, with all your talents and abilities, and you still resort to the most uncreative, most childish epithets." "Like I said, fuck you." "Great. Great. So do you have anything else to tell me before I go?" "Yeah." "What?" "The Holland and the Lincoln Tunnels are fucking fakes." "Yeah, that makes a lot of sense." "I'm tellin' ya!" "Y'know, let me just... let me... look--people go through those tunnels every day. Millions of people, thousands, whatever. If the tunnels are fake then everything we know about reality is also fake. Is that what you're trying to say, that all reality is just an illusion? Not very original or useful." "That's not what I'm saying at all." "Then what are you saying?" "I'm saying that, a few hundred feet into the tunnel, there's a dimensional doorway, on both sides. There IS no tunnel, just a dimension door." "So why does the tunnel seem so long?" "That's the thing. They had to build a fake tunnel. They built it in an enchanted forest. It looks like a little Great Wall of China. It's above ground." "Uh-huh. And I guess the whole thing is a hundred percent airtight, huh?" "What difference does that make?" "Air pressure, stupid. The difference between two worlds would almost always be considerate. There would be a constant wind." "I guess it's airtight then." "Why do you believe this?" "I don't know. A friend of mine said he broke through. Bad car accident, explosion, whatever. Said that as soon as it happened, they put another fake tunnel online." "Switchable dimension doors, eh?" "Not necessarily. They could slide a new one in like a new curtain or something." "Why not just admit that they're using dimension doors?" "It would totally fuck up the economy. Airplanes and airports would disappear. So would a lot else." "So why use it in the first place?" "A lot cheaper to build. But the government or whoever pays for this shit thinks you're fucking burrowing in solid rock. It's a lot of money. Why are you smiling?" "No, I was just thinking, what if they slipped in time gates? Can you imagine the havoc that would cause?" "Now you're thinking like a man!" -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 18: A ROAD MAP OF ARCTICA CHAPTER 20 SR-214 ============================== SRrm020--"Doesn't Like Trains" ============================== "No no, just--imagine the commute--you cross the tunnel and it's like the week before--you work last week and live this week..." said Doesn't Like Trains. "It'd bring those lottery returns down, that's for sure," replied Likes Trains. "Huh?" "Everyone would play the same numbers, so there'd be less to go around." "Yup. There you go. Yet another industry that can be destroyed by the deployment of a simple supernatural technology." "Isn't that redundant?" "What?" "'Supernatural technology." "Oh. Semantics. Semantics can be fun." "Oh. Insults. Insults can be fun." "Haha, I guess we're even." "So we have to do an install today or something?" "Yeah... time gate... near the David Letterman theater or something." "Dave is getting into TT? Personal or for broadcast?" "No, not him. Some computer entrepreneur." "Oh. What's it set for?" "It's better half is in London, minus thirty." "Ah, Beatles territory." "Yeah." "Y'know, I've been thinking of heading back there myself. If I put on a nice female body, which one of the Beatles would be best to fuck?" "Here we go again." "Hey man, I read your book. You're responsible for everything I know." "But I wanted to point out the dangers, not encourage such behavior. And that was before I was infinity days old." "Yo, you're infinitely old?" "No, I just said I was infinity DAYS old." "Oh." "You have a lot to learn. I can't stop you. You have the right to be here. All I can do is warn you." "But you were like me, right? You did all the stuff I'm thinking about, no? And look at you. You're old and wise and all the better for it, eh?" "I am all these things, and were it but a personal journey, then I would have no warnings for you. But other people are involved. And when you hurt someone else, it is like unto an injury to you that cannot ever really heal. If I could change what I have done, I would. I believe there is a chance you might curb your activities based on what I say." "Yeah." "Not that you'll resist getting started, but I think you will see that such activities follow a geometric progression. That is, when you plug your human sexuality into the equation, you'll find that instant gratification will cause you to need more and different stimuli. The most damage will be done toward the end, before you effectively destroy yourself. If you can avoid THAT phase, the carnage will be a lot less. And remember, you'll have to stop long BEFORE that time, since there's a lot of inertia involved." "Objects at motion tend to stay in motion." "Right. But I must admit, I see in you so much of myself, that I have little hope that you'll avoid being destroyed just as I was." "Uh-huh." "See? What you just said is PIVOTAL. Your 'uh-huh' encodes your ingoring and lack of respect for what I have told you. It is the dynamic by which history repeats itself. If you could somehow transcend the trend, it would be a major victory. And it's George by the way." "Huh?" "George. George Harrison. He would be the best." "Yo man I was just kidding about that." "No, no you weren't." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 18: A ROAD MAP OF ARCTICA CHAPTER 21 SR-215 ============================== SRrm021--"Comma's Coma" ============================== COMMA'S COMA ISSUE 14 and a half and two-thirds the square root of 2 December 1993 Copyright 1993, (<---by me, Comma, get it?) ***MAJOR INTRO*** "That's My Name, Don't Wear It In" They say that which does not kill you makes you stronger? I hope I wind up stronger after all the shit I've been going through to legally change my name. The looks people give you when they don't understand. But I'll tell the whole story when the whole story is there to tell. What I do want to do is set the story straight. I've been hearing from all over all these different versions of why I want to change my name. It's like that game we all played as kids, post office or something, where you keep passing the same story over and over 'til it becomes totally transformed. So I am here to set the story straight. I was born Alwood Jacob Sturbridge on November 10, 1964. Alwood Jacob Sturbridge. That alone should be reason enough to change my name, no? But really, my overwhelming desire to change my name did not come from me not liking my name. If fact, younger, I did like my name. It was only when I began to forge works, and put my name to them, that I began to feel uncomfortable with my name, in relation to "stamping" it onto my works. It was really my computer art where the whole thing began. Wanting to sign my art, I tried it all--scanning in my signature and trying to merge it in with my art (no small feat in those days), typesetting my name in the works, resulting in type which looked terrible small and obstrusive big. So I wanted something like a single letter or symbol to represent myself, the more brief the better. Looking at an alphabet chart the comma jumped out at me. I could typeset it big, real big (in relation to other letters) without it being obtrusive. So the name really did start from that need, and all the philosophy of it came afterward, though I am sure it was with me at a subconscious level all along. A comma signals an end, but also a new beginning. I think I realized this right away. My computer art, all computer art, signalled an end of one kind of art, and the beginning of a new kind. And I represent a new SORT of creator, forger of works. Put that in your pipe and smoke it! -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 18: A ROAD MAP OF ARCTICA CHAPTER 22 SR-216 ============================== SRrm022--"On the Origin of Fnud" ============================== ***ON THE ORIGIN OF FNUD*** Many of you have been experiencing my great comic strip character "Fnud" in electronic text form in the bits of "Comma's Coma", but I'm sure far fewer have ever seen the strips in graphical form. Hopefully in the near future I'll be able to scan some (or all) of these into computerese and make them available on the Internet, or as attachments to this E-mail E-zine. Some of you have asked me how I came up with Fnud the Musketball, and I've given a variety of disfunctional answers over the years. So, after some soul-searching (or scorching) and also readin' over my old journals, I'm ready to set forth the true, accurate rendition of the Origin of Fnud. It all started in high school, where I was known as an artist of some sort, and some fellow kids asked me to create a poster for their "Kolle Klops Fund", that international organization that provides relief for third-world countries or something. They were doing some sort of fundraiser, I don't quite remember. I did the poster using Letraset dry transfer lettering and ink drawings and stuff--I myself don't have a copy of it--in the back of my mind I've been considering trying to contact some of those folks to see if they have a copy of it. Maybe I have a high school reunion coming up? I don't know. It seems like the tenth anniversary is coming up--I know I missed the fifth. Anyway, I had a lot of other stuff I was working on, and I kept trying to remember to do the poster by repeating the word "fund" over and over in my mind. At the same time I was heavily involved in anagrams, and somehow I must have subconsciously played around with the word, and one day I just wrote down "Fnud". I had recently gotten a book on George Herriman's "Krazy Kat", and I was really into it, and it inspired me to try and work on a comic strip of my own. Complicated enough yet? Anyway, were were doing the Revolutionary War in history class, and somehow it all came together and I decided to have Fnud be a Musketball. I guess part of it was so he would be easy to draw. So, as you all know, I created the scenario that Fnud was fired in the Revolutionary War, and for some reason of cartoon physics, he didn't stop, but he kept going, travelling through a myriad of alternate worlds, never able to fully stop. I think that several aspects attracted me to the name as soon as I came up with it. It has a mind of Scandinavian feel, like "fjord" or something. I think that Kolle Klops started in one of those northern countries. Also, "Fnud" sounds a lot like "Thud", which would also be a good name for a cannonball/muskterball type character, if you see what I mean. Anyway, the rest is history, and Fnud is ready to take his place among popular characters, as soon as I get off my ass and publish an anthology or something. I always thought it would be cool to have a variety of licensed products of Fnud. I especially think that a Fnud pinball machine would be great, in that he could be the pinball! How great is that? I think it would be awesome for such a pinball machine to be totally black-and-white--no color at all--since all my Fnud comics are black-and-white line art. Also, I don't think such a color scheme has ever been used before, in a major pinball machine. (The "Pinball Construction Kit" comes to mind--an early piece of Mac sotware, but that's neither here nor there...) Let's hear it for FNUD! -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 18: A ROAD MAP OF ARCTICA CHAPTER 23 SR-217 ============================== SRrm023--"A Musical Mission" ============================== ***A MUSICAL MISSION*** You know, I never really did get the hang of CD's. It's a tactile thing, really. Touch. I mean, with vinyl, you could maybe even partially clip a fingernail and set it in a groove and get some sort of sound. It's analog. You can see it, you can touch it. I know with me being so into computers it must seem strange that I've been hanging onto this outdated tech, but hey, that's why I'm Comma and you're not! Also, I guess, there's the matter of principle that I don't want to make the record companies richer by buying CD versions of LP's that I've already bought. But I've been running into problems in the general subject of borrowing music from friends, because just about all my friends have switched over to CD. Enter MiniDisk. This amazing new technology from Sony allows you to record on a somewhat-CD-like disk, giving you the advantages of CD's (ostensibly better sound quality, easy random access, and no degradation of sound quality with repeated listening). So, I have decided to get a MiniDisk player/recorder, and transfer my entire record collection to MiniDisk. One thing I love about this idea is that all the pops and hisses that occur when I play each record and record it will then be preserved forevermore in pristine digital clarity. I think there's something just so cool about that. So screw all you record companies. And screw CD's! Starting soon, I will listen EXCLUSIVELY to MiniDisks of my records, and NOTHING ELSE! Now all I gotta do is scrape up many hundreds of dollars to buy the damn machine... ***RANDOM THOUGHTS OF FINENESS*** Y'know, I'm really confused by Playboy Magazine. No, no, it's not that I don't know what I'm looking at--I'm not THAT naive--it's just that I find myself forming emotional ties with the various lovely centerfolds each month, and I'm quite perturbed by it. Love, infatuation, lust--call it what you will--but I get these reactions, to what is, really, a bunch of little colored dots on a gloss-coated sheet of dead tree matter. What the heck is wrong with me? The brain is a marvelous thing, but when it goes way overboard like this--getting you emotionally attached to images on paper--then there's something wrong. It's wrong I tell you. WRONG! WRONGO!!!! Ahem. Excuse me. Got a little carried away there. Let me move onto another of my favorite topics--how people love to annoy me so. Lately, I've been drinking ginger ale from a coffee mug. I don't know, call me crazy, but it seems that a coffee mug is eminently utile as a container for any kind of liquid. So why do people give me such grief when they see me sipping that golden pop nectar, that GINGER ALE, from a coffee mug? Wake up, people! There's a whole world out there if you just open your darn EYES!!!! Wow. I'm really shot out of a cannon today. Up on a soapbox, running my mouth off, whatever. Yup. Farewell, children! ***THE MANIC MISADVENTURES OF FNUD*** FNUD--"Wow. I've really picked up speed over the desert. Wait, what's this? Conical dwellings of some sort?" Fnud slows as he flies into an American Indian village. YOUNG INDIAN--"Get outta here, ball-that's-not-doing-what-it's-supposed-to-be-doing!" FNUD--"Wow, hey, think I can wear a feather on my head too, like you?" YOUNG INDIAN--"I could attach it to you in a manner similar to the way we attach points to arrows." FNUD--"Um, what method might that be, good fellow?" YOUNG INDIAN--"We use antelope tendons." FNUD--"Wow, hey, maybe a feather's not such a bright idea after all. Might slow me down. Bye bye, there!" FNUD picks up speed and zooms off across the desert... ***PARTING SHOT OF THE LIGHTNING KIND*** Well, that's about it for this month. 1994 will be here soon, and the Comma Empire will soon rule! Hey baby, you can say you read my stuff before I became an international superstar! Keep those letters comin'! Hey man, what's this crazy L on MY HEAD! (Look at a keyboard to see why this is funny). Ta ta! , ***END THIS COMMA'S COMA*** -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 18: A ROAD MAP OF ARCTICA CHAPTER 24 SR-218 ============================== SRrm024--"The Beatles" ============================== Comma's office was dark, but I saw a crack of light from a closet. So I opened the closet and saw that it led into a narrow hallway that shouldn't have been there, with the faint sound of music. "Hello?" I said loudly, to no response, so I walked down the hallway to a point where it turned left. I turned the corner and beheld a scene that chilled me. Comma was standing in a small room smiling at me. John Lennon was sitting by a table, playing Super Mario 64 on a Nintendo 64 video game system on a big black Sony TV monitor. George Harrison was on the other side of the room standing over a stereo system, which was playing a live version of the Nirvana song "Lithium". Next to the stereo was the "Beatles Anthology" video set, still in the shrinkwrap, with a pricetag reading "$99.99". John was guiding Mario through a snowy iceworld, and he exclaimed "Wow! Wow!" as Mario fell into a chasm. Then he turned to look at me with a stoned-out glance and said "Look, it's a green-haired man, a green haired man." George turned slowly, his eyes looking very tired and said "Hello." My eyes were wide with astonishment, and I was at a loss for words as I stared at Comma. "Daptin, my man!" he said as he strode forward and held out his hand. I didn't respond. I was livid. "What are you doing?" I said through clenched teeth. He turned around and surveyed the room, then looked back at me a big grin on his face. "You know where you are?" I shook my head. "It's London dude! And it's 1966!" Comma said as he slapped me on the shoulder. "Time travel!" he yelled when I didn't respond. John turned to me, away from the game, and said "It's good stuff, son. Comma baby here was kind enough to tell me about how I die in 1980 and how I can go about preventing it." I opened my eyes wider and glared at Comma. John started singing along with the music "I love you, I'm not gonna crack, I kill you, I'm not gonna crack..." "What's the matter man? I thought you'd go ape shit for something like this!" Comma said. "Comma... what are you doing to The Beatles here?" "Come on Daptin!" Comma said defensively. "The Beatles are prime targets for time travellers! I figured I could do a better job than the others. I mean, shit, I hear Yoko Ono was... is... a time traveller from the 22nd Century. I can help these guys." I could see that Comma, too, was fucked-up on some kind of drug. "Yow! Oh! Oh!" John exclaimed as Mario again got killed onscreen. "Comma, where is this Pearl Jam record you told us about, I can't find it," George said in a slurred manner. Comma held a finger up and said "I'll get it," but he didn't move. "When did this all happen?" I asked in a deadly serious tone. Comma shrugged and said "A few weeks ago. It's a great idea. The greatest. I'm going to release Hull concurrently in 1996 New York and 1966 London. It's not such a fucking struggle any more, every day. Back here, with what I got, I can make it as big as I want, make Bill Gates look like a fucking... a fucking..." "A fucking rotten little bastard!" John blurted out, and then he laughed hysterically. "Yeah, that'll do," Comma said. Damn. My presence was corrupting this world. A guy like Comma would never have gotten time travel if the world were normal. But somehow, with me here in this world, things were changing. Like in quantum physics, the act of observing something changes that thing. Then suddenly a stark bell began chiming in the vicinity of the time-hallway. A chill ran though me. "What... what's that?" I asked. "Fucking goddammit!" Comma yelled. "Goddamn time-fucking slip. Goddammit!" "What?" I asked again, unable to raise my voice. "Just ignore him," John Lennon said. "He gets nervous." "Yeah, he's nervous, like," George Harrison said. "Okay guys, shut up," Comma yelled, holding out his hand, as he rushed into the hallway. "Shit!" we heard him yell from in there. "What?" I said loudly. I started to move toward the hallway, but Comma was just coming back. "Two months," he said with disgust. "What?" I asked again. "Two months. We fucking slipped two months again." "Too bad for you two," John said with a smile. "Daptin," Comma said, putting a hand on my shoulder, "I'm sorry man. The time door is a little unstable. Fuck! I'm afraid that when we go back to 1996 it's gonna be two months later. We'll have been gone for two months." Rage surged upward through me. "Two months! Do you... do you know what this means? God damn..." I said, and I started heading for the hallway. Comma grabbed my arm. "Yo man, cool down." "Fuck you!" I yelled, as I ran through the hallway and back to 1996. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 18: A ROAD MAP OF ARCTICA CHAPTER 25 SR-219 ============================== SRrm025--"Karate Chop" ============================== It was a sunny day, 3:15 PM on Comma's garage-sale-cool analog-digital clock (with the numbers on little tiles that flip down). The office was totally abandoned. I looked out at the main work area, and it everything was messed-up, as if the place had been trashed and looted. Then I heard a rumbling from 53rd Street below. I slowly walked toward the window, with a sinking feeling, but just then Comma burst out of the closet and grabbed me by the arms. "Just fucking relax, Daptin!" he yelled. I threw him aside with superhuman strength and sent him headfirst into a filing cabinet. He crumpled over. He was probably dead. I moved to the window and looked out. A Warhome was cruising down 53rd Street. It got to Broadway, and joined a convoy of Warhomes heading downtown. There were hundreds of them, and they just kept on coming. I closed my eyes. How could it have happened? When I tried to go back to Rillekon's Road, I instead wound up still in this world, but in my Warhome and in my true godlike body. I told Bonnie and Abigail everything. My head was buzzing. I was all screwed-up. I had known I didn't have the strength the make another attempt to go back to Rillekon's Road. So I found the right command and had the Warhome bury itself. It was only supposed to dig itself out upon my verbal command. Or so I thought. It's very hard to understand the logic of Warhomes from their video-graphic control system. Anyway, the Warhome now safe and buried, I decided to go back to Manhattan to bring my life here to some closure. Bonnie drove me back that night, and my mind was racing. I didn't know what to do or what to think. And now... two months later... mere hours for me... Warhomes were free on this Earth, this poor innocent world... how could it have happened? I was very careful to remove the police uniform--I left the Warhome naked, and put on clothes that I had packed for the trip, even though they were much too small for me in my real body. I thought I had it all under control... that naked walk across the field in my superhero body... noises of the Warhome burying itself at my back... the world feeling unreal and flimsy around me... Then I remembered something... a loose thread on my uniform... Abigail had plucked it off while we were standing there on the platform of the Warhome... that thread... could that thread have really been a matter handler itself? And now... staring down at a sunny afternoon in Manhattan, Warhomes roaring down Broadway... two months... two months since I had spoken to Agatha and Ferrajalt... two months for Sleap Drassy to continue her attempts to pierce Gnoboslast... That night... the night I got back to Jersey City... Saturday night... I came here to the Hull offices... maybe to say goodbye to Comma, maybe to just be here one more time... I screamed and karate chopped at the fabric of this world. I was savage. I ripped it apart. In rage I fucking destroyed my little "real world". I screamed the scream of a world beginning or ending and I fucking ruined it. My scream increased in intensity until that weak little world was gone. And I was in a place of wild power. I saw Sleap Drassy doing her thing, trying to look outside the universe. Maybe she saw me, I don't know. I knew everything at that moment. The next moment, I heard the click of a phone hanging up. Agatha Petunia Wack turned around, the phone still in her hand, and she paused a moment before opening her mouth in amazement. "Daptin?" she said. "Yeah, hi," I said. "That was quick!" Prince Ferrajalt said from a comfy chair. "Ho!" a big guy, who I assumed was Darnazy Thonc, said. "I sense a slancewave hence! Most apocathery!" "How did you get back so quick?" Agatha asked. "It was very messy," I said. Ferrajalt chuckled and nodded. Just another wacky supernatual event here in Severe Repair. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 18: A ROAD MAP OF ARCTICA CUPLINE'S END ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 19: THE MILDRED CORK 15 Chapters--SR-220 thru SR-234 ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 19: THE MILDRED CORK CHAPTER 1 SR-220 ============================== SRmc001--"Belly" ============================== My body is made out of night and my eyes are two stars. Two deep amber stars. Yesterday the world changed--I could feel it. Right in the middle of the day, right in class, it hit me like a truck. I don't know if anyone else noticed it. Now, tonight, I'm on the streets of the city, the streets of Mav Saptax. I am new. I would have thought that a change like this would have come when the comet went by a few months ago. You could barely see it around here anyway. I was out there though, all night long, waiting, praying that the clouds would go away. Finally, we saw it for a few minutes, far in the distance, like the sun reflected on a ceiling by water. In the binoculars, I could see that much. Now, what a rush, what a feeling of freedom. This body, this body that I formed, that I sculpted out of the material of night, it is as perfect as my human body is imperfect. Tall, slim, muscular, perfect ass, perfect breasts, perfect legs, perfect hair. A hardbody. Thing is, it reflects no light--I must look like a silhouette, a shadow, to anyone looking. No need for clothes, nothing to hide. It feels good to walk around the city naked. And the tactility! All the senses of this body I've made are far sharper than my own dumpy human form. Touch, smell, hearing, sight--even the taste of sea air--all vastly improved. I've been roaming for hours. A few people have seen my glowing eyes in the darkness, but went on with their lives--not wanting to rock the boat, I guess. Not wanting to know what sort of monstrosity was behind them. What a body! I wondered what I'd feel like to another person in this form. In the dark, would I feel like true flesh? I wanted to find out. There were some guys at school I had a major crush on, who wouldn't give me the time of day as my fat little pimply human. But now, in this glorious form, I must have been more beautiful by an order of magnitude than any other girl at Shirt University. Only problem, you can't really see me, just my outline. Maybe there was some way to change this, to make myself visible in this form. But this was the first night, and there were a lot of unanswered questions. It started just after I went to bed. My roommate was out--again--sleeping over her boyfriend's, making me feel great as usual. I'd been feeling dizzy ever since the change, and I couldn't wait to get back from the library and just hit the hay. But just as I was slipping away, I woke back up right away--something was very wrong. It was... an awfully strange feeling in the region of my belly. A tickling sensation. I'd always felt something down there, but figured it was just a female thing; I figured it was something to do with making babies. But I'd never felt it so strong--and it was hot and tiring as well as tickling. There was something down there, and as the intensity of the feeling got stronger, I felt all energy drain out of me. I started feeling more tired than I've ever been. I was up on my elbows looking down at myself, and while I should have been panicking, I wasn't. Somehow, I knew it was alright. But I couldn't hold myself up anymore so I just collapsed and lied back. The feeling was really intense now, spread from between my legs to the bottom of my breasts. It felt sexually good, and I started to drift away, light headed, losing consciousness, blissful, euphoric. Then I was... somewhere else. I was... I was inside my own belly. I was in there seeking exit... through, through my bellybutton. I was a ball of energy with massive power. A ball of energy still waking up, still recovering from decades of dormancy. I was moving slowly, millimeter by millimeter, upward, toward my navel. In wonder, I shot out feelers to examine my surroundings--heart, uterus, vagina, kidneys, other stuff I wasn't familiar with. And I was so lucid, just like, like it was totally normal to be a little ping-pong-ball-sized ball of fire. So I pushed and pushed, ever so slowly, to the only realistic exit from the body--as I said, the bellybutton. And memories were coming back to me--another belly--my mother's. Flashes of a huge library of memories--searching for the right fetus to possess. Maybe spending years before I found the right one, but still a sense of urgency that I had to hide myself, had to possess a human body in order to escape some horrible fate. "Some downtime"--that's a phrase that came to mind. But now--it's not clear whether or not I was supposed to have awakened. I think it was the change in the world that made me wake up. I don't know how long I was to have stayed hidden--maybe the whole lifetime. But now, for better or for worse, I was out--and I didn't really care if I'd ever go back to that nasty human body again. I couldn't even bear the thought, being in such glory. But again, it was still the first night. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 19: THE MILDRED CORK CHAPTER 2 SR-221 ============================== SRmc002--"Night" ============================== In my human body's belly, I kept rising for a long time, until I finally approached the event horizon that was my bellybutton. It couldn't have been more than an hour. But in the few moments it took me to break free, I felt a catharthis like none I could have ever imagined. To be free of such a flawed body! It felt like stripping off horrible, sweaty clothes after being in them for far too long. Only, a lot better than that. A whole lot. So I was in my room--it was taxing at first to fly, but I was able to go about it, slowly at first, but easily. I had some senses in this form, but they were limited. More like psychic impressions than true senses. I looked down at the gross body I hated so much, looking like a stain upon reality, just snoring away. I felt an urgency to get outside into the natural night, so I headed for the window, which was closed, but found that I couldn't get through it. So I wasn't an immaterial phantom--I was really there, pressing against the glass and not getting anywhere. So I scanned around, and finally found my way out through the crack under the door--a bit of a squeeze In the hall I was still disoriented. I saw someone either coming into or going out of the main door, so I shot past them and into the aching infinity of the night. I don't know whether or not they saw me, nor did I care. Outside I felt a lot better, a lot more bright and energetic. I knew I was glowing brighter too--a lot brighter. Then I cut loose, and flew with all my might upward and into the wanting sky. I was virtually blind, but I knew it was right. I flew and flew and flew, until finally I hovered what must have been a few miles above the city. And I took in the night. What I mean is, I reached out and felt it, caressed it, and started gathering it, in great sheets. I started gathering it--how it was happening I couldn't say, but I collected a great amount of it and felt, for the moment, satisfied. It was, I realized, what I was so hungry for. Then I had a flash of realization--I had to make myself a body out of night. It was incredible--all the possibilities flashed before me--all the bodies I could make. Unicorn, fiend, eagle, troll, griffin, manatee (!!), satyr, centaur, lamp dainty, elf, fairy, human... I knew it had to be human. I quickly decided it would be female and perfect. Maybe 6-foot-2, luxurious, long hair, shapely form, strong, fast--all that. Perfect. Now that I had the design before me, I took my bundle of night and spread it out in all directions, until there were sheets of it extended for several cubic miles. Now I could begin the work of weaving the body. It came naturally to me, and I worked hour after hour, slowly sculpting the beautiful thing of the supple stuff of night. Inside and out, what a wonderful creation. As I reached the final stages of the weaving, the body began to slowly descend earthward. And as I put the final touches on it, it landed softly on some wet grass in front of a corporate center. It lay there peaceful, breathing, and I felt myself all over it. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 19: THE MILDRED CORK CHAPTER 3 SR-222 ============================== SRmc003--"Pioneering" ============================== All that was left was to possess it. But this time, I didn't go into its belly. Instead, I drifted over to its sweet open mouth and went in. The inner anatomy of the beauty was different from human, because from the top of the throat I pushed my way upward into the head cavity, where a brain would be in a human. There, I split myself into two parts--still connected, but distinct. Two little balls of fire. As these two, I nestled myself into the eye sockets, and took it. I took the beauty. And suddenly I was in there--in that wonderful body. And I knew my name was no longer Nancy Smollan, but Trulufog. And as Trulufog--"Truly", I think I'll call myself--I opened my incandescent eyes and felt the cold, wet grass beneath me. I stood up, shakily at first. The structure of this body was still sorting itself out. It felt still and off-balance. So I started walking--limping really--all naked and wonderful in the magic of the night--the night I was now made of. At that point, I was really wondering whether or not I'd ever need to return to my unacceptable human form. I sure hoped not. But like I keep saying, it was the first night, and there was a lot I didn't know. After walking around a bit, I started to feel a little more integrated and well-oiled. I got to a little lake or pond or something, and looked at myself in it. Wow. Just like I imagined--a majestic shadow--the epitome of feminine beauty--with two deep amber/orange glowing eyes. Cool. Really cool. I tried to fly for the next few minutes, but it just wasn't happening. I thought that as a part of the night, I should be able to fly up into it. But it was a no-go. I could leap pretty far into the air--20 or 30 feet--but I couldn't fly. Oh well, can't ask for everything. And during the whole blooming that night, I had this strong feeling that I was way out of bounds, that it shouldn't be happening, that no one knew about it, that I was totally on my own. That stabbing, that pioneering, felt good. I started walking toward downtown Mav Saptax then. My bare feet could feel very nuance of every speck of everything on the ground, but the night I was made of was pliant and durable--kind of like rubber. It felt kind of weird, but I knew I wasn't going to get cut or anything. Even walking over broken glass, like I did a few times, was nothing to worry about. I wandered, amazed how easy it was to avoid detection. So many dark places to blend into--the only way I could be seen was in front of a well-lit something. And even in moderately-lit areas, I was all but invisible. Except for my eyes, that it. It was late, but being a college town, there were still some folks about. A few people definitely saw my eyes, but like I said, they might have stood in wonder for a few seconds, but they resisted the temptation to investigate further. At one point, I myself thought I saw two glowing eyes--light blue/cyan ones. I'm pretty sure I did. But it was no use--I tried to follow them, but there was nothing there. Was it another being like me, awakened by the change in reality? I guess it must have been, but I didn't let it bother me too much. I was already hot and bothered--the prospect of losing my virginity--even if it was to be in this new body, was thrilling me. How to do it, though--how to hide the weirdness of this body... A blind guy? Nah. Too hard to find, and not much fun. A drunk guy? Yeah. The next day, he'd have to doubt his memories. So I headed for a part of town I was pretty sure had a bunch of bars and clubs. I felt ashamed of it--of looking for sex right away in this glorious new body--but I just had to prove to myself that indeed it was my body--my human body--and not ME--that kept me from the loving arms of a man. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 19: THE MILDRED CORK CHAPTER 4 SR-223 ============================== SRmc004--"Truly Makes It" ============================== Soon I found the perfect spot--a club--"Sgootchie's"--that was just closing. Had to have been about 2 AM then. I stood right by the door, in the shadows, and examined all the people coming out. A mixed bunch--some not too drunk at all. Then I saw him. Rom Jeffer. One of the guys I had a crush on, from my anthropology class. And luck was with me tonight--he stumbled in my direction, almost right into my arms. As he regained his balanced, I grabbed him and pulled him to me. From his breath, I could tell he was totally wasted. Good. "I want you," I said in a low voice--and what a voice it was! Deep, rich, a little husky--and totally sexy. I had my eyes closed so as not to startle him. So I couldn't tell exactly how he was reacting--but I took his hand and brought it to my left breast. He began squeezing it immediately. "Whoah," he exclaimed in a blast of alcohol breath. I opened my eyes, and before he could react, I brought his lips to mine and French kissed him. It was a pretty good kiss. Then I let go of his head and looked for his reaction. He was totally confused. "D-Donna?" he said. "No, my name is Truly," I said, reveling in that voice. "Why don't you come with me, Rom--we can do it in the grass." His expression wavered from joy to confusion to caution, like a mass of jelly. "Okay," he finally said. So I took his hand and led him down the street, wanting to get back to that grassy lawn, but realizing it was too far. So I just took him into an alley, unzipped his pants, and started playing with him. And before I knew it, I was being fucked. It felt good. This new body had all the sexual response of a human body, and more. It certainly did feel wonderful--all 30 seconds of it. I felt a huge amount of his stuff spray inside of me, then he pulled out, stumbled backwards, and fell on his ass. "Whoah," he said again. I frowned down at him, on the verge of tears. Could this body cry?, I wondered. He started playing with himself and nodding off. Great. Great first encounter. I turned and left him there, hoping he'd be embarrassed the next day, someone finding him there with his big dick hanging out of his pants. Oh well, what was I expecting? So I walked off, but a few blocks later, I bent over, put my hands on a brick wall for support, and expulsed Rom's seed from me, and let it drop to the street, where it belonged. So I wandered. It felt so good just to walk around. I felt great. Many thoughts passed through my mind. Did I just lose my virginity? I don't think this body had any hymen to break, but so what? My human hymen was already broken, though I never had sex. That didn't make me any less a virgin, I didn't think. Horseback riding and stuff, you know. No, I did certainly have sex just then. But to think--since I existed before the birth of my human body, wouldn't I have had sex before then? It seemed certain, though my memories were hardly there. So what qualified as losing virginity? Having sex as a human? Somehow, with a body made of night, I didn't really matter to me anymore. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 19: THE MILDRED CORK CHAPTER 5 SR-224 ============================== SRmc005--"Different" ============================== I reveled in my new body. Absolutely superior in every aspect. I could see no reason to return, but what would happen? If I left it there, in the bed, in a coma like that--someone would certainly find it and rush it to a hospital--my family would be worried sick, and they'd do all sorts of things to try and revive it. Hmm. Maybe I could just destroy it, and then metamorphose my nightbody into a simulacrum of my human one? Thus being able to switch back and forth from Nancy to Truly at will? I liked the idea, but somehow, I knew it wouldn't work. I had this fear of the dawn, and as I found out later, I was all too right. In my wanderings, I passed a payphone, so I decided to call one of my best friends, Ala. It must have been 3 or 4 AM by then, but I figured she'd be okay about it. Since I had no money, I called collect. "Hello?" came Ala's groggy voice. An operator spoke. "Collect call from Nancy." "Huh?" "Collect call from Nancy--do you accept the charges?" "Nancy--Nancy Smollan? Uh, I accept..." "Go ahead." "Hi Ala," I said in my new voice. "This is Nancy." "Doesn't sound like Nancy..." "I know. Listen--something's happened to me. Something amazing. I just had to talk to someone about it." "Who is this? Where's Nancy?" "This IS Nancy," I said, realizing that my voice was nowhere even in the same realm as my human's. "Come on Ala--I've changed. I mean, REALLY changed. Look--ask me anything--I'll prove myself to you." "What could have happened to change your voice like that?" "Come on! You gotta believe me. How 'bout those pictures you took--of you and your boyfriend from home--how many people know about that?" "Nancy--I mean, whoever you are--what's this all about?" "Ala, you have to believe me. I need to talk to someone about this--so that I know I'm not going crazy. Something happened between me and Rom Jeffers." She paused. "What?" she finally said. "Never mind now! Just--just can you come and pick me up? I'm downtown. It'll take me an hour to walk back." "Oh no! There's no way I'm gonna do that! You think I'm stupid? I have no idea who you are!" "Come on Ala, I'm not asking for that much!" But I realized I was. In her shoes, there's no way I would drive into this creepy area on the request of a person of unknown origin. "It is too much," she said after a pause. "Okay," I said. "So I'll walk back. But I'm coming to see you." She paused again. "Is this really Nancy?" Yes, it is! But--but now that I've changed... I just don't want you to be scared of me." "What do you mean?" "I mean, I look... different. Totally different. Maybe even scary." "Look--if you are Nancy--I don't know what's going on, but--but just--come if you have to but I'm not gonna be alone." "Come on Ala! I don't want to involve anyone else!" "My roommate's already awake and hearing all this." "Okay, F'jinjy is okay--but no one else, alright?" "Why?" "When you see me you'll understand!" "I don't--okay, okay. When are you gonna be here?" "Should be about an hour," I said, then considered the possibility of using my leaping ability to travel faster. "But maybe a lot sooner. Whenever. Just be ready to answer your door. Or..." "What?" "Maybe I should just come in the window." "Why?" "Aren't there video cameras in your hall? After what happened to Susan last year?" "Yeah..." "Well I don't want to be on camera." "Why not? "Because, I look really weird, okay? I'm totally dark, and I have glowing eyes! Okay! Let me get going. I hope you're going to help me!" "Whatever," Ala said. "See you soon," I said, and hung up. Was this wise? Letting her in on my secret? I didn't know--but part of me was seeking some way to prove this all real--if I had to get back into my human body by dawn, as I felt I would, I wanted some proof that this all happened, that it would happen again the next night. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 19: THE MILDRED CORK CHAPTER 6 SR-225 ============================== SRmc006--"Velvet Maybe" ============================== The trip back to college was fast--maybe 15 minutes. I tried leaping, and while it worked, I found I could run at exceedingly great speeds--maybe around 50 or 60 mph. Soon I was back on campus. As I passed my dorm, I resisted the urge to check on my human body. First of all, I had no keys, and secondly, I feared such an encounter. I hated that body so--I didn't want to be trapped in it ever again. Soon I got to Ala's window--about 10 feet above the ground, and I gently jumped up and pulled myself onto the sill. I was so quiet that the people inside didn't even see me. It was Ala, F'jinjy, and some tall, goofy guy from their floor, whose name I didn't know. I knocked. The three of them looked over and became horrified. I could imagine how I looked--a crouching phantom with unearthly eyes. "It's me!" I said. "What the hell is that?" the guy said. "I... I don't know," Ala said. "She said she looked like... like that... but I didn't... I didn't believe her." "Should we let it in?" F'jinjy asked in her high-pitched voice. "I'm Nancy!" I said. "Not 'it'!" "Look guys," Ala said, breathing heavily. "I don't know if it's all that smart, but I'm gonna let her in." "Don't--" the guy began. "Look!" Ala said. "If she meant us harm, I'm sure she would have broken in my now." Then she opened the window, and I jumped lithley into the room. It felt kind of strange, standing there naked--especially in front of a guy. And in the stark fluorescent light of the room, my outline was very distinct. Still, my features could only be discerned in profile. I kept that in mind. The three back away from me and silently stared. "Look guys," I said. " I know this must be really weird for you. It's weird for me too. But I'm the same Nancy you've always known--just in a new body." "What happened?" the guy said hesitantly. "I---changed," I said. "My other body is still in my room. This is... like an extra body." "You... you look so weird," F'jinjy said, a look of fright tinged with fascination on her face. "I know. The thing is, this body is made of pure night. My eyes--my eyes are what I truly am. Haha--and that's my name--my new name--Truly." "Truly?" Ala said. "Yeah--in this body, that's my name." "Why?" Ala said. "Because--it's my real name. Nancy is just--just my human name." "You're not human?" the guy asked. I turned around so that they could get a better look at my shape. Heck, I was proud of it, why not show it off. The guy's eyes widened. "You see me as a shadow because my body reflects no light at all," I said. "It's MADE of night. If you touch me, you'll see what I mean." "Yeah?" F'jinjy said, clearly interested. "Yes F'jinjy," I said, extending my hand. "Come on, I won't bite." "O-okay," she said, and she cautiously reached out and touched my hand. "Weird!" she said, smiling and looking into my eyes. "It feels--warm. And good. Like... like velvet maybe." "Uh-huh," I said. The other two dared to touch me also, and somehow the feeling of my night flesh put them at ease. Soon I was sitting and telling them the whole story--everything. I felt so uninhibited--I just spilled my guts. I could tell the guy--Tovo Tovvic--was getting pretty hot and bothered when I told them the part about me and Rom. But why not--as Truly, I was gorgeous. Too bad he couldn't see me like you'd see a human. Oh well. I guess I couldn't tell him to touch me--it'd be too cruel--to do that and not let him have sex with me. But who knows--the way I was feeling the thought did cross my mind. And he wasn't all that dorky looking. And--maybe he could go out with me in my human form as well! Hmm... But that would have to wait. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 19: THE MILDRED CORK CHAPTER 7 SR-226 ============================== SRmc007--"Daystab" ============================== As our little get-together wore on, I became more and more aware of the approaching dawn. Around 4:45 I started to feel really drained. Looking outside, the first faint glow of dawn could be seen. I dreaded that glow. I felt that I couldn't stand in the face of it. For a while, I didn't let it bother me, but soon I started to panic a little--there was no way I could deal with the light of day--I had to do something--but what? Hide. I had to hide my nightbody away, shelter it from the light of the Sun. But how? "Guys," I said, "I don't think I can take the light out there. I have to--I have to try and do something. Okay--if this works, I'll be a... a ball of light--a little ball of light, like I told you. I probably won't be able to communicate with you, but you have to lead me back to my room! I can't move through solid objects, but..." My breathing was getting strained. I couldn't take much more. "...but if you open the door to the dorm, I can... I can fit under my door, and hopefully get back into my... my human body... I..." A little bit of sun was just making its way to the horizon, and I had to act. I shut my night eyelids and willed myself back into my energy ball form. It worked--I WAS my eyes. Quickly, I merged the two eyes into one ball of fire, and surveyed the situation with the nightbody. Yes... It was clear to me what had to happen, so I made it happen. The nightbody shifted in an instant and was a two-dimensional plane, bisecting me. Then it shifted again, and it was a 1-D line, going straight through me. Then, in its final shift, it became a point, at the center of me. After that I felt better. The sunlight didn't bother me as much in this form, but I wanted desperately to be back in my human belly, protected from the harsh daystab. My senses were again diminished to visions and impressions. But my friends did lead me out of the dorm and back to my dorm, thank goodness. I shot underneath the door, and headed right for my human bellybutton. It was easy to squirm back in and get settled. It felt so good to be back inside there. And before I knew it, my consciousness slipped back into to my human form. I opened my non-glowing, human eyes, looked at the painfully familiar surroundings of my room, with the posters of guys and stuff, and then went right to sleep. I was awakened soon thereafter by a knocking on my door, and I knew it must have been my friends. So I got up, and--holy crap--every muscle in my body was shot through with exquisite pain. It was as if I did the world's most exercise the day before. I winced and limped over to the door. Through the peephole, I saw that it was indeed my friends, so I let them in. "You made it back?" Ala asked. "Yes," I said, my voice weak and broken. I cleared my throat, but even this simple acted was trying and painful. "You look terrible!" Tovo said. "Thanks," I replied, as I turned and headed back to bed. "No," he said, "I mean, you look really tired and, and, and worn out." "I know this body is ugly," I said as I crawled back into bed. "No it's not," Tovo replied. I winced again as I found myself a comfortable position in bed. "So you're back?" Ala asked. "Yeah. Back in... this belly... here." "So what was that that happened?" Tovo asked. "When you folded up or something?" "Yeah, that was intense!" F'jinjy added. "I don't know really," I said, coughing. "A way to... collapse... that body... down to a single point. For storage." Ala sat down on the bed and put her hand on my side. "Are you sure you're okay?" she said. "No. I feel like I just got beat up by a gang of thugs. I hurt all over." Ala stared down at me with her big, wide eyes. "You want to go to the infirmary?" "No!" I yelled, then fell into a coughing fit. "I know... I pretty much know what this is. My body and spirit are out of synch. Pretty traumatic switching bodies, you know?" "So where is the body now?" F'jinjy asked. "In my belly," I said. "At the center of the... the fireball that is the real me." "Can you bring it back?" Tovo asked. "We'll find out tomorrow night," I said. "Do you think," F'jinjy said slowly, "that I might have a fireball in me?" I regarded her. "I don't think so... but there's definitely something weird... or strange... going on with you." "There is," she said, then she looked around at the others. "I've been keeping this secret too long. I've been dying to tell someone, and now... well, here goes. Have you ever heard of a place called Felptash...?" -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 19: THE MILDRED CORK CHAPTER 8 SR-227 ============================== SRmc008--"The Mildred Cork" ============================== Why was there a scroll on my bed? It was just another of those unanswerable questions you get so much in college. But... there was a note attached to it--all smeared with ink--but it was legible. It said... "Walt--Think you might find this interesting--SS" and there was a smiley face at the bottom. Huh. SS--had to be Sally Sust, the girl I had such a crush on. I really loved her--I even admitted it to her. She wasn't too cooperative though. Hell--just cuz you like someone doesn't mean they'll like you back, right? Okay, the scroll. Was this some kind of joke? I untied the string around it and started to unfurl it. Wow. It felt ancient. But incredibly sturdy. Weird. The first thing it said, in big letters at the top was MILDRED. Underneath that, it said, "Regarding the properties of the newest frelmerhaze-standevice out of Gremdoza. Condensed from the Hapstaccia Fober XIV." Okay... "What is in form a common cork contains the delightful attribute. Vexing in its framepoint, the consequence describes the beauteous life. "Mildred is a fine lass, taller than a tall man, solid, as powerful as an ij press. Her true face, golden flow of locks, skin like sunlight, delightful breasts, and shapely form (!) The sting here: she is absolutely loyal to one man--you! "Starting with the cork, but the merest of shavings is needed. This, in contact with your bare skin, gets hot. Here is the ident impress--here, Mildred will get to know you inside and out--even before she comes to be! "Mildred's loyalty and willingness cannot be understated. She willingly satisfies your every carnal whim. Make no doubt. For you or whomever you deem. Many users initially find this Mildred's greatest function. "She will never tire, though she sleeps. Never starve, though she eats. Never lack for air, though she breathes. Never die, so long as you do live. Never fail in her devotion to you, save for your own safety. Never menstruate or get with child, though she is otherwise everything female. "In times of emergency, Mildred will lactate. Thus with Mildred you shall never starve or thirst. She can perpetuate this ad infinitum with no sustenance herself--such is her powernature. "Mildred may marry, but only you. Others will ever take her as a woman, nothing more. Many find it impossible to maintain another relationship with Mildred around. Marrying Mildred is heartily recommended by this humble scholar. "She has heart, spirit, fire, personality, awareness, and things of that nature in abundance. She is the perfect companion. She fits in with society, loves and obeys you, is impervious to all forms of damage, and will melt your heart. "In the event of your death, Mildred will become a mortal and will live out her remaining years in quiet mourning and contemplation, doing acts of charity and kindness whenever possible. "The Mildred Cork was retrieved from the Blongs Vault in 5 by Jorfa Kield, aggist. But the barest shaving is required to generate a Mildred. Once it touches your bare flesh, it gets hot. Once hot, put it in a large body of water. Mildred will rise out of the water one day later, and seek you out without fail. She always knows where you are. "I have had my Mildred for 61 years now. I have found that her milk has remarkable rejuvenating powers, and though a man of 112, I appear a man of 35. "If you are ready to commit your life to finding a shave of The Mildred Cork, rest ye. For this is the caveat--only one Mildred may exist at a time. The cork shaving will not get hot if there is another Mildred somewhere--it just will not work. "But ah! This is Sweptim, and the one-Mildred rule applies to each Earth. So as long as you find an Earth with no Mildred, you got it. "At the time of this writing, I have no information whatever as to the location of The Mildred Cork. I took my shaving from the Cork itself, but soon thereafter it changed hands. I heard rumors decades ago that Slont-Ag 88, wretched tyrant of Huplomic, possessed it for a time. "This won't get you anywhere though. "Now so as you don't eye all corks strangely for the rest of your life, let me just impart a brief description of it. It identifying nature is not its size or shape, but its color. It is pale blue with flecks of copper in it. It is this colorscheme you should keep an eye out for." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 19: THE MILDRED CORK CHAPTER 9 SR-228 ============================== SRmc009--"Milk" ============================== I continued unrolling the scroll as I neared the end of the text. But when I fully unfurled it, I noticed something scrawled at the bottom, in red magic marker. LOOK IN YOUR TOP DRAWER What? I felt a lump in my throat and my heart raced. I skimmed the rest of the text in a few seconds and then looked up at my chest of drawers. My mind was racing. What was this all about? Could it--could it be true? I heard some weird rumors about Sally, but... I got up and crossed to the closed drawer. If it was true--I knew it probably wasn't, but if it was--was it some way for her to get me off her back? I mean, I told her a few times how I felt about her, but she just acted weird and blew it off. So she was giving me some sort of perfect sex partner as a consolation prize? If it was true, it'd he one helluva consolation prize... I opened the drawer and saw a little clear plastic bag. With something inside. I lifted it, my hand trembling. There was something in it. I looked closer. Something... a little speck... light blue, with copper tinges. My face got hot and I felt as anxious as I ever had. That scroll--it seemed so ancient, so legitimate... With great anticipation, I opened the bag and reached in. The few moments it took seemed like hours. Then I touched it--it felt good somehow. It calmed and reassured me, and I felt a higher level of awareness, albeit unfocused. And after a few seconds, the thing began to heat up. I smiled. At that I point, I knew it was for real. I just had this feeling. You know? So I took the cork shaving out of the bag and rolled it back and forth between my fingers. Yes. It was getting hotter and hotter. And I started feeling high--I don't know if it was from my euphoric expectation or from some magical property it possessed. Whatever, it felt real good. Just imagine. A girl like that. Always there for you. And willing to have sex with you whenever you want it. Yow. I got an erection just thinking about it. I was still a virgin, and very anxious to get past it. If this worked... wow. But where would she live? In my room? What about Roy? Yeah, in the scroll it said she'd have sex with anyone else, too. Well, no way was I gonna let her sleep with Roy. He has enough real girls for himself. No--somehow I'd have to get rid of Roy, get him to live somewhere else--with one of his girlfriends in their dorm room or something. Or--maybe Mildred could find some lost corner of Thatterine for us to live in. Yeah. I don't think girls are allowed to live in my dorm anyway. If they ever found out, that is... Anyway, I needed a large body of water and a day. The day was no problem, but--just how large a body of water was this guy talking about in the scroll? Certainly not a bathtub or a sink... No. But what the heck--the ocean was just a 20 minute drive, over to Mav Saptax. I needed gas in my car though, and I needed money for the gas, so I had to find my cash card in my room somewhere, so... Maybe I should just call Sally. So that's what I did. Got her answering machine, but I didn't leave a message. Oh well--I got to it and eventually found the cash card, the Cork shaving safely back in its bag. Man I turned my room upside down looking for the card! It was an unholy mess. Soon, after getting some cash and some gas, I was on the road to Mav Saptax. It was getting dark and there was a lot of traffic. I had the bag in my shirt pocket, ready to defend it with my life. My head was swimming with Mildred fantasies. I prayed to the air around me that it would work. I needed Mildred. She was just what I needed. Just the thought of that milk... I admit. I had to masturbate before just to calm myself down. The sexual promise of it was overwhelming me. Goddamn! And now---the ocean came into view! How beautiful it seemed. And what a beautiful thing it would produce... -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 19: THE MILDRED CORK CHAPTER 10 SR-229 ============================== SRmc010--"Cyan" ============================== I headed for a little park with a shorefront. Kind of a crummy place--no sand to really speak of, just rocks and overgrowth. But there was this pier kind of thing that went out, like this metal thing, and at the end would be a pretty good place to throw the shaving; it was pretty deep and stuff. It took a while to get there, cuz the traffic was so bad. But I finally made it, just as the sun as completing its set. There were a few people about, but not many. A bunch of dog walkers. Very average conditions. So I went to the end of the pier, my anticipation electric. There was a little bit of a breeze, so I was exceedingly careful opening the bag and grasping the shaving again. Huh. It was still hot--as hot as it had been before I put it back in the bag. Huh. Guess it was primed and rarin' to go. I closed my eyes and reached out with my mind--to see if anything came to me. Not much did--just a hungry feeling. A hunger for the mammoth body of water before me. The breeze shifted seaward, and I let the shaving go. I watched as it arced and then hit the water. When it did, a thin beam of white light shot up from it, and continued rising for a few seconds before it faded. I took this to mean that it was working. Whew. I stood there for a long time, waiting to see if there'd be any more such signs. The scroll said, it would take a day for Mildred to form. I felt like waiting there for her the whole time. I couldn't imagine the thought of going to sleep that night, no way. Maybe I would just stay here--as long as the police didn't chase me away. Yeah. About forty minutes later there were still no further signs, it was really dark out, and there wasn't a soul in sight. The sounds of the sea and a nearby highway came to my ears. It was a pleasant cool, the kind of weather you just want to luxuriate in. And why not? The cool supernatural stuff I'd always craved was finally starting to happen. Mildred would be a wonderful companion on the roads yet to be travelled... Oh. I was getting tired. I though I saw two glowing blue eyes by the rocks. Huh. Coulda sworn. Could it be... Could it be Mildred--could she have finished early? I didn't know--it just didn't synch. It was so sudden. It could have been--I don't know--reflection of car lights off of blue glass? No way, but I convinced myself it was something like that. Still--it could be some other supernatural force associated with Mildred... I closed my eyes, sat down, and began to fantasize about what I'd do with Mildred as soon as we were alone together. Oh yes. This calmed me down a lot, or at least, made some pretty loud mental white noise to block out the apprehension over what I saw. But yeah--I was gonna be all over her. I imagined just what she'd look like. My tongue would be everywhere on her--I wouldn't miss a single spot. Oh yeah... I licked my lips and wriggled around a little. Then I heard something. Or FELT something. I stopped wriggling and retreated my tongue into the safety of my mouth. I kept my eyes closed with the brief idea of feigning sleep, but a shadow crossed my eyelids and the value of pretending to be asleep was questionable at best. So I opened my eyes. A thing stood above me, only a few feet away. A massive black shape, with two glowing cyan eyes. It looked--I don't know. It looked like a minotaur or a devil or a grim porter or something. I remained motionless and just looked up at it. Could this be Mildred? Was it some sick joke, played by the scroll guy, or even Sally Sust? Maybe she gave me the scroll on one Cork and switched it for another? Why, though? I thought about just jumping into the water. That would mean standing up, turning my back to the thing, climbing over the railing, and jumping off. If it had bad intentions, I didn't think I'd make it through all these steps. I tried though. Didn't get too far. As soon as I made a move, the thing was all over me. It picked me up and then threw me down. Damn it hurt. Then it--I don't know--punched me on the side of my torso. Unbelievable pain. I tried to fight back, but it only amounted to insignificant flailing. Then... my hair! Ow! Pulling my hair... no... LIFTING me by the hair... I looked into those horrific eyes for a moment before the creature delivered a powerful blow to the side of my head. That was it for staying conscious--goodbye. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 19: THE MILDRED CORK CHAPTER 11 SR-230 ============================== SRmc011--"Denim" ============================== Walt was having a nightmare about terrible things. Monsters that rip you apart and eat you. Houses where you get lost and never find your way out. The pain of the masses of the dead. The process of regaining consciousness was slow. He was aware mostly of numbness. Then of height--he was way up in the air. His arms--above his head and bearing his weight. Below--hundreds of feet to the ground. One sneaker on and one foot bare and bloody. His belt undone, pants unbuttoned, zipper halfway down, pants starting to fall off. He couldn't believe it, and the jolt of adrenaline his waking up shot through him wracked him with pain. He couldn't believe it--he was hanging from a brick smokestack. A really, really tall brick smokestack. He looked up to see if there was any smoke coming of it the stack, but he couldn't really do it. He wanted to know, cuz he was concerned that if this was one of the abandoned factories of the area, there might not be anyone around to see him. What happened--THE MILDRED CORK!--he had tossed it into the ocean at Mav Saptax. Then... he was attacked by something... a massive dark shape... like a grim porter from mythology... with those burning light blue eyes... It had beaten the shit out of him. Now he felt lost. Crying as best he could, Walt faced the gaping void of air in front of him as if it were the first hill of a roller coaster, right after a long, slow, clickety-clack rise to the top. He didn't feel like himself--he felt like he was somewhere else, looking down at a miserable, wounded human being shackled to a smokestack. What was it that happened the other day? Everything went haywire. Walt thought it was him going crazy, so many little things turned blatantly different, everything feeling so... alien. He thought about this for a little while, and then realized it was helping him keep his mind off the pain. But of course, as soon as he realized this, the soothing effect was erased. He spent several minutes in extreme discomfort, trying fruitlessly to determine just what sort of bonds were holding him up. He couldn't really feel his wrists or upper arms--it felt like his arms were inanimate straps of leather holding him up. Also, the situation being as it was, he wasn't too keen on the idea of breaking free, being that he'd plummet to his death. After a little while more, Walt lost consciousness for an indeterminate period of time. Then he thought he woke up, and he couldn't tell if it was a dream or a hallucination, but he saw something really cool. It was on the horizon--a Devil and a God--each of them miles tall. The devil horned and red like you might think, the God white robed and bearded like you might think. The two were fairly near each other, limbering up and preparing, Walt knew, for their fight that would settle things once and for all, but also destroy the world in the process. And they were so sure. So confident. Taking their positions. But then, this hot girl dressed in denim bursts out of the sky like lightning, landing between the two, and ruining the plan of those primal forces. The Devil and the God looked at the landscape around them in horror--knowing what will happen if they can't destroy it. But as the bizarre future starts to take shape, the hot girl just keeps laughing her head off, and eventually, the God and the Devil shuffle off their separate ways, dejected. And the landscape kept turning weirder and weirder... Then Walt recovered his senses with a start. Damn. Still hanging from the smokestack and in excruciating pain. Why couldn't that have been part of the hallucination, too? Mildred. Would she come and save him? Was it... was it the next day, or the day after? If it was the day after, then Mildred should be fully-formed--should have the night before, at dusk... No. It was the next day. He hadn't been out for 36 hours, it felt more like 12. So Mildred wouldn't be born for another 12 hours or so. Walt closed his eyes. Okay. It wouldn't be so bad. Just think of having a Mildred--it's worth a day of torture. It'd be worth more than a day of torture--a lot more. So he'd wait. He'd wait for Mildred to come and save him. Hopefully, before whatever put him here came back. So Walt felt a little sense of relief that he'd put his near-future in order. It was a feeling that lasted about forty seconds. Cuz whatever it was that was holding him was failing was breaking loose. He moved down--just a little at first, but then more and more. Until... He broke free of his bonds and started his almost certainly fatal fall to the ground below. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 19: THE MILDRED CORK CHAPTER 12 SR-231 ============================== SRmc012--"Humorless & Wasted, but Still Beautiful" ============================== This is Walt. I don't know where I am. Last thing I remember, I was chained to a smokestack. But my bonds came loose, and I started to fall. Huh. I remember feeling like as if it were an amusement park ride--just close your eyes and hold on tight and it'll be over in a minute. But the last thing I remember was thinking, "It IS over--my life." And I thought about how it sucked that I'd never get to meet my Mildred. Then... what? I had the sense that a lot of time had passed, but I was still kind of incoherent. But I was--I don't know. It was dark and quiet, but I could feel myself breathing. Well, kind of. It was like... oh shit... like I was paralyzed or something. I mean, I felt like I was in my body, but... I mean, I was awake, but I couldn't do anything--like I had no leverage between me and my body. I couldn't even open my eyes. But I felt the breathing... so I was alive... good. Or was it? I started to panic, but it felt weird. No adrenaline rush, no chills, no coldflash. But it was still panic. Would I spend my life paralyzed? Or worse--paralyzed, deaf, and blind? Maybe--maybe there were people around me right now? But with no connection to the outside, I'm totally cut off from them. God. I felt so bad, thinking about my parents and my brother and sister. What they must be going through. They could be inches away, but how would I know? I never heard of a case like this. I mean, I've heard of people being braindead, but they gotta be able to detect these thoughts! Unless... god... what if thoughts are a function of the soul and not the brain? They could be reading me braindead, but I'm not! Crap. I wonder if my parents will decide to pull the plug. I wouldn't put it past them. Jeez! I tried hard to move, to yell, to blink my eyes, to moan, to THINK hard enough to register on their machines. Then I just quit. If this is it, this is it. I thought about summer day camp, for some reason. Pretty cool place. They gave you beads for doing all these different activities. Man, the counselors seemed so old then. What could they have been--17, 18? I don't know. But it was cool in the woods. Cool in the woods... I decided to stop worrying and just think about pleasant things in my past. If I was to face death, then so be it. I'm not the first, and I won't be the last. So I relaxed (kind of strange, relaxing without any physical feedback) and drifted. Thinking about this one girl at camp... I had no chance with her, I was such a dork, but just to look at her, it was heaven... And later that year, after school had started, they sent us a brochure for the camp, and there was this AWESOME photo of the girl there. You know, just like a sample of kids having fun. But those eyes--so deep, so piercing... I used to look at it and try to psychically contact the girl--even convinced myself that it was working. And I'd carry on these conversations in my head, between me and Erika Stalker. I always thought she had such a cool name... I knew that I was making it all up, so I wasn't totally insane. But it was a pretty deep mind game. Then I'd kind of put it on the line, and ask her if she was near a phone, and she said she was. Then I told her to call my number. She said she was doing it. And I'd look at the phone and get a momentary rush--what if this actually worked? I was in no shape to talk to a girl for REAL! But of course, the phone never rang. I asked her telepathically what happened, and she said she must have dialed the wrong number, cuz some mean old guy answered, and I theorized that it must be hard to communicate numbers via telepathy. Huh. Pleasant thoughts from the past--I don't know if that's so pleasant. Schizo childhood madness. "Are you there?" WHAT? A voice... a real voice, back here, back in the darkness... a beautiful, deep, rich, female voice... "Hello?" I thought as loud as I could. "Is that you, Walter Jay Mota?" "Yes. That's me," I thought, my mind racing wildly. Erika? Could my recollection of the event have actually...? I mean, maybe in this state, my psychic powers were strengthened... "Thank goodness you're alive. Things didn't look too good for a while there." "What?" "I'm sorry. You must be awfully confused. Let me get you up to speed on what's been happening. Firstly, I'm Mildred. You brought me forth two days ago." "Mildred!" I thought. "You... I... What happened?" "You had apparently fallen off the smokestack. I sensed you there, so I came. Your soul and body were bound together by a safety spell." "A what?" "A safety spell. You see, since I can perform advanced healing magicks, I can bring you back from many injuries which would otherwise be instantly fatal. The safety spell, which was cast on you as soon as you imprinted the cork, serves to freeze body and soul after the injury--keeping you alive, though in the barest way." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 19: THE MILDRED CORK CHAPTER 13 SR-232 ============================== SRmc013--"Inside" ============================== "So... I'm alive?" "Well... technically you are. Unfortunately, your body, at the moment, is nowhere near a state of functioning. I can repair it, but it'll take time." "So I'm trapped here, in my ruined body? For how long--" But then, Mildred opened her eyes. And so did I. "Wait just a second..." I thought. I saw a sunlit room--it seemed to be morning--but the visual signal was kind of indistinct. "I had to put your soul somewhere," Mildred said. "So I put it inside me for the time being." Then she got up and sat on the side of the bed, giving me a rush of sensory data, all felt in very muffled and confused way. But yes... yes... I was INSIDE Mildred's body! I could feel it. Mildred continued. "I'm sure you feel disoriented, but don't worry. Your soul just needs to get in synch with this body. Once it does, I'll even let you gain control and take it for a spin." "What?" "You'll be able to operate my body as if it was your own." "Whoah... whoah... now wait. This is sounding kind of permanent. I mean..." "No, not at all! Maybe just for a few months, depending on how far along you want to go back into your body." "MONTHS?" "Yes. You've no idea the extent of your injures. Right now, I'm just working on a spell to stimulate your body's most rudimentary of nervous systems, the automatic. It's a slow process." "But... but... what about my family? My friends? My schoolwork?" "That we must attend to. But understand--if not for me, you would be dead, and think of how your people would feel about that!" "I guess, but... Hey, where are we, anyway?" "I have rented a house," she said. "How'd you manage that?" "True, Walter, I rose out of the ocean waves naked and possessionless. But with a little bit of well-directed magick, it's amazing what you can do." "Huh. So, uh, where's my body?" "In the other room." "Can I see it?" "I don't think that's a good idea." "Why not?" "Because of the state it's in." "What do you mean?" "I mean, Walter, that in its current state, and YOUR current state, it may cause you great distress." "Uh... You know, I'm like DEAD and inside someone else's BODY. Of course I'm, like, distressed!" "You're not dead, dear. At least, not as far as reality is concerned." She got up and walked across the room. I started to assimilate the sensory data from her a little more clearly. I was "riding" her body. It was like I WAS her, only that I had no control. As she looked down at herself, then in a mirror, and I got my first look at her. Wow. Even beyond the fantastic description in the scroll. Her look--beautiful, but in a comfortable, engaging sort of way. Well over six feet tall, glorious hair--blond and long. She was wearing a gray nightgown, but then she took it off. WOW. I fell in love with her right then. Man, I tell you. When you love a woman, you're all over her, y'know? You just want to experience ALL of her. But let me tell you--being INSIDE a woman you love--what a rush. "Please let me see my body," I said. "I will, but remember that I warned you." "I'll remember." She had started dressing, but stopped when I made my request. She opened her bedroom door, walked a little ways down a hallway, and opened a door on the right. "Walter--it looks bad. Remember that. Your head and face... I just want to warn you... you landed very... badly." "Okay, okay. Let's just get this over with." She opened the door. God I wish I took her advice. She was right about the head. Jaw ripped off, head split in two. The rest of the body was in pretty bad shape, too. Dead. Lifeless. "No more," I said, feeling very uncomfortable at not being able to close my eyes and turn away under my own steam. She turned and went back into the hallway. "I told you," she said. "I know, but... but I just didn't know... you know... For god's sake--how are you going to bring that back to life?" Mildred sighed as she strode into her living room, still nude, and sat on a couch. "It's a very involved process. It involves magickal stimulation of various anatomical systems. Basically creating a supercharged healing process. The only problem is getting started. That's the hardest part." I felt extremely weird and disgusted. "Why even bother?" "Because otherwise, Walter, you'll die." "That body's not dead?" "It IS dead. But YOU are alive, and the body has the POTENTIAL to come back." "I can't imagine being in that... thing." "There's no other way." "What--I can't stay inside of you forever?" "No--the spell that's fending off true death cannot last forever. It is a buttress; it distracts reality from the deed of resolution. I am fairly confident that I can repair your body to the point where it will be alive again. We have to hope we'll have the time to fully heal the body before you have to get back in it." "This is just great," I said after a pause. "It is," Mildred said. "You're not dead." "I'm also not alive." "True." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 19: THE MILDRED CORK CHAPTER 14 SR-233 ============================== SRmc014--"The President of the Confederacy of Comewhere" ============================== "So Mildred, uh, what was it that... that tied me up on that smokestack?" "You were tied? I didn't know. I guess it makes sense. I DID see a strange creature lurking around near the smokestack, but I didn't get a good look at it." "Huh..." Mildred got up, went back into her bedroom, and began dressing. I was really starting to get into being in her. "So Mildred," I said, "what's the deal with you, anyway?" "In what sense, Walter?" "I mean, you seem to be human, but I don't know--somehow different..." She laughed a little. "All I know of myself is from memory, which may or may not be accurate. In any case, whoever created me, gave me a set of memories to explain my origins. I can recount these for you, though as I said, they might not be true." "Shoot." "Very well. As I understand it, I am a magical construct--I was designed and created by an enormously powerful magician, who was named Shownamgappen. She was a pure hermaphrodite--half-man, half-woman--with full genitalia of both sexes. In the magickal bloodlines, such an occurrence is extremely rare, and such individuals possessed rare and deep powers. I use the pronoun 'she' for the sake of ease. "In any event, Shownamgappen experimented with impregnating herself, a wildly forbidden practice. But instead of conceiving, a massive creative force built up within her, and she was able to manipulate the magicks of construct with a mastery that left all other great magicians far, far behind. "She was commissioned by the President of the Confederacy of Comewhere to make companions for his meek, sickly grandsons. They were pathetic young men, without direction or courage. They shied away from women as they shied away from everything. "Shownamgappen interviewed each of the young men--over 50 in all, and spent years creating for each of them a beautiful mate to help them become men. "The President expected that the constructs would last a year or two, and then dissipate. That life expectancy was far beyond the constructs of most magicians, but Shownamgappen was no ordinary magician. "But after a few years, the constructed women were not dissipating, but rather, growing stronger, more full of personality, and more real. And the boys were irretrievably dependent on these wonderful creatures. Instead of turning them into men, the constructs served to freeze the boys in childhood." "But President Yeplojome took it all in stride. He was more interested in his own personal glory than the failed lives of his descendants. "Word of the marvelous constructed women spread far and wide throughout the Confederacy, and demand for Shownamgappen's work became frenzied--far more than she could ever build, even in a magician's extended lifetime. "So, with Yeplojome as her 'exclusive agent' she set about developing a method to mass-produce her beauties, in both male and female models. More than anything, it was the prospect of a tireless, ageless sex slave that drove the demand on that enormous world. She sidestepped the moral issues by creating the constructs so that they would deeply enjoy giving their master pleasure, no matter what. "After years of research, Shownamgappen finally developed a method of creating a cork-like substance, in which the design and means to build a certain construct was built in. All one need do is touch a tiny piece of this material, place it in a large body of water, and a day later they would have their prize. "As it happened, Shownamgappen had to re-impregnate herself every time her creative powers began to wane. At first she could go years without doing it. Then it began to get more and more frequent. "Each time she did this, there was a more and more pronounced effect. Eventually, the energy she was generating attracted all manor of unknowable entities--gods, faeries, hoijials, and the like. "She was losing her mind, or maybe gaining a new one. In this state, she was taken advantage of by President Yeplojome. Up until then, she had tailored her creations along the lines of conventional sexuality. The President pressed her for more exotic varieties, but she refused. Now that she was growing increasingly spaced-out, however, she acquiesced and gave in to the king. "The result was a series of corks that catered to every known perversion. Homosexual, pedophiliac, sado-masochistic, fetishist, and beyond." "Whoah," I said. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 19: THE MILDRED CORK CHAPTER 15 SR-234 ============================== SRmc015--"Snapshot" ============================== "Indeed. But as she grew further and further superearthly, she became obsessed with creating the perfect cork. She had made thousands of different models, but all of these found displeasure with her in one way or another. She particularly found it distasteful when an individual would weave multiple copies from the same cork--to bask in the glory of bountiful flesh. "As her transformation rapidly accelerated she sealed herself off from the rest of the world with a powerful magick gate, and set about her final task. First, she pronounced a mighty spell which annihilated all the constructs in existence which she had ever made, as well as rendering the corks impotent. Second, she created one final cork--The Mildred Cork--and cast it out into the realm of Massive Dimensions. This accomplished, Shownamgappen prepared for her ascension to a higher level of the universe." "What happened then?" She paused, a little sad. "I don't know. Since I am from The Mildred Cork, all contact with Shownamgappen and that realm was cut off as the Cork was cast out." "Man," I said, "all those people... all so dependent on their constructs, it must have been..." "...devastating. Yes. But Shownamgappen felt that things had gotten too far, that her constructs were surely ruining society and all people." "Huh." "Of course, since I AM a magickal construct myself, whomever made me could as easily have implanted these memories than any other." "Yeah but... it SOUNDS kind of... I don't know... it rings true, I guess." "Yes. I..." She seemed about to say something, but was very hesitant. "What is it?" "It's just... another entire part of the story, if you're interested." "Sure I am." "See, I have a life. I mean, I've EXPERIENCED a lot of things. But the whole time, I was in Shownamgappen's mind. She created me, then put me through decades worth of experiences, to season me and give me personality, presence, and aura." "Huh." "But I think..." "What?" "I think... maybe... what if the life I remember WAS real? What if I was a real person, chosen as the template for the Cork? Whoever did it to me might have planted this whole scenario in my mind..." "What do you mean, 'template'?" "I mean, someone could have taken me, used a variety of mental techniques on me, and then taken a 'snapshot' of me, imprinting it onto the Cork." "Hmm..." I said, trying to let this idea of hers sink in, as I wasn't quite getting it. "Let's just say, Walt, that I was made to have these doubts, perhaps to obscure my inevitable search for the truth of my origin." "Huh." In the time she'd been talking to me, she had gotten fully dressed, in an attractive red outfit. And yes--she was talking out loud. At least, I'm pretty sure. I don't know. I think we can converse without her saying it out loud, but... I don't know. I'm still too disoriented to figure anything out. "Well, we're off," Mildred said, putting on a pair of sneakers. "Where?" "To see your roommate, Roy O'Damn. We have to explain your disappearance some way--don't want to overly alarm your friends and family now, do we?" "No," I said. I had a bad feeling about this. I mean, I've always wanted supernatural powers and stuff, but I felt uncomfortable with the situation. I couldn't get the vision of my wrecked body out of my mind. It's fucked. I don't know. I can't see my body ever getting repaired. But I had a spark of hope as I felt a cool tinge of magick within Mildred. She had great powers, and I could tell... I could see something... precognition maybe?... I could see something happening in my dorm, Spoin Hall. Something special... -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 19: THE MILDRED CORK CUPLINE'S END ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 20: CLOWN CENTAUR ARCHITECT 12 Chapters--SR-235 thru SR-246 ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 20: CLOWN CENTAUR ARCHITECT CHAPTER 1 SR-235 ============================== SRcc001--"Powers of The Land" ============================== Let us begin our story in the midwestern section of the southern continent, where the kingdom of Rilnar is. King Drey was in a small room of his huge palace in the city of Thartos, on the western border. The small room (small for a king) was his private "office" where he would sometimes retire to relax and think alone. He sat by a desk and stared into space and thought. Earlier that day he got a letter from a sorcerer friend of his who had recently came across a bit of information while reading an old book in his huge library. It went like this: To King Drey of Rilnar, Greetings, old friend! While recently looking through some old books I found a strange bit of information that might interest you. Maybe you've heard about the ancient Southern Nomars, who were overrun by the Emrasian Empire. Well, as I read, just before the invasion they worked on and completed a crystal, with wondrous Powers, said to be called The Amarith. I thought that since this may be a little-known fact, you might like to try to get it. Possibly we could in our younger days of adventuring. Try to get whoever you send to go to the Northern Nomars of the Valley Darthule. They might have some information. Sincerely Yours, Therlid the Sorcerer Drey thought "That is a very interesting letter. I think that it would do our kingdom good to have that crystal, that... Amarith. I must ask Illergrom tomorrow if he could recommend anyone to go to visit the Nomars of the North. It was late, so King Drey decided to retire for the night. The next morning, after the king of Rilnar awoke, Illergrom, Drey's chief enchanter, was summoned to see him in the small room. In case you don't exactly know what an enchanter is, I will tell you. An enchanter is a magic-user whose primary powers are in the art of making and "enchanting" magical items, such as magic crystals, flaming swords, etc. Illergrom was a Triltan, or humanoid wolf. King Drey, and most of Rilnar, were too. In the small room Drey welcomed Illergrom and gave him the letter to read. After he finished reading it he asked the King "Well? What about it? I suppose you want to get it. Right?". "Yes," Drey answered "Very much. I'm wondering if you knew anyone who might go to the valley Darthule to get some information about the Crystal?" "Well, to think of it, I have a nephew, Thalerdrad, who has been taught the fine art of swordfighting by his father. He has always wanted to go adventuring like his father, you know him, Dradmer. Hasn't he gone adventuring with you, a long time ago?" the enchanter said. "Yes, I have," Drey answered "I must send him a letter and ask him if he would like to go. I know that you are busy, so I won't keep you any longer." "Yes, well, good-bye," the enchanter answered. The king took out a pen and paper and began to write the most important thing in Thalerdrad's life. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 20: CLOWN CENTAUR ARCHITECT CHAPTER 2 SR-236 ============================== SRcc002--"Highwayist" ============================== Thalerdrad, in the year 2717* (*The dating system in most of The Land was begun when civilization was just beginning, and Mount Vrennar in Voltaria erupted.), was staying with his father, Dradmer, in the town of Elorimm, in Rilnar. Dradmer, when he was young, was an adventurer, as was Drey, who went on a few with him. Dradmer taught his son all that he knew about swordfighting, and Thalerdrad caught on fast. Thalerdrad hoped to one day travel through The Land on some quest or similar thing. When Dradmer received the letter, he naturally assumed that, since being from King Drey, it would be for him, but it wasn't, it was of course for Thalerdrad. His father gave it to him, and he read it. As he did, his face lit up, because this was what he was waiting for. The letter was long, but mainly Drey said that he would like it very much if Thalerdrad would travel up to the valley of Darthule to ask the Nomars for some information about the Amarith. "What does it say, son?" Dradmer asked. His son gave him the letter and his father read it. "Oh... well," Dradmer said "you can't go, you're not ready for it." "I'm sorry father, but I'm going. I may never have another chance like this." They argued for a long time, but finally Dradmer said "All right, go, but I know that after you leave, I'll never see you again." Thalerdrad made no reply, but set out to write a letter to King Drey, that said he would go. The way letters and other mail is transported is mainly by being carried by an amazingly fast sort of cat-person known as a Rayvar. A week or so later, they were in the palace of King Drey, the adventurers who were going on the journey to the valley Darthule. The appointed leader of the group was Thalerdrad, the Triltan. His friend Thirk, a gnawling, was accompanying him. Now you see, a gnawling is a short rodent-person, and Thirk was rather small, even for a gnawling. A third member of the party was Gorblame, a huge monstrosity made of black metal called an Obscuriot, since he was a magical construct made of an impervious metal called obscurium. Gorblame's mind, however, was transplanted from an ancient seafarer, whose soul had become trapped within the palace walls centuries earlier, only to be discovered by Illergrom, who fused it with his latest Obscuriot, to save it from oblivion. So Gorblame, Thalerdrad, and Thirk stood before the king, receiving final instructions for the journey, as well as receiving a letter of authorization from the king to show the Nomars of the valley Darthule. Soon it was time to go, and Felptash the Highwayist, Illergrom's magical associate, set about to create a "highway", or magical road, on which it would only take several hours for the three adventurers to reach the valley Darthule, which would normally be several week's journey. Felptash, an ursan, or bear-man, was a brilliant violet in color, and he raised his hands and chanted and opened the highway to Darthule. "Be on your way!" Felptash said "And hurry! I cannot maintain the gateway much longer!" -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 20: CLOWN CENTAUR ARCHITECT CHAPTER 3 SR-237 ============================== SRcc003--"Exit Thirk" ============================== "Safe journey!" King Drey yelled after them as they entered the gateway. So the three set their way upon the highway. It was a shimmering road, the sky above it thick with shooting comets and beautiful wispy clouds drifting in and out of existence "Quite a remarkable sight," Thalerdrad commented. "So what!" Thirk squealed "I was on a highway once when I was young! It's no big deal!" "Eh," Gorblame muttered metallically "it's like the seaskys of elder days, me lads! When I was a fine muscular feller rather than a clattery pile of heavy machinery!" "Well Gorblame," Thalerdrad commented "you must admit that your current state is better than your soular confinement in the palace walls--or death, for that matter." "Better than the imprisonment," Gorblame chimed deeply, "but as for death, who knows? It may be much more pleasant than this." "Well, we might all find out about that if we don't keep on our toes!" Thirk said. "Eh," Gorblame said "You know, I regret telling you this, but we will die very soon. In Darthule. You know, the Nomars have the Amarith, and will send our dead bodies back as an answer to that fool Drey--they'll never give up the Amarith, much less to a military state like Rilnar." Then Gorblame began to make loud clanging coughing noises. All three then stopped, Thalerdrad and Thirk having shocked expressions on their faces. "H... how do you know this, Gorblame?" Thalerdrad asked. "Eh," Gorblame said, "'twas, uh, fully more'n four centuries ago, as a young feller, I was a guest of the mystic Bazbith Ladies on the island Bheordiack. They were civil, and asked those of us on the crew of the ship if we wished to see the time and circumstances of our death. I was the only one with enough mettle. They took me into a cave and showed me a scene in a radiant waterfall. What I saw was you two guys and some Northern Nomars, we gave them the letter, then they slayed us. But since they said it was four-hundred years hence, I was happy. That gained me the respect of me fellow crewmembers--smiling after seeing me own death. That was the beginning of my great success on the seas. But soon, thank our Creator, I'll die once and for all..." Thalerdrad and Thirk were both wide-eyed as they listened to his tale. "Uh..." Thalerdrad began, "...uh... are you... are you sure, Gorblame? Are you entirely sure?" "Yeap," Gorblame clanged. "Eh, why not, uh, abandon the mission! Yeah!" Thirk said loudly. "Forsake the king and his stupid quest! I wanna live!" "Thirk," Thalerdrad said, "we cannot abandon the mission. We have sworn ourselves to Drey. If death waits for us in the valley Darthule, then so be it." "So be it nothin'!" Thirk yelled out "I'm going back!" With this, Thirk began running back the way they had come. "No!" yelled Thalerdrad, but it was too late. As Thalerdrad knew would happen, Thirk burst into flame and evaporated. Nobody can go the other way on a highway, Thalerdrad knew. He closed his eyes in sorrow for his childhood pal. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 20: CLOWN CENTAUR ARCHITECT CHAPTER 4 SR-238 ============================== SRcc004--"Harlot" ============================== "Look what you did, dolt!" Thalerdrad yelled at Gorblame. "Don't blame me," Gorblame said "He should have known the effects of backtracking on a highway. Besides, he got off easy--the Nomars method of death-inducing is unpleasant in the extreme. If I were you I'd do the same as him." "I think you're lying!" Thalerdrad said "You want the glory of gaining the Amarith yourself! Well, I'll not allow you to commit such an evil act!" With this, Thalerdrad drew his blade and held it before him. "Calm yourself, son of Dradmer. If I wished to kill him, or you, for that matter, I'd have done it myself. Neither of you are a match for me. Please believe me. I'm telling the truth." Thalerdrad, breathing heavily, faced Gorblame, but slowly released his tensed muscles, and then resheathed his blade. "So be it," Thalerdrad said "I will believe you for now, but I shall face my fate like a true warrior." "Okay," Gorblame uttered lowly, as they began walking again. They walked a long time, neither saying a word. Then Thalerdrad spoke. "How will they kill us?" "I will tell you. They place us in tanks of weak acid and baby snakes, and as we slowly decompose, the snakes feed on us and grow larger. It is called Thirteen Days of Agony." "Oh God!" Thalerdrad exclaimed. "Yes," Gorblame commented. "But--what about you, in that huge and impervious metal body of yours?" "Well, they regenerate my original body, just to kill me." They walked on a while longer. Finally Thalerdrad, who seemed to be in deep thought, spoke. "I believe you, since you have no reason to lie. I wish to find some way out of this situation. To blazes with the king!" "Well, when we exit the highway, the Nomars will be waiting for us. Then the highway will disappear, and we'll be trapped in Darthule. They already know of our mission, and have the acid vats ready. There is no escape." "Well," Thalerdrad yelled "I know one escape! No one who's jumped off a highway was ever seen again! But it might lead to anywhere--even everlasting life! Farewell!" With this, Thalerdrad jumped off the side of the highway. He fell for a long, long time, and watched as the highway above drifted farther and farther into the distance. Then he felt himself burst into flame and evaporate. "Such is life," Gorblame said as he continued walking along the highway. But just at that moment, Felptash the Highwayist took a ballista bolt through the heart as Thartos was being invaded by the Union of Draldia. Felptash dead, the highway disintegrated, and Gorblame fell into oblivion. In oblivion, Gorblame reminisced about his days as a tern-man on the high seas. Soon, he felt his metal body disassembling and dispersing, and his soul was finally free. He felt like he was naked in a thunderstorm. It was glorious. Liberty at last. Back in Thartos, the palace of King Drey had just taken a huge fireball on it's western wall, and was collapsing. As his dying thought, Drey imagined the harlot he made love to decades earlier in Boshophot. He thought to himself, in all my life, is that the most outstanding memory? Yes, he thought, it is the most memorable thought. Pity. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 20: CLOWN CENTAUR ARCHITECT CHAPTER 5 SR-239 ============================== SRcc005--"Finjear Morno" ============================== Free of the girls for now, Finjear Morno eyed his home in disgust. It was either the war or his love life that would eventually kill him, he thought. Dailan Fogordy was there. He hated Dailan. "Yeah, Finjear," the fat, messy Dailan said. "Yeah." These days, if you had a house, you had to decide between tolerating fools from your past or casting them out to an almost certain doom. He'd cast Dailan out many times before, but somehow the fucker always managed to avoid certain doom and wound up back here. Finjear had horns, and this was what gave him surer footing in his war-torn country. The horned always managed to hang onto the top of the hill, despite a general distrust among the non-horned populace. Dailan had two little bumps above his forehead--he shaved his hair up there to show them off--but they weren't real horns. Genetic mix-ups like him were rare, but not unknown. He always asserted that he was horned, albeit with very short horns. Scientists regarded such as him victims of an abnormality which has nothing to do with real hornedness. "So you're back, huh?" Finjear said. He was a large guy with a limp and a cane. His hair was prematurely white, and his eyes were narrow, a condition many of the horned suffered from as they aged. He wore a green suit with copper chains. He must have been about 40. "Back..." Dailan said distantly. "Look pal, why don't you get your ass down and join the army like you should have done a long time ago." Dailan regarded him with mock shock. "Could it be that this war has made enemies out of brothers?" Finjear sat down on a chair next to the couch Dailan was sprawled on. "Look friend--I know I'll never dissuade you from your belief that you have horns--but horns or not, you're no brother of mine. Just look at yourself. It makes me sick--all those wonderful, healthy young men, being destroyed in the most hideous ways, every day. I sit and think about the contributions they could have made to this world over the course of their lifetimes. All just swept away. Then I look at you. It... it takes all your talent to come up with the complex excuses you dupe yourself with to explain why you can't make it by yourself." Dailan scowled at Finjear as he continued. "You have no skills. But you're 'an architect'. Yeah? An architect. You design buildings... not A ONE OF WHICH HAS EVER BEEN BUILT!" "That's false," Dailan said softly. "How?" "The Jayn Sisters... I helped them build their relief center..." "THAT WAS A TENT! A TENT IS NOT A BUILDING!" "It's a structure! You... Finjear... you're such a pussy for popular notions, aren't you? Hah! I could rattle off a dozen innovations I built into those tents... but you wouldn't..." "Look--a man has a trade! Look at the fighters out there--everything they need has to be fashioned by the hands of men and the machines they build and work. Every food ration, every cartridge, every shirt--all have to be made. You're not a part of that." Dailan struggled like some severely-injured insect to sit up on the couch, wriggling in a pathetic laziness. He glared at Finjear. "Don't kick me out again, huh? I can't take it out there. Do you know what it's like to sleep in wet woods?" Finjear held his hand up. "No, no. I'm not going to boot you out. But it's not compassion on my part. I don't really like you at all. But I DO have a job for you, and your staying here is contingent upon you accepting it?" "How you I hear the same song every day..." Dailan sang, quoting from a popular song. "I know you're intelligent, Finjear, but you have a mental block as far as reality is concerned. Look around us... buildings bombed and blown up in massive fashion. Yeah. You know that this war will end someday. Uh-huh. And there will come a time to rebuild." "Yeah? So what's your point, Fogordy? That time will come, yes. But what does it have to do with the present?" Dailan snickered. "You think that my time would be better served in a factory than in the SERIOUS PURSUIT of architecture?" "Yes, I do. But the job I have for you is not in my factory. It's in a bar that I just acquired." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 20: CLOWN CENTAUR ARCHITECT CHAPTER 6 SR-240 ============================== SRcc006--"Josal Fade Was No Victim" ============================== "'Acquired'? As in the bilking of poor war victims?" Dailan said. "Josal Fade was no victim," Finjear responed. "He was a ruthless racketeer, who's never had anything but his own benefit in mind. The war fueled the demise of his pathetic criminal empire. Hah--The Clown Centaur Architect was just about the only thing of value the court could give me. Didn't even take a dent out of what he owed me." "THE CLOWN CENTAUR ARCHITECT? I despise that little shack. Hah! I hope that's not the bar you had in mind." "Of course it is. You think I acquire multiple bars every day? Come on, man. Haha--I thought it would be SO appropriate for a real architect to tend the bar there." Dailan sat up and his feet touched the floor for the first time since Finjear had entered. The fat man's face started turning red. "If you think you're being clever, don't--no--it's not clever. You're just calling me a clown." "Yes Dailan, I am. I'll call you a clown anytime, anywhere, cuz that's WHAT YOU ARE." "Hah! I won't do it! The Ksoco Library is under martial law now, so I can finally get access to the rare books they've hoarded from me all these years! I was just going there tomorrow!" "How were you gonna go there?" "Well..." "How? By borrowing MY bike?" Dailan stared at Finjear and his face cycled through a number of emotions--anger, fear, plea for pity, pride. "Surely you understand the enormity of the Ksoco Library! Those intellectual barbarians have kept knowledge under lock and key for long enough!" "I don't know, uh, Dailan, but isn't that in enemy territory?" "ENEMY TERRITORY? In the realm of intellectual pursuit, there are no territories!" "And you--fat, weak, timid Dailan Fogordy plan to pull off such a hazardous mission by yourself?" "Well..." "Oh, come on! You wanted ME to help you? After all the things you've done to me--stealing, badmouthing, assaulting--you think I'd really even consider it?" "Well, if you want the evil pleasure of debasing me in that bar of yours, you better do it." Finjear shook his head in disbelief and closed his eyes. "Well," he said with a smile, after a pause, eyes still closed, "a mission like that couldn't be worse than my love life." "Who has time for a love life in these times?" Dailan said softly. Finjear opened his eyes. "I do. I don't know what it is--I guess I just love having a woman around. Sex and companionship--can do a lot to keep you sane." "Is your wife still alive?" "Who knows. Once she joined the other side, she was dead to me. So whether she's still breathing matters little to me." "Why? If you once loved her?" "Because--love is a moving target. You have to keep up with it. Things get so fouled-up. Love is a gentle, delicate thing..." "I know something of that," Dailan said, looking down at his lap. "Oh yeah?" Dailan didn't respond. "Well," Finjear said, "the problem as I see it is this. I know this circle of woman friends--and I find all of them attractive, at some level or another. I'd as readily go for one as any of the others. But dealing with them is like walking through a mine field--believe me--at this point I might rather get blown up by a real mine than step back into that labyrinth feminine." "What do you mean?" "I mean--as a man--I think that men can genuinely love more than one woman at once. It's just that the women don't take too kindly to this. They impose this monogamy on us--and I was thinking--isn't this women turning men into woman-like people?" "That's beside the point." "In what way?" Dailan raised his eyebrows to indicate lack of response. "So," Finjear continued. "You just said 'that's beside the point' even though you don't have a point? You just said it for the sake of saying it?" Dailan stuck out his lips in a frown and tilted his head. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 20: CLOWN CENTAUR ARCHITECT CHAPTER 7 SR-241 ============================== SRcc007--"My Bike" ============================== "You really are a lost soul, Dailan," Finjear said. "Anyway, what I was saying, was how the male and female perspective on love... and sex... is so vastly different." "I've heard this argument a thousand times." "What argument?" "The... the argument about men and women being different." "You know--you call yourself an intellectual, but you're nothing but a poser. You can't handle even the simplest debate. We're not going on any book-bundling mission. You're coming with me to the Clown Centaur Architect tomorrow and start your bartending training. A lot of bars have been damaged in the war, and god knows that drinking becomes that much more popular when the world is falling apart around you. And I don't want to miss that profit." "Why me, though?" "You fucking little fool! Can't you stop lying to yourself long enough to identify an act of pure mercy when it comes your way? You act so high and mighty, Mr. Big Architect, but how big are you when you sleep in the woods, and nearly die from the exposure? I'm giving you a chance--a safe and easy job that'll carry through the remainders of this war--maybe you can even make enough to put away some savings--and who knows--in a few years, you might really be in a position to start your own architecture business!" Dailan said nothing. "Look my friend," Finjear continued, "you've built a mighty structure in your mind to protect your ego--damn, maybe you really ARE a good architect, but just in the construction of damn excuses--see--you have to jump right into the deathly jaws of life, be ready and willing to be chewed up and spat out, within an inch of your life, if you ever hope to get anywhere." "I... I..." "Listen to me. My emotions absolutely worn as thin as they can get. I can be a real bastard if I want. I'll throw you out and have you murdered if I so much as catch a glimpse of you. I have the connections--you know I can do it without any fear of reprisal. And like I said--I don't really like you. I just... the thought of you tending that bar... it pleases me at some level." "You have... no... common decency." "Listen to me Fogordy! This is it! I'm not going to put up with any more bullshit! I'm giving you your last chance. You do exactly as I say--no arguments, no shenanigans. If you feel like stepping out of line, you better fucking well disappear, because I will HAVE YOU KILLED. Understand?" Dailan shook his head uncontrollably as Finjear stood up, with some difficulty, using his cane. "Not another word from you. Go into the guest quarters. And... and if I ever see you again, it means that you accept my offer. If you don't... well, I better... I BETTER NOT FUCKING EVER SEE YOU AGAIN OR YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD!" Dailan began to weep. "So--the plan--you go into the guest quarters--accept my offer, and I'll see you tomorrow morning. Reject me, and you better escape into the woods. If you understand this much, just nod your fat head." Dailan nodded frantically. "And... uh, and Dailan... if you harbor any thoughts about stealing my bike tonight, I'd erase them from your stinking skull. Because, if you do that, I'll use every resource in my possession to track you down and make sure you--and all your architectural documents--and ruined and destroyed in a most uncomfortable fashion, eh? Steal my bike, and you're going to suffer much before you die." Dailan started shivering. "Get out of my sight," Finjear said with an icy finality. Dailan scurried to the guest quarters and gingerly closed the door. Finjear huffed and puffed heavily as he regained his composure. Transferring my anger at the women to such a pathetic little rodent, he thought as he sat down on the couch. But if he's good even as a target for my frustrations, then at least he's good for something. I wonder if he'll try and kill me tonight? Only him and me in the house. Well, if I lock my quarters, there's no way he could get in. A crafty man, a resourceful man, maybe. But a fool like him--what am I worrying about? -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 20: CLOWN CENTAUR ARCHITECT CHAPTER 8 SR-242 ============================== SRcc008--"Coward" ============================== Thalerdrad watched as the highway far above him receded into the distance. This falling felt good. With every second, he felt better and better about his chances for survival. But then came the flames. Silent, unfelt, only seen. Engulfing him. Well it was worth a try, he thought, as he started getting light-headed, losing awareness of his body. He thought of his friend Thirk, how the little gnawling had also burst into flame and evaporated, minutes earlier. Maybe I'll see him, he thought, in the place you go when you die like this. Soon he was nearly gone, and through lips that may or may not have existed, he uttered words which cannot be uttered--a threat to his god, Xonzeft--a statement which brought certain death and damnation to any worshipper of Xonzeft. "Hated Xonzeft--I vow to destroy you." He had seen the results of saying this. When he was a child, a jagvain, or tortoise-man, named Naltosh, spoke the words in the Elorimm town square in a drunken rage. Instantly, the glowing, transparent, clawed, giant hand of Xonzeft appeared out of nowhere and ripped Naltosh apart in a matter of seconds. All that was left was his steaming remains and the painful howl of his soul being sucked into the netherworld. Thalerdrad never forgot the incident, and recalled it just about every day. Deep inside, Thalerdrad had a strange obsession with saying the phrase. He felt like he had to do it--he almost did a few times, when he was upset with his father. But he never managed to get the words out. Somehow, Thalerdrad thought he could beat Xonzeft. Naltosh had been kind to Thalerdrad on several occasions, and he wanted at some level to avenge the poor jagvain. Knowing he was seconds from his end, saying the Sevenwords seemed the logical thing to do. First, he'd finally get to say it, satisfying his perverse desire. Second, maybe it would get Xonzeft's attention. Maybe Xonzeft would realize it was just a call for help, that the threat was used as an emergency call. Then Xonzeft could save him. "Coward" was the last word to run through Thalerdrad's mind as he reached full evaporation and vanished. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 20: CLOWN CENTAUR ARCHITECT CHAPTER 9 SR-243 ============================== SRcc009--"Broadcasting" ============================== Thalerdrad began to wake up, and was in that state where dream is not yet sorted out from reality, where you might think you've been sleeping where you're used to, instead of a strange place. Curled up in a heavy blanket, the Triltan could feel the chilly air on his nose. He huddled up into a fetal position, savoring the warmth he had built up under the blanket. He had been dreaming, and it was a dream of his mission to Darthule, with Thirk and Gorblame. At one point, Gorblame started complaining about the "wrong kind of sky" on the highway--and soon, the mystical road started to slant downward. Gorblame said this was very bad. Thirk stated that he like the new downhill highway, because he liked danger. Soon the road's angle passed 45 degrees, and the three stopped. "What can we do?" Thalerdrad asked. "We can't go back--you know what'll happen. But it we keep going forward..." "Eh," Gorblame said in his monstrous voice, "if your suggestin' we stand still..." "No, but what else can we do? Look down there--you can't see much road--that means it must slope down further." "Your father would have the answer," Gorblame said. Thalerdrad became enraged. "What the hell do you mean? What answer could HE possibly have? Why does everyone... line me up... with my father?" "Cool it Thalerdrad!" Thirk chimed in. "We'll find a way out... as adventurers!" Suddenly the three heard a feral roar from behind them, and they turned to see the giant head of Felptash the Highwayist, the bright purple bear-man. He looked angry. "Stand still on the highway... hurts the one who made it!" Gorblame thundered. In a blind frenzy of hatred, Thalerdrad unsheathed his sword and, with both hands, threw it with all his might at the image of Felptash. It flew straight, and then hit what looked like a mirror, shattering Felptash's image. The dream fell into nebulosity then, but there was definitely a scene where Thalerdrad sat naked in a field of grass and flowers with a strange, alien woman. She looked similar to a Kiplaft, or monkey-person, but her features were much sharper, and her skin was furless. He felt both great attraction and repulsion toward her at the same time. This was the dream receding in Thalerdrad's mind as his consciousness began to kick in. For a few moments, he thought he was in the royal guestroom in Palace Thartos. Where he'd been staying for a few days before his mission. But something about the ambient sound and smell of the place, to Thalerdrad's keen senses, told him he was someplace else before he opened his eyes a few moments later. The image that struck him sent a jolt of pure shock through him. Whiteness with huge black dots. Indistinct. Taking a sharp intake of breath, Thalerdrad sat up and soaked up more of the situation. He was on a blue futon in the center of a huge black circle. All around him was white, with various formations of black circles. There was no horizon, no sky, nothing he could use to orient himself. The smell--there was no smell, and somehow it smelled wrong. The sound--nothing audible, but he was sure there was something bad making noise out there. Death, he thought. This is the place. Did Xonzeft rip me apart, and now am I damned? No memory of that. Just of the highway and dreams about the highway. And cowardice. And blaspheming. Suddenly, a crackling sound filled the air, followed by a female voice shot through with static. "This is Walter Mota, speaking from the body of Mildred, broadcasting from Thatterine College into the great unknown. Using nothing-band transmitter/receiver bought in Felptash yesterday. Seeking all and any replies. If you are hearing this, please reply." Felptash? Thalerdrad cocked his head and considered the situation for a few moments. Then he spoke, tentatively. "Hello?" His voice sounded strange--very pure and very strong. The voice continued. "Repeat--this is Walter Mota broadcasting from Thatterine--what? You heard something?" -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 20: CLOWN CENTAUR ARCHITECT CHAPTER 10 SR-244 ============================== SRcc010--"Fif" ============================== "Can you hear me?" Thalerdrad asked. "Yeah, I definitely hear it. Let me adjust these rings a little..." The crackling sound was joined with a jarring squeal. "Contacting person, do you read me?" the voice said. "Yes!" Thalerdrad said. "Can you hear me?" "I can hear you." "What's this all about?" "What's it all about? That's an awfully open-ended question, wouldn't you say?" "What?" "We are in contact. Yes. Yes." "Who are you?" "I am Walter Mota, speaking from the body of Mildred, broadcasting from Thatterine College." "I am not familiar with such a place." "What are your current surroundings?" "What?" "Your current surroundings." "Ah--white--all around--and black circles." The static grew louder and Thalerdrad heard the voice say something, but he couldn't make it out. "Hello? HELLO?" "Don't worry, Thalerdrad, we'll get you out of there!" Walter said in Mildred's voice, much clearer now. "How... how is it you know my name?" "Uh... must be a little time distortion. You told us your name, but that might have been in your subjective future." "What?" Thalerdrad said, frustrated. The voice kept on talking, but it sounded like the same voice saying two different things at once, and he couldn't make any of it out. Then, the voice came back, much louder. "...hearing you. Can you tell us your name and current situation?" "What?" "I said, we are hearing you. What is your name and current situation?" "I... I thought you already knew my name?" It sounded like the voice was talking to someone else, though Thalerdrad heard no one else. "...what? You think it could be time-unstable? ...yeah... Uh--contacted person--you could be experiencing some time-distortion in our signal." "You already... I thought you already said something about... time..." "Listen, this message and form of communication is very unstable, understand, but for now, just tell us your name and circumstances." Thalerdrad slowly stood up, looking around to see if he could make out any source for the sound. But upon standing erect, he found himself so disoriented that he sat back down again. "What is it you said about Felptash?" the Triltan said. "Felptash?" "Yes." "We bought this transmitter there." "There?" "Yes... Can you provide name and circumstances?" Thalerdrad looked suspicious, trying to figure out who this might be. He thought it might be some sort of afterlife test, maybe to determine his place in the Land of the Dead. "I am Thalerdrad, son of Dradmer, of Elorimm." "And.. your circumstances?" "I am dead." "That is understood," the voice said. "The... are in the process of--" The voice suddenly grew much louder, and became indistinct, and the squealing began again. "Ahhh!" Thalerdrad yelled out, covering his ears. The ruckus continued, and he buried his face in the pillow, pushing it to cover his ears. But soon, the din subsided, and the voice was back, clear as day. "Thalerdrad--calling Thalerdrad. This is Walter. Calling Thalerdrad. We are back in Felptash." Thalerdrad sat up again, staring wildly into the air. "What about Felptash?" "Oh good--you're there. Thank goodness." "What is it about Felptash? Is he... angry with me for what I did?" "What? Who's angry?" Thalerdrad paused, then spoke. "I don't know who you are--but I know that Felptash could be very angry that I jumped off his highway. If you are a magical agent of his--sent to torment me..." "Listen Thalerdrad--I don't know what you're talking about. Don't you remember our conversation? Could be more time problems... yeah?... okay--just listen to me. We spoke about your situation and I told you we were going back to Felptash, to find someone who could help pull you through. Maybe that's in your subjective future, but anyway--he's here--Felpever Wand--to pull you in. Hold on." Thalerdrad listened to a series of chime-like noises before a husky male voice spoke. "Well now. Got a lost soul do we?" Thalerdrad didn't respond. The husky voice continued. "Okay. This is a somewhat... delicate operation. I'm going to need your full cooperation. I'm going to have to ask you a few questions before I can pull you in. Okay?" "Whatever," Thalerdrad said, giving up on understanding the situation. "Okay. Now--my friends here tell me that you're a lost soul, stuck in some sort of limbo, with no conceivable way out. Other than this. Is this so?" "As far as I know," Thalerdrad said, then added on impulse, "Are you an agent of Xonzeft?" "No, I'm not. Now--do you understanding that if I fif you in here, that there'll be no way for you to return to your current locale?" "What?" "I'm telling you--there will be no way to go back to where you are if you come here. Do you understand this?" "I... if you say so." "Fine. Now--knowing this--do you still want to come through?" -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 20: CLOWN CENTAUR ARCHITECT CHAPTER 11 SR-245 ============================== SRcc011--"Icy Calm" ============================== "Where... where is it that I am coming through to?" Thalerdrad asked. "Felptash," Felpever Wand said. "Not a bad place. We'll provide you with food, shelter, emotional support, and the resources you require to start on the new life of your choosing. I'm reading you as a benevolent sentient, and it's our ethic to save those lost in the vastness of nowhere." "I--I don't know if I can answer you." "That's up to you." "I--can I answer--can I answer that I accept your offer, only so long as you're telling the truth?" "That is acceptable." "Okay then--I accept your offer--only so long as you're telling the truth." "Fine. Now, this is, as I said, a delicate process. We have to prepare, and--" Again, the voice grew in volume until it was unintelligible. "Damn it!" Thalerdrad yelled. He went to hide his head in the pillow again, but before his face hit the pillow he saw that the futon was sinking into the black circle. The sound of roaring, buzzing saws filled the air as he frantically tried to scamper away from the futon, but before he could get moving at all, he was waist deep in black nothingness. He howled a savage howl, and looking straight up at the queer arrangement of black circles in the distance, roared out "HATED XONZEFT--I VOW TO DESTROY YOU!!!" And he was swallowed up in the void, but only for a few moments. The darkness was all around him, but soon, something began to take shape below him. It was... a room. Yes... definitely a room. It coalesced out of indistinct mists. He watched the process in fascination, then before he knew it, WHAM!--he dropped to the floor of the room. It was quiet and very dark, but his wolfen eyes quickly adjusted to the low light level. It was a richly appointed room--quality furniture, sculptures, a suit of armor, a fireplace, a nice rug. He drew his sword and crouched. "What's going on down there?" a male voice yelled from somewhere above him. His combat instincts kicked in strong and he knelt behind a piece of furniture, hiding himself and making no noise. "Dailan--I warned you--there'll be no more chances for you!" Upon hearing the severity in the tone of the speaker, a great rage rose up in Thalerdrad, and he roared out "I'm tired of these games ! Show yourself!" Thalerdrad heard nothing for the better part of a minute. Then, filled with courage, tired of cowardice, he stood up and began walking toward the flight of stairs he could see in the next room. "I'm not afraid of you, whatever you are," Thalerdrad said. "I'm ready to face you." "Kindly identify yourself," the voice said. In the next instant, Thalerdrad looked up the stairs just as Finjear Morno began descending them. The two locked eyes. Both were stunned by what they saw, standing silent. "My god..." Finjear finally said, quietly. "Who are you?" Thalerdrad growled threateningly, holding his sword out in front of him. "Finjear Morno," he said with an icy calm. "This is my house you are in." Thalerdrad narrowed his eyes. "Are you the one... who was talking to me before?" "I--" "Talking about Felptash?" Finjear raised one of his eyebrows, regarding the gigantic wolf-man with a touch of amusement. "My dear fellow, you are lost," he said after a long pause. "I feel... I feel that you mean me no harm. I think you need help." Thalerdrad stood silent, but lowered his blade a little. "I'm coming down," Finjear said. "We'll go into the drawing room and talk." Thalerdrad stared at the horned man, trying to size him up. Then he sheathed his weapon and stepped back. "If you are willing to give me the answers to this nightmare, I swear I'll do you no harm." "Fine, fine," Finjear said as he carefully began to descend the creaky steps. Thalerdrad stepped back from the stairs as Finjear came down. The white-haired man cautiously approached the massive form of the Triltan and motioned toward the room where Thalerdrad had fallen in. "In there." Thalerdrad nodded as he walked into the room. Finjear turned on an electric light which momentarily hurt Thalerdrad's eyes. Then Finjear sat, in a chair, and motioned for Thalerdrad to sit on the couch. He did. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 20: CLOWN CENTAUR ARCHITECT CHAPTER 12 SR-246 ============================== SRcc012--"Stain" ============================== "Now then," Finjear said, his voice trembling a bit even though he was trying to sound calm. "Let me tell you--I have no idea where you came from, nor any answers to your personal situation. I am, however, very curious as to how you wound up here." "So you know nothing of Felptash?" Thalrdrad said. Finjear cocked his head in the manner of intense thought. "No," he finally said, "I can honestly say that I've never heard of anything called 'Felptash'." Thalerdrad coughed a mighty cough, then looked up at Finjear through bleary eyes. "Is this the Land of the Dead?" "What!?" "Am I... you know... dead." "You mean, are you a ghost?" "I--I guess so." "I don't know what you are. I certainly never saw anything like you before." "Nor I you. You appear similar to a Kiplaft--a monkey-man--but you--you--" "Monkey man!? That's what I look like to you?" "Yes," Thalerdrad said softly. "I have never seen such as you. Are you a unique mutant, or part of a race?" "What? I am a horned human! And we are NOT mutants! We're a... 'genetic echo', if you like--from a time when horned deities of nature and ribaldry intermated with humanity." Thalerdrad appeared interested, but said nothing. "So--" Finjear said. "How is it you wound up in my house?" "I--do not know. I was on a mission--to the Valley Darthule, in the name of King Drey of Rilnar. But, on the highway that Felptash made, I... I JUMPED OFF... I... I am a coward. I feared death." "Only a fool laughs at death." Thalerdrad smiled and continued. "I fell--falling and falling--until the flames licked me and my body began discorporating. Then--then I awoke in a terrible place..." "Here?" "No, no. It was a land with no features, save for black spheres. I woke up there--on a bed--and voices began assailing me, taunting me." "Oh?" "Yes--they told me that they would save me--bring me to a land called Felptash--the same name as the Highwayist who made our highway. And I--I began to sink into the blackness. Then..." "You came here?" "Yes--I dropped down, from the ceiling," Thalerdrad said, pointing toward the ceiling. They both looked up, seeing a circular purple stain on the white paint of the ceiling. "I say!" Finjear said. "That's where I came from." Just then, the two heard a clattering noise from beyond a door on the far side of the room. Finjear narrowed his already-narrow eyes and made a look of frustration. He held a "hold on" finger up to Thalerdrad, and yelled toward the door. "You may as well come on out, Dailan, like I know you're craving to. Stop your cowering--come out here and greet our visitor." They could hear the doorknob slowly turn, and then the door slowly creaking open. "Finjear, I-- I--I just want to say, I accept your offer, and--" Dailan said as he was poking his head out, but stopped short when he caught sight of Thalerdrad. "Yikes!" "Calm yourself--he means us no harm. Our visitor here is from a different universe. He is lost--and I mean to provide him all my hospitality." Dailan didn't move--he stayed with his head poked out the door, and began shaking in fear. "Oh, for heaven's sake!" Finjear said. Then suddenly, a crackling sound filled the air, and a voice began to speak. "This is Walter Mota, speaking from the body of Mildred, broadcasting from Thatterine College into the great unknown." "The voices!" Thalerdrad moaned. "What?" Finjear Morno exclaimed, looking around wildly for the source of the sound. The crackling voice of Walter Mota in Mildred's body continued. "I hear it. Thalerdrad, is that you? Please let it be you." Thalerdrad stared at the purple stain in the ceiling and replied. "It is me. It is Thalerdrad." "We are VERY lucky. Now PLEASE, keep focused on my voice. I'm paging Wand now. We have to get you full-info-filled as soon as possible." "Where are you?" Finjear demanded. The sound grew loud and staticky and incomprehensible, but then Walter's Mildred voice broke through again. "What, I hear someone else there." "I am somewhere else," Thalerdrad said loudly. Just then, Dailan Fogordy gingerly began to move toward Thalerdrad and Finjear. "What... is... this... madness?" he said. "Shh!" Finjear said tersely, pointing a finger at Dailan as he joined Thalerdrad in staring at the ceiling stain. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 20: CLOWN CENTAUR ARCHITECT CUPLINE'S END ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 21: ORANGE UNIVERSE 4 Chapters--SR-247 thru SR-250 ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 21: ORANGE UNIVERSE CHAPTER 1 SR-247 ============================== BLOCK 21.1 ============================== Paith Paper was in the final frame of the Women's Regional Bowling Tour. If she struck in this frame, she'd be the champ. If she missed, she'd come in second. Simple as that. She faced the pins, concentrated, visualized the pins collapsing like so many tin soldiers. She refined the position of her feet minutely, reoriented the ball in front of her. This was the moment she had spent months striving for. But even if she missed, she'd still come in second. She began her approach. But a moment later she realized that the ceiling was all wrong. She continued, and released the ball. The lane ahead of her was all wrong, going in all wrong directions. Paith knew she'd hit a strike, but reality was getting messed up, so she had to get out of there. Focus, relax. Relax. Reality messed up. She made the strike, won the tournament, but ran out of the building, leaving the adoring crowd of blue-collar folks and charging out into the vast parking lot, to her little humble little orange car. Huffing, Paith ignited the engine and swore. The reality screw-up was an understandable phenomenon. She had been living in a partially real apartment for a long time, and the irreality she'd been absorbing was catching up with her now, dammit. It wasn't the surroundings, but the herself that was the problem. She was losing her set-of-happenings balance. If she stayed in the same place when this happened, she'd fall out of existence altogether, into a pleasant but alarming fucked-space of distortions. She had been told of her dilemma by a couple of engineers who worked for an organization called The Aconck Group. But she had contacted one of the leaders of The Aconck Group, Supple Jake, and she didn't know anything about the partially-real constructs and happenings in the area. Apparently, the engineers were keeping the dilemma secret from the mainstream leadership of TAG. Supple Jake seemed very concerned, and assured Paith that the head of TAG, Bavler Bestroystraw, would be informed of the problem. But none of this helped Paith very much. She wondered whether or not Supple Jake was in league with the engineers. Driving away from the tournament, Paith composed a reasonable excuse for running out of the contest so quickly. She decided that a good excuse would be that she had a psychic impression that her cat was in grave danger, and that she arrived back at her apartment just in time to save her cat from being electrocuted by a malfunctioning, short-circuiting radio. Yeah, that'd be a good lie. The TAG engineers told Paith that it would be safe to live at her apartment for a while longer, but now she could use the bowling money to get the hell out of there. But they had said that for the time being it was safer for her to stay in the hemireal apartment, since it was the state her reality-equilibrium was used to. If she moved away, they reasoned, she'd have to go through a disturbing readjustment to her new, utterly real home. And another thing, this weird Worlds Fair that opened up a mile and a half down the road. It also was only partially real, but it was really creepy. Like, who built it? Who designed it? She didn't know. She also realized that The Aconck Group was essentially a secret. She was assured by the engineers and also Supple Jake that they didn't care that she knew, because even if she told people about it, they'd never accept it. But Paith did fear for her safety at times. She felt the engineers might want to take her out. But she was a tough cookie, a bowler. She could take care of herself. She drove out of the parking lot, and slid, as if on ice, for half-a-mile of road. Then the car responded normally. Reality, something you don't appreciate till you're deprived of it. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 21: ORANGE UNIVERSE CHAPTER 2 SR-248 ============================== BLOCK 21.2--Yophappen Dan ============================== "That goddamn woman bowler Paith Paper," said Yophappen Dan. "Who?" asked Friction Eacho. "That Paith Paper. That bowler." "Oh." Yophappen Dan and Friction Eacho looked out the glass elevator onto the vast parking lot below. "This building's gonna blow," Dan said. "I guess," said Eacho. The elevator didn't move. "Did you press the button?" Dan asked. "I thought I did." Dan pressed the button himself. The elevator remained not in motion. Dan pressed the button fiercely several more times. "What the fuck's with this piece a shit?" Dan said. "Busted," Eacho said. "I hope it's not you Fric, increasing the friction in the elevator's vertical induction system." "No. I'm not eachoing the elevator shaft's friction. I know I'm not." "So why don'tcha eacho the friction of the air particles hitting the main cable, melting it, so we'll fall to the lobby. We can't die." "Well, that'd have to be some intense eachoing, to melt it." "Yeah I know, but we're late. We're very late. If we don't get outta here soon, we'll be screwed." "This is highly irregular. Couldn't we take the stairs?" "Do it. This building's gonna blow anyway. Just do it." "Okay. I'll try." Friction Eacho glanced upward and concentrated. "I'm eachoing the whole area directly above us," Eacho said. "But I don't think I can generate enough eachoing through the ceiling, especially since I can't see it." "Do it, Fric, man," Dan said. Eacho continued to concentrate, but finally he let out a sigh and relaxed. "Can't do it, Dan," he said. "Fuck." "Why not punch out the glass--then we could jump out," Each suggested. "Are you crazy?" "We can't die." Dan looked at Eacho and then at the glass. He kicked the glass. It didn't shatter. He kicked it again, harder. It didn't shatter. Then, he kicked it again, but he slipped, and it didn't shatter. Then he regained his poise and kicked it again and it shattered. Warm outside air came in. Then the elevator started to move, but very slowly. "The elevator's working so we don't hafta jump," Eacho said. "Oh come on. We're late as it is and I already kicked the glass," Dan said. "So jump." Dan went over to the opening, looked back at Eacho, then jumped out. Eacho looked down and then jumped himself, making sure to launch himself farther out so as not to hit Dan. Dan would have been pissed-off if Eacho landed on him. He might even yophappen him, and Eacho didn't like being yophappened. So Dan and Eacho crashed into the parking lot below, ripping their clothes a little but otherwise none the worse. Some bystanders were looking on with concerned stares. "It's the only way to travel," Eacho commented to a woman. Dan got up, lit a cigarette, and strolled over to his car. Eacho followed. They got in. "Well," Eacho said. They left the parking lot just as the building exploded, and headed for the bowling alley to see Paith Paper. * * * "It was her cat," said a tall woman. "She had a feeling. I know what she's going through." "That's a strange story, but y'hear so many weird stories these days, some of 'em gotta be true," said an old guy with thick glasses, in the reflection of which Dan and Eacho could be seen approaching. "Where is the woman bowler?" Dan asked in a dead-serious tone. "Uh--what?" the tall woman said. "The woman," Eacho said, "the, uh, bowling woman." "It's a woman's tournament!" the old guy said. "They're ALL women." "No you fool--the most successful one," Dan said, "Paith Paper." "She won, but then she ran out!" the tall woman said. "She called a minute ago and said she had this... FEELING... that her cat was in trouble. And you know what? It was true." "Yeah, right," Dan said. "Where'd she go? Home?" "That's where people's cats usually live," the tall woman said. Dan whipped his head around and stared an evil stare at the woman. "Don't try sarcasm on me, babe. I don't put up with it." The woman stood frozen, but the old man started to laugh. "What are you chuckling at, gramps?" Dan asked, glaring at the man now. He stopped laughing and gulped, giving Dan a sheepish look, the look of a child caught doing something naughty. "We're wasting time!" Eacho said in a loud whisper. "I know, I know!" Dan said, then he looked back at the woman. "Where does she live?" "Paith? I wouldn't tell an asshole like you that information." Eacho grabbed Dan from behind, by the shoulders, holding him back from lunging at the woman. "Lady," Eacho said with icy seriousness, "he'll kill you--I guarantee it. The next words out of your mouth better be the right address. Think of your family ma'am--they'll miss you." The woman sneered at the two, and Eacho went from a pleading expression to one of "okay, you asked for it". Dan was just about to go for the kill when the old man blurted out the address. "Najordean Apartments, Route 17 in Emop Tay Town. Number 220, 226, something like that." Dan's tensed muscles relaxed, and he gave the woman a look of death. "Okay," Dan said, "let's go." * * * "You think it's true what they say about Fife?" Eacho asked from the passenger seat of Dan's car. They were driving down a busy road with a lots of traffic. "I don't know, man," Yophappen Dan replied. "We've had a lot of trouble, you know? This whole Aconck thing--the available universe becomes so much bigger. No way are Letevs, Polk, and Bavler gonna get along with the goals of research and non-aggression." "Yeah, and these engineers--trying to help Letevs cover up the damage he did to Red Alley Earth--and not telling Bavler about it at all!" "It's tough." "Yeah... I don't know Dan... I think this may be the straw that breaks the tapir's back, man. We take out the engineers, Letevs Fife is gonna revolt. And if Fife revolts, you know Polk Thewsike's gonna revolt too." "I know it." "So what happens to us?" "Us? We don't count. We're not in any camp. We're friends of Bavler. We stay neutral, and we stay with the Group." "Yeah. It's just--I don't know--all the extra time we've had--living in Bestroystraw's experiments--getting our powers--it's all so..." "Don't get all depressed about it, Eacho. Look, we took the challenge to the edge, and crossed over. We lived well over a lifetime. So just think of now as bonus. Bonus time." "I guess." The traffic was getting worse, and a few drops of rain began to fall in the early twilight. "Damn!" Dan yelled. "Gotta do something about this traffic!" "Ah, who cares. Paith Paper's not going anywhere. Now that we know the engineers are hung up." "Yeah, yeah." Dan honked his horn, and silence followed. "This Paith Paper," Eacho finally said, quietly, "she's just an innocent bystander in all this, right?" "Er, yes and no. She didn't ASK to become involved, but she IS a celebrity of sorts. She could make some noise." "That's why Twield Cleverdusk and Vapstadam want her dead?" Dan laughed. "Yes and no again. If she became a problem, it would be a Group problem. If there really is going to be a revolution, Fife'd probably want to keep her around to cause Bavler trouble. On the other hand, if they want to smooth this little affair over, and aren't interested in revolt, taking her out would be in their best interest." "And--" Eacho said. "--yeah?--" "--and, and--does not morality come into this? I mean, killing this poor innocent woman?" "She doesn't have any kids." "What's that got to do with it?" "Ah, it'd make it a little bit harder." There was silence for a time. Finally, Eacho spoke--again, softly. "Cuz I've been thinking, what if the orders come down for US to kill her." "Ah, don't worry about it. We'll talk to her. If she can conveniently disappear somewhere, there'll be no need to kill her. You gotta take this job with a grain of salt--no one knows exactly what's going on. So you fudge it a little bit here and there. Still, you gotta be willing to kill." "I know it," Eacho said, staring out the window at a laundromat. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 21: ORANGE UNIVERSE CHAPTER 3 SR-249 ============================== 21.3--Elevator Jones ============================== Paith Paper, the sweetheart of the bowling world, was dreaming. It was summer and hot and sticky. She was in front of a building in Skacerverd City, in her native Wehen Road. She was waiting for someone. The street was jammed with all these miniature cars, all green and yellow. And these little monsters, kind of like children, were scrambling and hoarding all around the cars. Dream-Paith, sighed and shook her head--there were more tiny cars and evil child creatures every year. Soon the city would be unlivable. She looked around for a place to sit, 'cause her friend was late. But as she turned her head, a whole area by the building seemed to swing around, preventing her from seeing it. She tried this a few more times, and sighed again. Damn spatial anomalies. More and more every year. In the distance now, she saw her friend Ronhy coming. He was the weird long-haired guy who was making a documentary about her for a graduate school project. He was running in slow motion, against a strong wind, in the bright sun. As he ran he held something high above him. It was some sort of metal stick, maybe like a pipe or something. It took him awhile to get to Paith, travelling in that exaggerated manner the whole time. When he got to her, he was panting for breath and smiling. He was huge. Much bigger than she remembered him. Maybe eight feet tall, and massive. He grinned down at her, and held out the metal rod in presentation. She stared at it. The way he was holding it--it was as if he thought she'd know what it is. But she just started shaking her head "no". He smiled for a few more seconds, then spoke. His voice was unusually sweet and gentle, like heavenly chimes. "Do you know what it is?" "Uh, no Ronhy." "I'll tell you." "Um, okay." "It's a thing from the deep hamlets of Brendahen Coastal." "Yeah?" "Yes. It's an elevator jones. See?" "No." Ronhy laughed, and put a giant hand on Paith's shoulder. "Come on Paith, I'll show it too you." Paith raised an eyebrow. "Not that!" he yelled in good humor. "This!" He shook the elevator jones. She smiled and followed him into the building. They got to an elevator bay. It was a hotel or office center or something they were in. One of the elevators opened, and some people got on. He turned to her. "We have to get on alone." "Okay." They waited a minute, and another elevator opened. No one else was in sight. "This is it," Ronhy said smiling. She followed him into the elevator, worried he wouldn't fit at his new size, but he had no problem. Maybe he wasn't so big after all. With his foot blocking the door from closing, Ronhy then started unscrewing something in the middle of the elevator jones. She saw two rubber pads flip out of either side of the thing. Then, Ronhy extended the device so that one end rested on each side of the elevator. A few more twists, and the elevator jones was tight in place. "Whew!" Ronhy let out. "Now we're ready." He moved his foot away from the door, and a few moments later the elevator closed. As soon as the doors were shut, a bunch of dull, dirty lights came to life in the elevator jones. A smell of ozone, like during a rain, pervaded the elevator. Ronhy fiddled with some controls on his device, and soon they began moving. Up, it felt like. She looked around the cab--something was different--the lighting maybe? After about half-a-minute, there was a big jolt, and the back of the elevator was gone. Through the open space, she saw that they were racing forward through a subterranean passage, oddly lit with purple light. "What the hell is going on?" she yelled over the din of their passage. "Jonesin'!" Ronhy yelled, and then he laughed a maniacal laugh. She pressed her body against the elevator door, unable to take her eyes off the cavern rushing by. But soon, the purple light got brighter and brighter, and a few moments later became a solid gray glare. The wall swung back into place and Ronhy crouched down. "Come on!" he said, motioning with his hand for her to crouch as well. Now he seemed smaller than usual, approaching midget level. She complied and crouched. "Hold on to your bowling bag!" he said, covering his head with his hands. She half-heartedly did the same. A rumble turned into a roar, and the air pressure around them increased dramatically. It pressed on her ears and the rumbling got quieter, but she could feel that it was getting heavier. The tumult grew for another minute or two, and then, when she felt she couldn't take it anymore, it stopped. The air pressure returned to normal in a cool breeze, and she felt light. She looked up. Now it was the top of the elevator that was gone. And beyond it--grass. Well-tended grass. Were they somewhere with a grass ceiling? Ronhy looked up and smiled. Standing, he grasped the elevator jones with both hands. "Come on," he said, looking down at her. "Grab onto it!" He was back to normal size now. Paith was glad. She got up, and staring into Ronhy's eyes, lightly grasped the rod. "Hold on tight," he said, as he moved his face toward the device. He positioned his nose next to a control switch, and pressed it. Immediately, gravity shifted--up was down, down was up. Paith just managed to keep hold as she was swung unceremoniously around, to find herself dangling above the opening, now below her. It was a pretty good drop. "On the count of three, I'm gonna release the jones. We'll fall, but the jones will slow us down a little. We'll be fine." "Okay." "Alright. One... two... three!" He flicked a switch with his thumb, and the elevator jones. released it's grip on the walls, and they quickly fell. Paith found herself on the grass a second later, none the worse for wear. Her arms were still straight up, holding onto the device, but Ronhy let it down, and Paith let go. He looked over at her. "Welcome to a garden." "Huh?" She looked around, and as far as the eye could see there rested a wonderful garden, complete with pathways, mazes, gazebos, covered walkways, all that. She wandered around the garden with Ronhy for an indeterminate period of time. Finally, she found herself in a large area totally covered with branches and vines, like a big room. "Wow," she said, regarding Ronhy's elevator jones. "That thing is sure great. You can make any elevator like that?" "Yup. It does a whole bunch of stuff." "Cool. Wish I had one in... well, um... this is a dream, right? I always get cool things in dreams and wind up--I don't know--disappointed when I wake up." "Why not use Deer Express?" "What?" "Deer Express. They make deliveries from Dreamworld to Reality. Should be just what you're looking for." "What do you mean?" "I'll show you. All you have to do is remember a chant--don't worry, not a boring religious one--more like a little nursery rhyme." "Yeah?" "Yeah. I'll say it, and they'll come. You'll see." "Hey, knock yourself out," Paith said, looking away, poopooing the whole matter. Ronhy softly recited the chant. "Slumber revel is the dream, things aren't always what they seem, sometimes if I have a thing, home with me I'd like to bring, I sing aloud this little chant, you come to do it, since I can't, I'll pay your price, and nothing less, I call to you, Deer Express." Paith laughed a little. "Cute." She looked over at Ronhy, but he just smiled. A moment later, she heard the sound of a galloping horse approaching. Turning, she saw a horse indeed round a corner and come into the clearing. It was going fast--but she saw that the rider... had antlers. The horse stopped in front of them, and she got a good look at the rider--he had the body of a man, but the head of a deer. Well, maybe he was all-deer, just shaped like a man. He wore an ornate outfit with military overtones, and his eyes blazed with awareness and intelligence. Paith wore a worried expression and turned to Ronhy. "Oh ye of little faith..." he said under his breath. "Greetings," the deer man said. "I am Courier Arbhay. I respond to your call." Ronhy stood up. "Uh, yes," he said, speaking carefully. "I chanted on behalf of my friend here, Paith Paper. She expressed a desire to take things from her dreams. This, in particular, for now." He held up the elevator jones. The deer man looked at it, then over to Paith. The rider smiled. "You're going to like what I have to tell you Paith Paper--" the supernatural being said. "Someone registered an account with us, on your behalf." "What?" "Your account is in surplus--you may use our service many, many times without owing anything." "Yeah?" "That's pretty good," Ronhy said. "The toll they charge is pretty extreme." "Like what?" Paith asked of the deer guy. "There are a variety of ways to pay. Dream indenture. Soul fire. Time. Right usage. And many others." "What, you have to sell your soul?" she asked. "Not so extreme. Just something like lending your soul, perhaps." "I thought I said this was a dream," Paith said. "So none of this is real." The deer man smiled again. "If you say so, this device your dreamfriend holds will be delivered to your door--in Reality--by me, this morning." "Why not! Yeah, go ahead. Do it," Paith said. Then she looked over at Ronhy. "Are you really in this dream?" "No," the rider said. "He is dreamfriend, nothing more. A fragment of your own mind." "Oh. So how come he knew about you?" The courier glared down at Paith. "It is YOU who know about us. Your benefactor delivered the information to your subconscious. At least, that's what makes the most sense." "Okay," she said. "So go ahead, deliver the elevator jones to me." "I shall," Arbhay said. "Come friend, hand the thing to me." Ronhy walked forward and gave Arbhay the elevator jones. The deer man looked it over. "Cute," he said. "I shall see you after you wake up. You will be shocked to see me--please stay calm." "I'll be okay," Paith said. "Good. See you soon." And Courier Arbhay rode off. "That was weird," Paith said. "Yeah," Ronhy responded. They wandered around the garden some more, for an indeterminate amount of time. * * * Paith Paper woke up, having to piss badly. She got up and relieved herself in the bathroom, and as she did, bits and pieces of the night's dreams came to her. The bad elevator. Ronhy. The weird stick he used--the elevator jones. The garden. The deer guy, who said he'd deliver the elevator jones to her in reality. Hah. Her doorbell rang, and she froze, there on the toilet. It was very rare for someone to be at her door this early in the morning. Thoughts flashed and scratched. The deer guy? Nah. Probably some religious nut trying to convert her. She took care of herself and got up, putting a robe on. She stood by the door, silent for a moment. No sound. Carefully then, she opened the door--just a crack at first, then all the way. No one there. A chill ran up her spine. A second later she heard the sound of a galloping horse. Moments after that she saw it--the horse with the antlered rider, coming fast down the street. She tried to convince herself she was still dreaming, but there was no way--this was reality. She got a sinking feeling as the deer guy quickly approached. The feeling sank deeper when she saw the package the deer man was carrying in a saddle pack. It was sticking out. It was wrapped up, but it couldn't have been anything else than the elevator jones from the dream. For some reason, she became extremely calm, and watched as Courier Arbhay rode into her driveway, dismounted, and walked right up to her with the package. "Good to see you again," he said as he climbed the steps to her little porch. She couldn't find any words. "Here's your package, fresh from Dreamworld," he said, handing her the elevator jones. She took it limply in her hands. "Here," Arbhay said, producing a clipboard. "I need your signature." She stared dumbly at the document. "No, no," he said. "Nothing devious. Just an acknowledgment of receipt." She nodded and signed the piece of paper. "Thanks," he said. "Is..." Paith began, looking Arbhay right in the eyes. "Yes?" "Is there anything I should... know about this?" He regarded her. "About Deer Express or the delivery?" "Both." "What can I say? We deliver objects from dreams to Reality. Even extremely strange things--like the device you hold." She looked up at the majestic being. "How do I know I'm still not dreaming?" He smiled. "Everyone asks that. But if you think about it, the experience of Reality is clearly different than the experience of dreaming. You should be able to tell the difference." Paith looked down. "I know." There was an awkward silence that Arbhay broke. "Uh... I know this may sound bad, but I was wondering if, uh... if you might like to go out with me sometime." Paith looked up, a skeptical and bewildered look on her face. "What?" "I understand if you're not comfortable with it. I mean, I must seem pretty scary to you." "I... I..." "You don't have to respond. I'm not going to push it. If the administrators ever got wind of this--of a Courier trying to get involved with a client, well..." "Well what?" "I'd be in some very hot water." "Yeah?" "Oh yeah." She studied him. Definitely attractive, very human-seeming. But still, a lotta deer going on... "How could we go out? I mean, everyone will freak out seeing you." "They'll see me the way I want them to see me. You'd be surprised how many folks there are out there cloaking their true bodies. I mean a lot." "Yeah?" "Yeah. So that part would be no problem." "But... you mean here, in Reality...? "Yeah. No good to do it in Dreamworld." "Uh-huh." "So look--think about it. If you give me the go-ahead, I'll be back here in a week's time for the answer." "You could do that." "Good. And I'll be listening for your chant. Hopefully I'll get to you before anyone else does." "Okay." "I have to go now. See you in a week if not sooner. I... I think you're beautiful. The most beautiful woman I've ever seen." "Thank you." And he rode off. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 21: ORANGE UNIVERSE CHAPTER 4 SR-250 ============================== 21.4--Lemon ============================== Lemon woke up. The devil girl, remember? She opened her eyes and was hit full force with the ornate ceiling of the banquet hall of Stormbolthouse Leitmotif. "Yuck," she said, sitting up. Immediately, an extreme dizziness hit her. She grabbed her pitchfork, which was lying on the ground beside her, and muttered a simple spell, which relieved the disorientation a great deal. "What the..." She surveyed the scene--a room full of sleepers--just about the entire population of Daptin's Land, she mused. Standing up, she used her pitchfork for support and made a thought grimace. Okay, she thought, I remember flirting with that nice Wreckage Mallie--there he is, knocked out like the rest. She poked Mallie with the end of her weapon. "Hey there, kid--wake up!" Mallie rolled over and began snoring. "Hmph!" Lemon said in frustration. As she continued looking around, a smile came to her face. With everyone out for the count, she could snoop around this big spaceship! Heh heh heh. But was snooping good? When she rejected her infernal heritage, Lemon had to solemnly swear to always do good in her life. Wasn't sneaking around--well--nasty? Nah! The others were probably in trouble, and by exploring, she could be helping them out--maybe even saving their lives! So she carefully stepped over a number of dozing bodies and made for one of the exits. The hallway beyond seemed like some sort of central corridor. She followed it a ways, and then turned down a smaller hall. The way soon curved to the right and ended in a huge vaultlike door. She stared up at it. Really big. Made her look like a little yellow devil doll. So she tapped on it with her pitchfork. It felt solid. Real solid. Looking around and behind her, Lemon smiled a devious smile. A door no one should be able to go through. But she could. Her pitchfork could break down the gates of heaven and hell--for sure it could take on this pipsqueak. She uttered an arcane spell for the better part of a minute, and then gently touched the pitchfork to the door. The moment contact was made there was a shocklike pop, and the air rushed in to fill the little vacuum that grew around the now-mangled and ruined vault door. She surveyed her handicraft. The door was way gone. Blown apart. Huh. It'd been as thick through as it was high. Really musta wanted to keep people out, whoever put it there! So she stepped through the wreckage and into... Hmm... A big chamber, circular, white marble walls. And a thing floating in the middle--like the shape of a cut tree segment, a very wide, flat cylinder. Whatever. It was also made of the same white marble, and like the walls, was arranged with a number of flat panels. The hovering thing bulged at the top and bottom, like a lens--and when Lemon looked, she saw that the room did the same thing. Whatever was going on here, the room was custom fit to hold this thing. She walked around the room and saw that indeed, the thing was freefloating. There were no visible openings at all on it at all, but she got the impression that there was something inside. So she willed her pitchfork to lift her up, and she flew up, reaching out and touching the marble. The moment she did, the whole thing went transparent, and she saw what it contained--a plush, ornate couch in full circle, deep violet in color, facing inwards. That was it. The marble walls were still partially visible, and when she touched it, it was still solid. She floated around the whole thing, but no luck. Then she flew underneath it, and when she was centered underneath it, she felt a force tugging her upward. She eased on her own flight and let the force lift her. It did so gently, and then moved her over to one side, depositing her on the carpeted floor within. "Very weird," she said, delighted with the whole situation. A puzzle to solve. She loved puzzles. She looked around for a few moments, but nothing was happening, so she sat down on the couch. Immediately, things changed. It was like--the thing changed. No--it didn't change--she was in a whole different place. It had a couch like the thing she was in before, but it was a very different shade of purple, on the red side. And there was a lot of stuff going on here--a lot of brass piping and junk. And windows--looking out at... What? She got up, walked a little set of stairs out of the well the couch surrounded, and looked out. A sprawling city far below. Was she in some sort of flying vehicle now? Very weird. She turned around and scanned the area. That one window... no, it wasn't just tinted--there was something else outside that one window. And a chill ran up her spine. She slowly circled the couch area, staring at the odd window the whole time. Yeah, definitely. Something different out there. It was... A huge courtyard with a glass ceiling, very profound-looking. And a fountain in the middle, a wonderful fountain. And hovering above it were a bunch of letters, and they spelled... DEER EXPRESS Lemon lifted her leg and kicked the window with all her might. It should have broken, but it didn't. The force of her kick was so great, though, that she was propelled backward across the chamber, slamming into another window. It didn't break either. Stunned for a moment, Lemon shook her head and got up, staring down the offending window. "Ooh, you're gonna pay for that!" Lemon said, and as she crossed the room, she began reciting her gatebreaker spell again. Her pitchfork hummed in anticipation. She finished up the spell and was about to blow the window away when she saw something in the huge chamber beyond the portal. She paused. A horse and rider, entering the chamber from the far side. And the rider--some sort of deer man. Cute, Lemon thought. Nice horns. She watched him begin to cross the chamber, then raised her pitchfork. Right when she was about to strike, though, a commotion broke loose in the chamber. A whole bunch of giant, furry, mammalian turtles with deer heads began to emerge from every opening in the chamber, and they began to surround the rider. Lemon saw a look of such utter horror on his face... "Gotta help him!" Lemon yelled as she touched her pitchfork to the window. The window and the wall around it were blown away, but the chamber and the imperiled rider were receding, pulling away into a gray void. Without another thought, she leapt as hard as she could, and when she landed on the chamber floor, a shock rang through her body. She was totally winded and stunned. She opened her eyes, and through the wild ringing in her ears she could hear the dreadful deer-turtle things chanting accusations is deep, earthquake tones. "Hey, leave him alone!" she yelled as she struggled to recover from the shock of crossing into this place through the gray void. Immediately, all the deer-turtles swung their heads around and began screeching at her. "Shut up!" she bellowed, and in the next instant, one of the creatures leapt a great distance across the chamber and landed right on top of her. "Aaahhh!" Lemon exclaimed in horror as the thing put its full weight on her. Evil saliva dripped from the monster's snapping deer jaws, full of razor sharp fangs. And she felt arcane energies swirling around her, seeking to bind her. Lemon was being crushed. She shut her eyes tight and fought--not the creature, but herself. She could feel the hellfire burning within her, and she wanted to hold it back. She didn't want to go back to what she was. Tears leaked past her eyelids as she tried to hold back. But the beast began biting, tearing at her face. And she couldn't move--somehow it had cast a spell on her. There was no way to hold back, no way. Paralyzed! Biting her face! Aaaaaahhhhhhgggggghhhhhh! She screamed forth a banshee wail of hellpower, letting loose with all the fury and darkness within her. She opened her eyes just in time to see a momentary look of bafflement of the monsters face as the flesh was washed from its head in her infernal wail. In just a few seconds, it was a clean deer skull that was glaring down at her. Then it went limp, and collapsed on top of her. With a grunt she slipped out from under the horrid corpse, huffing and puffing as she used her pitchfork for support in getting up. Across the chamber, several of the deer-turtles began to walk slowly toward her, chanting unknowable magicks. Another of them bit the leg of the horse the deer guy was riding on. The horse turned gray, then stumbled, then fell apart. The deer dude managed to land on his feet, but seemed helpless, surrounded by the monsters. Her hellpower still surging, she transferred a huge flow of it to her pitchfork. It rang with energy, and she could have sworn it said "Yeah!" She blasted forth fire from the pitchfork, and managed to immolate one of the deer-turtles, reducing it to ashes in seconds. The rest of the monsters leapt like toads, disappearing in all directions. The deer guy stood in stunned silence, staring at her. She must have looked pretty evil, all that hellpower surging through her. Not a great first impression. "Are you okay?" Lemon said, sounding quite unearthly and infernal. "Y-yeah," he said. "I think." She turned around to see if there were any signs of the gray void or the chamber, but there were none. She returned her gaze to the deer guy. "What happened?" she said. "Um, basically I was about to be, uh, killed. So uh, thanks for uh, saving me." "Where is this?" Lemon said as she advanced. She wanted to let the hellpower in her calm down, but she knew there might be more fights in the air. "Huh?" the deer guy said, backing up a little. "Where am I?" "This is the headquarters of Deer Express," he said, then glancing over at the fountain with the letters floating above it, added "I guess you figured that much out already." "No." "Can't read?" "I can read. I just didn't know what it means." "Oh. So--so who are you?" "I'm Lemon. Lucky for you I wandered in here." "Yeah," the deer guy said hesitantly, looking around. "Will they be back?" "Um--eventually. Thing is, there's no way out. So..." "But I got in." "You can go out the same way?" he asked as Lemon stopped a few feet away from him. "I don't think so," she said, looking up at him. The deer guy sighed. "Oh." "So who are you?" she asked. "Me? I'm Courier Arbhay. Until they kill me, that is." "They won't kill you. I'll protect you." He regarded her. "Why?" "Because I've sworn to do good for other people." He nodded. "How do we get out of here?" she said after a few moments of silence. "I--" Arbhay said, shrugging, "--I don't know. I thought I was just gonna die. Get outta here that way." "Hmm," Lemon said as she stared at the letters floating over the fountain. DEER EXPRESS. Each letter was fantastically ornate, covered in patterns, gold and silver inlay, rare woods, and the like. She climbed up onto the fountain and grabbed the S at the end of the word. She had to tug on it a little, but it soon came loose from whatever was holding it suspended in the air. She hopped down and examined the object. "Nice," she said, nodding. Arbhay stepped back. "You can't do that!" he said. "No?" she said, pulling a little piece of yellow cloth from one of her pants pockets. She fiddled with it, and soon it expanded into a large sack. She dropped the S into it. Arbhay looked on in horror as Lemon jumped back onto the fountain and started plucking the rest of the letters out of their places and stashing them in her sack. "Don't do that!" Arbhay yelled as Lemon splashed into the fountain to reach more letters. "Hey!" But she was oblivious, frolicking in the water and stealing cool stuff. She had to jump up to get the letters in DEER. She hung onto each letter for a few moments before it came loose. Soon she was totally drenched with her bulging sack of eleven letters. As she stepped out of the fountain, she heard Arbhay exclaim "Shit!". She jumped off the fountain and wiped the hair and water out of her eyes to see... what? A glowing, androgynous, human-looking person. Beautiful, fragile features, orange and blue robes, massive antlers. Man! The antlers were bigger than her/him! And in one eye, the right, a single teardrop. Lemon felt a terrible lot of power focused on this individual. But she looked at the too-perfect face and was filled with rage. Without thinking, she shot out her fist and punched the stranger straight in the nose, with massive force. The being swayed and fell, its glow diminishing but not vanishing. She looked to Arbhay. He was speechless. "Who was that?" Lemon asked. "God..." Arbhay said hesitantly, taking a guilty peek at the peaceful-looking unconscious entity on the floor. "So?" "I don't know. But we're really in trouble now, Lemon." "Nonsense. I said I'd protect you and I will. Now all we gotta do is find some way outta here." Arbhay looked around nervously. "There is no way out," he said. Then he stared at her sack and added "Except..." "What?" "Those letters--I've heard rumors that they hold devastating secrets. Maybe they can get us out. Gimme an E." Courier Arbhay took the ornate letter E and frantically examined it. "What are you expecting it to do?" Lemon asked. "Teleport us outta here or something?" "I hope so..." Arbhay said distantly. "Thing is, if we don't get out of here soon, they may just drop this whole place." "What?" "Drop it. Nuke it," Arbhay said, turning his gaze to Lemon. "Call it what you will. We just better not be here when it happens." Then suddenly, it all went dark. Lemon muttered a spell, and kept on muttering even after she stopped hearing her voice, even after she stopped feeling her lips move, her vocal chords vibrate. The next thing she knew, she was on a toilet, wiping herself. It was in a public restroom sort of stall, and the door was broken. It started to swing open, and she felt a distant urge to jump up and shut it, but she didn't. As it swung all the way open, she saw a man halfway in the door, grabbing a soap dispenser. Her looked at her with wide eyes. "Whoah," he said. His eyes moved reflexively to the naked lower part of her body. She looked down at herself, and quickly realized that it was not herself, but someone else's body. "Hello," she said calmly. "Why don't you come on in. If my body pleases you so much, I might just show you more of it." The man looked wary. He was kind of short, a broad, toward ugly face, stubble, business suit. He let go of the soap dispenser and looked around outside of the door. "What is this place?" he said, stepping fully into the rest room. "I was about to ask you something similar," Lemon said. "Mind shutting the door there while I finish my business?" "Uh, no," the man said as he awkwardly stepped forward and shut the door. Since it had swung inward, he had to get close to Lemon to close it. He made an attempt to avert his eyes from her legs, belly, and pubic hair, with little success. Lemon laughed under her breath, finished up, and pulled her skirt back up. Huh. A skirt. After flushing, Lemon opened the stall door and stepped up to the sink, where she stared into the mirror while washing her hands. An okay body. Pale red wavy hair, hints of freckles on an interesting, woods mischief sort of face. Tan business attire. Very prim and neat. "Are you Courier Arbhay?" Lemon asked as she turned to face the man. "Uh... yes. I am." "Well I'm Lemon. Remember, the little devil girl who came outta nowhere to save you?" "I remember," he said. "What happened?" "What do you mean?" "I mean just before--you said they were gonna nuke the place. Something like that." "Guess they did." "What?" "They dropped it. They saw what you were doing and just dumped the whole thing. "That whole place?" "Yeah. It was just part of a place." She regarded Arbhay in his new unfortunate form. "Well I managed to cast a last resort spell. That's probably what saved us." "I didn't think you could be saved from that..." Arbhay said distantly. Lemon looked back into the mirror. "So here we are. Stuck in these silly human bodies." Arbhay stood beside Lemon, regarding his new face as well, rubbing it. "Always wanted to try one of these," he said. "One of what?" "Human bodies." "Hmm," she grunted in response. He looked at her. "Oughtn't we try and establish the situation parameters?" "Huh?" "Don't we need to find out what's going on?" "Nothin' stoppin' ya, deer." "I know, but..." "Damn!" Lemon said, finally managing to get the clips loose from her hair, letting it flow down. "There now, that's better." Arbhay continued to stare at the girl. "Let me try a spell," she said, and then chanted something under her breath. Her eyes glazed over and became unfocused. "Yes..." she said. "It's all clear to me now..." "What?" "I see the whole rotten thing. Oh yes." "What is it?" But Lemon continued her trance for the better part of a minute, until she finally bowed her head, coughed, and rubbed her eyes. "Hell of a story," Lemon said. "What was it?" Arbhay said urgently. "Well. Seems that these two winners here had a problem. The guy, you, innocently tried to get some soap from the ladies room, here, being that there was none left in the little boy's room. Enter the gal, me, using the stall with the terminal door. Seems you have to close it JUST RIGHT, or the thing'll swing open at the slightest vibration. Anyway, we saw what happened--the door swings open, the guy reaches for the soap, there the gal is, exposed, tidying herself up, and the guy looks. Perfectly innocent. He rushes out, but the incident gets under her skin. Soon she's reporting the guy to her superiors, and, sensitive to such stuff, they immediately suspend the guy pending further review." "Wow." "Yes. But the guy loses it. He follows the woman home, and kills her and her family, then cuts his own throat." "Ouch." "Yeah. But I found something else out. This spell of mine prods reality into giving me the big picture of what's going on. This woman's live-in boyfriend, a research assistant at a nearby university, was going to foul up big time tonight. He was gonna use a bat from the lab to play a practical joke on his fraternity pals." "Yeah?" "Well the bat, see, carries this killer virus. It goes nuts and infects a few of the kids. Later on tomorrow, the whole city's goin' nuts. Everyone's tryin' to get out--that kills more people than the virus!" "You're seeing the future?" "I think so. And this event--this tragedy--was what prevented a huge disaster which, if things kept going like I saw, could've wiped out this entire world." "So what do we do?" "I don't know. I don't want you to kill me, I know that." "I won't." "Good." "So where did you get this information, anyway? From reality, you said?" "Yeah. It was all just--there. Very clear." "Are you sure it's accurate?" "Pretty." "Huh. Guess we have to stop this kid from doing the bat joke and stuff." "Guess." "So why don't we look around, get started?" Arbhay said. "Fine. Lead on." So they went out into a hallway and then into a bay of offices separated by divider walls. "Remind me to make something like this the centerpiece if I ever rule Hell," Lemon said. "Yeah," Arbhay said with a laugh. Then Lemon froze. "What's the matter?" "The calendar. It says 46." "So?" "So I clearly saw 45 in the vision. The 45th was the day the incident happened." "Maybe the calendar is wrong?" "No--it makes sense now. Find a clock--it's all gonna happen real soon..." "Okay, okay! There's one over here I think!" Arbhay yelled, as a bunch of workers began to take notice. "16 o'clock!" Lemon yelled. "The city will be in total mayhem a few hours from now! We gotta get out! Something like--getting money--all the money these two people have--get the next train out! Get out before the panic." "Crap," Arbhay said. "Huh?" "Crap. You know what I think's going on? I think this is dreality." "Huh?" "Dreality--a place which is exactly one-half reality and one-half dream. I mean, look at this convoluted story you saw in a 'vision'. Half-baked... dreamlike." "So?" "So--even though stupid things happen here, it's real--so you can still die and everything." "Aw!" Lemon exclaimed. "That's a stupid idea. 'Dreality'--hah!" "I know it's stupid, but look what's going on around us." "I don't know... I mean--you're saying that..." "I mean," Arbhay said with conviction, "that we left from Deer Express headquarters. A place where... where the space between dream and reality is traversed--I do it myself every day!" Lemon squinted her eyes at Arbhay in skepticism. "What's Deer Express all about, anyway?" Before Arbhay could answer, a large, balding man came up to them. "What's going on guys?" he said. Lemon regarded the man with contempt. "None of your business, I'm sure." Arbhay smiled, but held himself back from laughing. The man looked confused. "No problem," he said, looking at the two in turn. "Just wanted to let you know that Mr. Stanley is nearby." "I care nothing of you or your Mr. Stanley," Lemon said in a nasty tone. "Get away from me!" "Hey..." the guy said with a smile, laughing--as in, what are you gonna do about it, little woman? "Yah!" Lemon yelled as she hit the man in the side of his head with the back of her fist. He flew sideways and slammed into an office partition, which his momentum knocked over. This cause a chain reaction of about half-a-dozen partitions. In ten seconds, all was still again. "Fuck!" Lemon exclaimed. "I knew it! I knew that if I used my powers too much I'd start turning evil again! Fuck!" A group of workers in business suits gathered around the wreckage and looked at Lemon. She glowered at them, then turned to Arbhay. "What did you say about this place--about it not being real. Please tell me this murder I just committed wasn't real." "I..." Arbhay said. "I can't say for sure. It's just, my best guess is that we're... somewhere... BETWEEN... dream and reality." "I don't think so," Lemon said, shaking her head. "Not at all." Arbhay paused, feeling the silence all around them like a terrible pressure. "Why?" he finally said. "Let me shred," she said. She swept her arm upward in a swift motion, and it left a dark tear in the air. She stepped back from it. "Look," she said. Arbhay furrowed his brow--a lot easier to do with a human face than with a deer one. "What did you do there?" "I've fouled this place with an infernal maw," she said. "Huh?" "If we're being manipulated, whoever's doing it is gonna start to feel pretty bad." "Why?" "Because of the nature of the shred," Lemon said, staring distantly at the jagged arc of blackness in the air. "But who would be doing that?" "I don't know. All I know is, if he or she is listening--YOU FEEL THAT? THAT'S JUST ONE! I CAN DO AS MANY AS I WANT. NOW STOP THIS!" Arbhay exhaled sharply, shocked at the unearthly tone in Lemon's voice--weirded by the human vocal chords she was currently employing. Her words echoed, and all the people were looking at her in fascination. Then suddenly, the two heard a voice from behind them. "HEY!" They turned around--to see Granticaine Chug Perion standing there, holding a massive rifle. "You..." Lemon said. "You--Daptin's friend!" "I am Daptin's friend," Granticaine said, confused. Lemon squinted as she glowered at him. "You're behind this?" "Behind what, woman?" Lemon smiled. "Of course you don't recognize me. I'm in this terrific little human body for the time being. But I know you. And you know me." Granticaine raised his eyebrows as Lemon continued. "Yeah, you know me. I'm Lemon." "Lemon--THE Lemon, from Yellowhaus?" "Yup." "Interesting." "Why is it interesting?" Lemon said, regretting the tone of begging in her voice. "Because," Granticaine said, "you are in Gnoboslast." "What?" Arbhay said sharply, taking a step forward. "Gnoboslast," Granticaine repeated. "What the heck is that?" Lemon asked. "I heard that name once," Arbhay said. "In a madman's dream. He... he summoned me with an archaic version of the chant. And he kept... he kept begging me for... for this thing called... called Gnoboslast. I... I had no idea what he was talking about. Then he just... he just suddenly woke up and I never heard anything from him again. But I never reported the incident. I don't know why, I just..." Lemon walked in angry, toward kid in tantrum strides, up to Granticaine. "So what is this, huh? The world between dream and reality? Dreality, as some people call it?" she said, looking back at Arbhay. "No," Granticaine said simply. "So what is it?" Lemon said through tensed mouth, stressing each word. "It's wheverythingsusk. That's the only word that comes to mind to describe it," Granticaine said. Lemon muttered a spell, and her eyes widened in scandal. "Hah! It makes sense now!" "You make sense of this place?" Granticaine asked softly. "No idiot. I just see the outline. How powers clash. Serious infernal fires stumbling into the world of deers and dreams. That slash, that jolt, opens up something deeper." "Yes," Granticaine said, dawning. "That sounds similar to what happened to us--back in the cupslip world--when the powers of Aconck technology collided with the force of the Cup of Coffee." Lemon started to feel dizzy. "I feel like we're in some sort of dank, musty wine cellar," she said. "Silent and echoless." "I have that same feeling," Arbhay said. "Well I know something you don't," Granticaine said. "And the way leads to Butterscotch Hold." * * * Butterscotch Hold was a way of life. The buzzword all round was "imperfection". Lemon and Courier Arbhay sat in an alcove facing the vastness of Gnoboslast. The Hold was like an enormous hemisphere at a 45 degree angle--like a theater, Gnoboslast the stage. "This place just feels so HEAVY," Lemon said, sitting on the super-shaggy butterscotch-colored carpet. She sat with her legs folded to the side underneath her--a very innocent-looking pose. "Yeah," Arbhay said, sitting astride a big, dark wood chair, resting his folded arms on its ornate back. They were back in their normal bodies. The transformation back was a painful and vexing one. See, as Granticaine led them here, their real bodies started to break through the old ones. The pressure of their true forms built inside of them, and clumsily began to tear and rip the false bodies from the inside. Most of this process occurred during a month-long trek across Special Black Terrain, a dark, barren nowhere of Gnoboslast. The horns were the first things to start breaking through. Lemon's were easy, but Arbhay's antlers were a bitch. Whatever was happening, it could only happen in Gnoboslast. There were a few weeks when both of them looked terrible and experienced a dull, horrific pain. Fingers bursting out of other fingers, eyes forcing other eyes aside, legs ripping out of the sides of other legs. Gnoboslast was like nowhere else. The whole journey to Butterscotch Hold took two months--but it may as well have been forever. No day or night, no eating, no breathing. A more basic form of just being there. Scary. "I hate how this place... has taken away all my concern, all my energy. I should be trying to get us out of here, but I just don't care anymore. I wish I did, Arbhay." "I know what you mean. And I... I was looking forward to a very lucrative and sensually pleasurable afterlife. It was... almost a lock. But now... I doubt I have any access there any more." Lemon smiled a crooked smile. "Sorry for saving your life, antler brain." "No, it's not--I mean, I didn't want to die. It's just--this is sort of LIKE being dead... and I would have preferred the afterlife I invested so much of myself in..." They looked out at Gnoboslast. Dwaralah Field--bands of states, flowingly changing much slower than clouds. The black one with the colorful pyrotechnics ever above it, the precious metal cubes of the checkerboard one, the one of all the floors and the shadows of the feet that walked them, the feather and fur one, like living mountains, the huge granite one, always with one whiskey bottle somewhere on it. And the foundation--brown and black miasma, with electric blue energy discharges. All of this, all over. Sometimes a sky, sometimes not. All kinds of skies. Sometimes the sky was a beautiful ocean, sometimes like a ripped pair of blue jeans. This was Gnoboslast Winterhome, the part of Gnoboslast they were observing. Butterscotch Hold was an ideal auditorium to observe it all. You could spend hundreds of years watching. Indeed, it would take hundreds of years to start to understand it. "We really have to help Daptin," Lemon said, head in hand. "I know. He sounds like a real nice... whatever he is. God." "Yeah, he is. Godhood is sexy in a man." "Mm hmm." She looked up at Arbhay. "How is it he could be so weak? In the world he himself created?" Arbhay shrugged, and Lemon continued. "I mean, it was so obvious--Spanking New Sarah was the queen for him! You know! She was perfect. But no--those two snakes, Booze and Sleap--they did Daptin but good." "Yup." "Slaverceth knows what they were looking for, if this place was just a wrong number!" Arbhay sighed. "I mean, Arbhay my dear, what the heaven? What could they want?" "I don't know," Arbhay said, in thought. "But if Zoipin and Granticaine are right about this Orange Universe place, we SHOULD be able to deal with those two, Red Archer Booze and Sleap Drassy." "I hope so. It's just--we've been here for a year already. And I... I feel I could just loungearound like this for another decade or something before I'd even start to feel antsy." Lemon smiled and continued. "Maybe that's what this place is all about--maybe it's the Anti-Antsiness Land." "Yeah..." "But--I know we always wonder about this, but what could have happened to the others? If Zoipin and Grant were just... just tossed into Gnoboslast for trying to help Daptin, what could have happened to the rest of them? To the rest of my adopted family in Yellowhaus? I... I care a little about it all. And in this place, caring about anything is so... so impossible..." "Yeah." Then the two heard the distant megaphoned voice of Granticaine Chug Perion. "Attention. Attention Courier Arbhay and Lemon. Please return to the Phone Center immediately. We have contact with Orange Universe. Repeat, we have contact." There were a few moments of nasty feedback, then all was quiet again. Arbhay and Lemon looked at each other. "I could kinda care about that," Lemon said. * * * Forget about the trip to Orange Universe, it took forever, cuz now Courier Arbhay, Lemon, Granticaine Chug Perion, and Zoipin Jurple Jupter all stood on a platform, slowly taking in the majesty of the place. Orange plastic pipes, shiny, is what it was all made of. And in the background, a dark blue-gray color. Fifty cyan, fifty black, you might call it. As the four stood and waited, they spied a little monkey scrambling toward them at great speed. Soon they heard his excited screeching. He continued barreling toward them along a rail, and when he was almost upon them, he stopped abruptly and instantly held up a sign attached to a stick, reading "I'M FOXXO". "Looks like we have our first contact," Granticaine said. "I don't think that's the one we were talking to, though," Zoipin said. "Hello there!" Lemon said, approaching the monkey. "So your name is Foxxo?" The monkey looked at Lemon and made a few monkey smiles. Then he put the sign behind his back, and with his other hand, produced another sign, also from behind his back, this one reading. "THAT'S ME! HOW ABOUT YOU?" Lemon furrowed her brow in puzzlement. "My name is Lemon. How do you do that with the signs?" Again, Foxxo put the one sign away and produced another one with his other hand. It read "DO WHAT?" "Hm!" Lemon uttered. "Uh, Foxxo..." Granticaine said, getting the monkey's attention. "My name is Granticaine Chug Perion. I had a brief conversation with someone called America. Do you know of this person?" The monkey produced another sign: "SURE! BOLT CUTTER AMERICA! SHE'S TOPS!" "Could you take us to her?" Zoipin asked. "NO PROBLEM," Foxxo displayed. Then he put the sign away and started scampering back the way he came, looking back frequently to see if the others were following, which they were. "This is some place," Arbhay said to Lemon as he looked around, marveling. "It sure is. Kind of reminds me of the fourteenth veil of Hell." Arbhay gave her an inquisitive/humorous look and Lemon laughed. And indeed, it was a remarkable sight. Like some sort of hallunatory plumber's nightmare. From where they were, they could see a vast city of pipes below them, with plains, walkways, stairways, buildings, ladders, statues of sea lions and drafting tools--even an enormous crater in the distance. "I like this place much better than Butterscotch Hold," Lemon said. "Yeah, me too. It's also better than that damn Whissing Hoard of Tense Situations at our Enter-Gnoboslast!" Arbhay said. "That's an understatement," the devil girl replied. They followed Foxxo along the walkway for a ways, then up a huge flight of stairs. At the top, they saw someone. She wore a red, white, and blue outfit--white stars on blue fields, juxtaposing areas of red and white stripes. It was a flowing, loose-fitting costume. On her head was a top hat with the same color scheme, and in her left hand she held a large bolt cutter, also red, white, and blue. "Ho Foxxo, I see our mystery callers have arrived," the woman said. The monkey held up a sign, but since the four were behind him, they couldn't read it. The woman smiled. She had long, full-bodied blond hair, and a sturdy build. She looked like she'd be a good wife, a good mother, a good lover. "Hello!" Granticaine hailed, striding up the stairs with ease. "Are you the one--" He paused as he almost tripped over an oddly-shaped step on the staircase, but he managed to quickly get his poise back. "--the one we spoke to?" "Yes," the woman said. "America?" Granticaine asked, as he finished the stairs and approached her. "That's me," the woman said. "Bolt Cutter America to be formal." She motioned toward the bolt cutter she held with a kind of embarrassed smile. Granticaine liked her. The first sexual feelings of any kind he'd had so far in his long stay in Gnoboslast. The two met eyes and stared at each other for longer than would normally be appropriate. Granticaine felt he was sharing some kind of subtle telepathic communication with her. Then he started to get some kind of vision--inside an abandoned factory--still, sunny day. There was an expectation, an excitement. But he caught the others approaching him out of the corner of his eye and lost contact with whatever it was. "We got somewhere in Gnoboslast," Zoipin said sarcastically. "Isn't that a rare treat." America smiled. "3," she said. "What's that?" Zoipin said wearily. "3. 3 times I remember people going somewhere in Gnoboslast. Me and my friends getting here. My lover Snoppy leaving here. And you guys coming here." "Your lover?" Granticaine asked, scratching a nasty itch on the back of his neck. "Yes," Bolt Cutter America said. "He came here with us, but he insisted on exploring. He disappeared, ages ago. But I guess that was the way it had to be. He couldn't wait for Orange Universe to turn." "Turn?" Zoipin asked. "Yes," America said, as Foxxo climbed up her and sat on her shoulder, no sign in sight. "There's a cycle to Orange Universe. May be opportunities to get back to existence later. That was what we were all waiting for. I was..." She looked down. "What is it?" Granticaine said, wanting to put his hand on her shoulder, but not being able to because there was a monkey there. She again locked eyes with Granticaine. "I was just... curious if you might have encountered Snoppy or someone similar out there..." "We encountered no one except our friends here," Granticaine said with a steely expression. "Except at Whissing," Zoipin said. "There appeared to be others there." "I don't know," Lemon chimed in. "Were they people are were they just part of the situation environment?" "It's hard to say," Zoipin said. "Don't bother yourselves over it," America said. "He would have gotten SOMEWHERE with a phone center by now. He must have just gotten lost." "How long ago was this?" Arbhay asked. "Huh? Oh, I don't know. Years. Decades. Months? I have no sense of time here. When I sleep, I never know for how long. I do miss him though. I hope he'll return, but I fear we may have to leave this place before he does, losing him forever." Foxxo whipped up a sign: "I LIKE SNOPPY." America craned her neck to read it, and laughed a little when she did. She appeared close to tears, but she never quite got there. "I feel like I should really want to get out of this place," she said. "And it bothers me that I just don't care." Then they all heard a small voice from a distance. "Maybe we were never meant to be here," the voice said. They all turned and saw a little girl in the distance, dressed all in red and silver. America smiled. "Hi Baroness! Look who finally arrived! The mystery call people!" "I see!" the little girl yelled back, as she began to approach. "That's Baroness of the Stretchy Afternoon. With her, you've met three out of the four of us. Hayfriend is awfully shy--you have to give him time." Baroness walked up to the group and smiled. "Hello all of you," she said in kind of a strange way. The four greeted her. "Shall we have introductions?" Baroness said. "Uh... okay," Granticaine said. "I'm Granticaine Chug Perion. And uh..." He motion to Zoipin. "I'm Zoipin," he said. "Jurple Jupter, too." "I'm Lemon. Pleased to meet you." Lemon then motioned to Arbhay. "Uh... I'm Courier Arbhay, until recently of Deer Express." Baroness smiled. "I am Baroness of the Stretchy Afternoon. Five times honored. I am pleased to make your acquaintance." The others mumbled the likes of "yeah, us too". America clapped her hands. "Shall we head for Gampling Retreat? It contains non-pipe amenities, the only such as I know of. There you can meet Hayfriend also--if he can find the courage to show himself! He's been fretting so since your call. You must be gentle with him--he's petrified of people." "He says Gnoboslast is the perfect place for him," Baroness said with a smile. "No people, except for two very gentle, very familiar ladies." Foxxo screeched excitedly. Baroness laughed. "And ONE onerous monkey who makes the poor bear's life miserable." Foxxo screeched again and held up a sign: "I PREFER 'STIMULATING"" America and Baroness laughed, and the other four did too, a little. "Well, to Gampling," America said with a great deal of enthusiasm--something quite rare in Gnoboslast. They all followed her. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 21: ORANGE UNIVERSE CUPLINE'S END ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 22: I LOVE BAILEY CONG 1 Chapter--SR-251 ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 22: I LOVE BAILEY CONG CHAPTER 1 SR-251 ============================== 22.1--Bailey Cong ============================== BTayoght (16): Man theres this girl down at the arcade, her name is Bailey Cong and shes hot, man SlimVacc (33): Yeah, what does she look like BTayoght (16): Man shes awesome--she always looks so confiednt and has lng brown hair and man what a body SlimVacc (33): cool BTayoght (16): yeahman let me tell you. If I could choose anygirl, I would choose her SlimVacc (33): why ont you ask her out:? BTayoght (16): I don't know, maybe I should SlimVacc (33): why not man? what have you got to lose? BTayoght (16): I don't know, it's just like how am I gonn just go up to her, what am I gonn a say? Just like your hot, go out with me ? SlimVacc (33): Why not man? BTayoght (16): I don't know. Maybe I'm just too cared to, SlimVacc (33): dont be scard man--whats the wosrt that can happen? she can just laugh in your face so what? just walk away man, who cars? BTayoght (16): Yeah SlimVacc (33): So what are ome games your into these days? BTayoght (16): Oh man, there's this new one I can hardly ever get on theres so many kids playng it. Kings of Pyromania its the best game I ever saw, the graphics are totally unrweal dude SlimVacc (33): i saw it when I went with my family to Honorcora a few weeks ago But I didn't get to play it unfortunatley, it looks really good though BTayoght (16): Yeah I tell you, when I played I did alot etter than alot of kids older than me. They even got a little upset at me becausse they had to keep putting their quarters in when I kept going for free. SlimVacc (33): cool BTayoght (16): Yeah--I think the best character I play is Donny--king Donny I think--he has magical powers and throws fireballs and can make fire rain down from the sky. Man I burned down a whoe forest one time an got te high score SlimVacc (33): I like kings of promania but my mom says that games ike that promote bad behavour in kids. BTayoght (16): What do you mean? SlimVacc (33): I mean, sdon't you think that some kids might go and burn stuff down after they play the game? because it glorifies burning stuff down and stuff? BTayoght (16): no way man no way, I know the differnce between a gmae and my real life. No wy am I gonn a go burn down my house after playing Kings man! SlimVacc (33): No but maybe it does encourage you BTayoght (16): No way <<>> HesterPA (4): hello SlimVacc (33): hi Hester BTayoght (16): hello HesterPA (4): whats the topic tonite? BTayoght (16): talking about games like Kings of Pyromania and stuff HesterPA (4): what is that? SlimVacc (33): Hey, are you a girl or what? BTayoght (16): the coolset new game out there, you eget to burn down all sort of stuff, and each guy has his own fire powers and everything HesterPA (4): why, does it matter? BTayoght (16): the best part is the forest screens where you have to burn down as much of the forest as possible in a limted amotn of time Also theres a part where you burn down a vllage or something but I only saw one guy get that far SlimVacc (33): just wondering HesterPA (4): what's th matter, can't a girl talk about video games? SlimVacc (33): Of course they can HesterPA (4): well you dont now if I'm really a girl or just using a girl's account. you know. SlimVacc (33): You could just be a guy who gets his jollies prtending to be a girl online to satisyy his sick urges HesterPA (4): that;s what I don't like about online, peope are always pretending to be soemthing they are not BTayoght (16): i'mnot pretending SlimVacc (33): me neither you wanna go out baby? HesterPA (4): you guys proably arent even ld enough to go out. Wher do you live anyway? BTayoght (16): <--- Gullia Fair SlimVacc (33): isionab HesterPA (4): your not too far away. I'm in Powerssippi. but your still probably too young for me SlimVacc (33): your not fat are you? BTayoght (16): thats not a nice thing to say, Slim. take it back HesterPA (4): if I was do you think I would admit it on line? HesterPA (4): Than you, BT SlimVacc (33): I was just wondering- you cant be too carful these days BTayoght (16): It's B. Tayoght, not BT. My real name is Bill HesterPA (4): well your a jerk HesterPA (4): not you Bill, your frind there Slim BTayoght (16): He's not my friend SlimVacc (33): Gee thanks alot bill! Im trying to make my move wth the lady here and you go and make me look bad! HesterPA (4): you do that well wnough yourself Slim BTayoght (16): how old are you Hester? HesterPA (4): 22 next week SlimVacc (33): ouch BTayoght (16): thats alot older than me, I'm 14 SlimVacc (33): Imean, I'm 25 so its cool BTayoght (16): your not 25 Slim give it up!!!!!! HesterPA (4): I knew you boys were too young for me. At least Bill is honest about it, unlike Slim hos proabaly 10 or 11 HAHAHA SlimVacc (33): thats not funny chester BTayoght (16): chester? HesterPA (4): Could we talk about video games? That's why I came in here afterall. There are a lot fo dating rooms elsewhere so here I watnt to rtalk abotuthe real subject SlimVacc (33): i think she is a guy HesterPA (4): I am NOTTTT a guy! Go ahead, ask me a girl question and I'll answr it. SlimVacc (33): okay--when you pee, where does it come out of, above or elow your vagina? BTayoght (16): that's a real nice question Slim HesterPA (4): I'll answer you but how do I know that you know the answer? SlimVacc (33): Iknow don't you think I've seen one? HesterPA (4): no BTayoght (16): you've never seen one Slim!!!! Give it up!!!!! SlimVacc (33): Yes I have. You want the girl's name an address? HesterPA (4): yeah, why don't you give us her name and addres? BTayoght (16): no BTayoght (16): he's full of shit SlimVacc (33): I'd give it to you but I think she'd get mad at me HesterPA (4): At least give us her name BTayoght (16): There IS NO NAME Slim is full of SHIT!!!!! SlimVacc (33): he rname was Heter SlimVacc (33): I mean Hester HesterPA (4): Wow that's an amazing coincidence SlimVacc (33): maybe it was you BTayoght (16): shut up slim HesterPA (4): You know, you really are an annoying litle shit. I don't haveto put up with this. I cam ehere to talk about videogames not get insulted by some gross little teenager who jerks off in front of his computer insulting people BTayoght (16): Yeah get out of here slim. If you don't want to tlk abotu video games get out. And stop insultingpeople HesterPA (4): What am I doing with my life, hanging around online with little boys? BTayoght (16): Not all little boys are bad. SlimVacc (33): fine!!!!!!!! This room sucks anyway. I'm going ojver to LESBIAN CHAT man,. thats the place to be!!!!!!!! HesterPA (4): Maybe not HesterPA (4): yeah I know a lot of lebians named "Slim" BTayoght (16): Go ahead they'll kick you out of there too SlimVacc (33): you stupid! I don't use this name, I have alot of names! and I have the perfect namewhen I go into the lesbin room--Vicky Fun BTayoght (16): Who cares what your name is??? Your such a jerk everyone hates you HesterPA (4): Yeah boy, if I was a lesbian and I heard the name Vicky Fun I'd soak my undies for sure SlimVacc (33): dont piss in your pants its not lady like HesterPA (4): that's not what I was referrring to, but you're such a little idiot you didn't even know. You claim to know about female anatomy, but you just revealed you ignorange! SlimVacc (33): Fuck you BTayoght (16): Get out of here slim. Your not allowed to say words like that,, I'l get th monitor and he'll kick you out SlimVacc (33): Fuck you billy boy!!! Hahahahahahahahaha!!! fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fk cufkc fuc fuck fuck fuc shit shti ass asss pussy cunt bitch fuck shit god damn coscksucker bitch!!! HesterPA (4): sorry Bill. but I can't put up with this. Bye. BTayoght (16): No no wait Hester! e can kick him out! And if you leave I'll be all alone in here. SlimVacc (33): Fuck you all I[m going over t see some LESBIANS! I'm gonna beat my beat Hester! Liek you said I love beating my meat in front of computer! HesterPA (4): Goodbye, moron BTayoght (16): good ridance SlimVacc (33): screw you billy boy!! why don't you tell Hester about that girl you lve at the arcde but are too chicken to talk to you little WORM!!! FUCK YOU FUCKER!!!! BTayoght (16): go beat your meat you loser <<>> HesterPA (4): What a relief! BTayoght (16): yeah HesterPA (4): Ihope he's having fun beating his meat with the lesbos BTayoght (16): Im sure he is HesterPA (4): So do you want to talk abotu video games or should I just sign off and go to bed? BTayoght (16): No let's talk about them, that's why I came here too. I was even talking to slim about them till youc came in HesterPA (4): Yeah, some little jerks have to prove themselves when there's a girl around. BTayoght (16): yeah. so what games do you like these days? HesterPA (4): I play games mostly on my computer. My sister Fake got me one last week, as an early birthday present because she always disappears for months at a time and no one knows where she goes. But anyway it's called Prairie Brat, and it's really good BTayoght (16): I heard of it in the magazines but I never played it. My computer sucks, all I can do on it is text. I play most of my games down at Cong's Arcade, plus I have an old Conninood 45 that I hav alot of cartridges for, but Im tired of most of them. I want t get the new Conninood 1300 but my mom can't afford it HesterPA (4): Yeah, but Prairie Brat is really good, you should try it,. BTayoght (16): I'd like to butthey don't have in in the arcades HesterPA (4): They should. It would be perfect as an arcade game BTayoght (16): So why does your dister disappear? BTayoght (16): sorry, I mean sister HesterPA (4): I wish I knew! My parents are in such denial, they act like nothing's wrong. She comes around in these weird clothes, smelling very odd--some kind of spices I never smelled before and other weird stuff. She has all this weird stuff too--I have a lot of stuff she's brought me. But we ask her where she's been and she just shrugs and says she can't tell us becuase we wouldn't beieve her anyway BTayoght (16): That's weird, HesterPA (4): Definitely. I was glad he got me a normal present fo rmy birthday--usually she gives us such weird stuff! BTayoght (16): well I think you should find out where she is going HesterPA (4): I tried to follow her once, all the way back to her college in G.F., but I lost track of her. She knew I was follwig her anyway, I think. Maybe I should hire a private detective!! BTayoght (16): that 'd be a good idea HesterPA (4): Yeah. Now tell me-I don't know if I should even ask-but wwas Slim telling the truth about that girl? I could give you some advice. Being a girl myself. BTayoght (16): Yes for that ONE thing he was telling the truth. There's this girl whose father owns the arcade, and she's there every day after school. Her name is Bailey Cong, and I think I love her HesterPA (4): You should be careful, love is a very serious emotion BTayoght (16): I know. It's just-when I think about her, I don't know. I think about her al the time. But I don't know how to ask her out HesterPA (4): How old is she? BTayoght (16): I don't know, but she is in the grade above me, so maybe she's 15. But she could be 14 because Im a little old for my grade. HesterPA (4): Does she have a boyfriend? BTayoght (16): I don't know. I think guys are afraid to go out with herbecause her father is so mean HesterPA (4): He runs the arcade? BTyoght (16): He's usually there only at night because thats when things can get a little rough. Durig the days he has some guys from college running the palce. I know one of them likes Bailey but he's a total dork, plus he knows her father would beat the crap out of him if h touched his daughter HesterPA (4): Are you scared of her father? BTayoght (16): No, because I think I'm the right sort of guy for her. I mean, I like video games, am aroud the same age as her, and not all that bad looking HesterPA (4): Well, you know it's not going to happen by itself-you have to start talking to her and ask her out at some point BTayoght (16): I know but I don't know how to do it. I mean, I know I have to go up to her and ask her on a date, but it's just I feel so weird about it. HesterPA (4): Let me give you some vauable advice, my young friend. The first time you ask a girl out is always the worst. The next time it will get a little easier. And don't worry about rejection--expect it! This should be your strategy--If there's a girl you like, ask her out--even if you know she will turn you down. The more girls you ask, the more confident you'll become, and also-the more girls you ask, the greater the chace that one will accept! BTayoght (16): I guess so. It's just, since I am at the arcade so much, I think it 'd be weird to ask her out and then have her reject me totally and then be there with her knwoing I like her and stuff HesterPA (4): She won't be upset. I mean come on-it's flattering for a guy to ask you out. No, she won't be mad at you. In fact, if you ask her out, even if she turns you down, it'll plant a seed in her mind, and she'll look at you differently. And who knows? Maybe in the future she WILL go out with you. BTayoght (16): I dont know. All I have to say is I love her. I really love her. Suddenly, Hester's computer froze up. "Goddammit!" she yelled. Just then, her mother entered her room. "What's got you so upset?" "Oh, Mom this, this online service always crashes my machine!" "Were you having a chat?" "What?" "A chat? A computer chat?" "Yeah, yeah. I guess so." "With anyone nice?" "Yeah, whatever, some kid," Hester said, and then leapt onto her bed and started sulking. After a pause, her mother spoke. "Hester, I'm sorry about Fake. I'm sure she had a very good reason to cancel your get-together." Hester turned to face her mom, her eyes welled with tears. "Why don't you trace her calls with the phone company or something, so we know..." "Honey, I'm sure Fake will let us know what she's up to one of these days. Whatever it is, she certainly seems to be happy. And making a lot of money while she's at it! Do you know that she's paid back your father and I every cent we loaned her in college? I never thought I'd see that money again." "Mom, what's your problem? She has to be doing something illegal! She's either selling drugs, or maybe she's a whore! Letting guys fuck her for money! The money she gave you!" "I don't want to hear that kind of language in MY house, do you hear me? And don't you know I asked Fake just that question and she swore to me that she wasn't doing anything like that, and you know that whatever else her flaws, she tells the truth, she doesn't lie." "She's not my sister anymore," Hester said, burying her face in her pillow. "How can you say a thing like that?" Mrs. Cerquaine said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Fake loves you. She loves all of us. Now for some reason she can't tell us what she's up to in her life right now, but I'm sure she has a good reason. And you, young lady, you have to grow up and face responsibility in the real world! You have to run your own life, don't keel over and croak just because your sister isn't around." "FUCK YOU!" Mrs. Cerquaine got up. "I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear that. But let me tell you this one thing, Hester, get your life in order. I want to see you out there in the real world, not planted in front of that video screen chatting it up with a bunch of freaks and weirdoes. Do you understand me?" Hester held up her middle finger, her face still buried in her pillow. Mrs. Cerquaine walked out. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 22: I LOVE BAILEY CONG CUPLINE'S END ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 23: PILN OF SCREW RIDGE 5 Chapters--SR-252 thru SR-256 ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 23: PILN OF SCREW RIDGE CHAPTER 1 SR-252 ============================== SRsr001--"Piln" ============================== More than anything a hermit crab named Statue Alvarez helped her. Hey Piln, we're arriving at the shopping center where you first met him. "Okay, thanks Mary," Piln said as a woman walked away. A calm silence came to the shopping center. A distant jet plane overhead and cars on a nearby parkway were dreamy white noise. Piln sat in her motorized wheelchair, eight years old, twisted by a cruel disease. She was daydreaming when she caught sight of something in her peripheral vision. She turned her wheelchair around and saw it--a little hermit crab crawling along the edge of a wall, directly away from a corner. She watched the little thing, fascinated as it ambled along. All of a sudden, the crab disappeared from where it had been and reappeared on her arm. She felt it's legs on her flesh as it crawled along, but she was strangely calm. "I've had enough," the hermit crab said in a cute, nasal cartoony voice. Then he stopped, near Piln's elbow, and stared up at her. She didn't respond. A car drove by, and she looked up at it, then back at the hermit crab. "My name is Statue Alvarez. I have a lot of stories to tell. I was like you once," the hermit crab said. Piln still had nothing to say. "I could heal you right now," Staue said. "Make you whole. But I wouldn't commit such a crime. Not now. I've changed." Piln narrowed her eyes. "Where did you come from?" she asked. "I come from a wish, a wish I made. I wished for power. I was like you, crippled. I gave up my body, I got this new body. Very powerful, but absolutely a hermit crab, no way to change." "I think I would do the same thing," Piln said. "I know. But I would have been better off staying the way I was. I could have died and had it that much better in my next life. Now, I don't know if I'm ever gonna die, and I've hurt a lot of people with my capricious ways. My jealous ways." "Why can't you heal me?" Piln asked softly. "Look around you. I'm sure there are girls you envy furiously. Look at them. I could show you the reality of them. I could show you their whole future. They are helpless, drifting things. Had you not your problem, you'd be just like them. I could show you the you who never had this problem." Piln was still frozen in fascination, but Statue's presence on her arm still held some horror for her. She was considering asking Statue to get off her arm when she felt something on her other arm. It was a little robotic hermit crab. "I am Mecha Statue Alvarez," the robot said in a cartoony robotic voice. "This is what I have to say, go ahead and cure her, man." "Who the hell are you?" Statue said, with genuine surprise in his voice. "I am Mecha Statue Alvarez. I come with criticism. Your plan is to teach Piln a lesson, you have already begun teaching her a philosophy. You believe in this philosophy very strongly, and though she will resist at first, Statue, she will eventually come to see things your way. And she will have an epiphany. She will think, oh, how wrong I have been. Thank goodness for hermit crab Statue Alvarez for teaching me the right way. The wisdom of it. But it is a false wisdom, you. This is a bad course of action. I have come to put my two cents worth in." "Piln," Statue said in a serious tone, "I don't know where that robot is from. I thought I had escaped from my former life." "I am not of your former life," Mecha Statue Alvarez said. "I am something totally new. Look man--you have done some great evil. Don't use this girl Piln as a cruch." "That is not what I'm doing, robot," Statue said. "It is. So here is what I am saying, alright? You cure her, and I will give her an idea for a video game, called 'Video Devil Junior'. This game is massively popular in many alternate realities, but it hasn't been developed here yet. Piln could introduce the idea, and make a lot of money. And Piln is beautiful. She's a beautiful child, and she will make a beautiful adult. Rich and famous and beautiful. This is what I propose. And I tell you, there is nothing wrong with this idea." Then, both hermit crabs disappeared, the real one from her left arm and the robotic one from her right. She used the joystick on her motorized wheelchair to check her immediate surroundings, but there was no sign of them. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 23: PILN OF SCREW RIDGE CHAPTER 2 SR-253 ============================== SRsr002--"Dave" ============================== Early one morning Dave was shocked. Why, he did not know. He only knew that he was shocked. The strange part was that there was really nothing at all wrong. Except, of course, that there was a rather large glowing gargoyle on his windowsill. That, in itself, was not so odd. The strange part was that this gargoyle spoke. Well it tried, anyway. It didn't exactly have well-developed vocal chords. But what he said, in a voice like scratching a chalkboard, was what shocked Dave, even though he didn't know why he was shocked. What the gargoyle said was this: "Guess what's on TV tonight?" After a few moments, which seemed like eons, Dave asked "What?" The gargoyle contorted its face, making it appear even more incredibly ugly than it already was, and it said, in the same piercing voice "I said... guess." Dave got a chill and began to think. After a long time, which seemed like just a moment, Dave said "Uh... um... well, what is TV?" The gargoyle's eyes became red, and its gaze shot through Dave. Then the beast screamed so loudly that Dave was deafened for several minutes afterward. Then it flew off. Dave was curious, however, so he strapped on his wings and flew out of his window, following the gargoyle. The cold morning air swept against his face. He had already accelerated to almost the speed of sound, but the gargoyle was nowhere in sight. "This guy's fast, even for a gargoyle," Dave thought as he crossed the sound barrier. A sound like thunder echoed across the Hellvarth Land. Soon, as Dave approached Mach 2, he caught a glimpse of the gargoyle. But he lost it again as a huge hand shot up out of the ground. It was at least 3 miles high. Dave tried to avoid it, but couldn't maneuver in time. He shot through the palm of the hand easily, however, due to his speed. An earthquake shook the land, which must have been the result of the owner of the hand yelling in pain. Dave heard nothing, though, still deaf. "What a time for Guggon the Great to wake up!" Dave thought as he changed his course towards the underground empire of Harvey Rattt. As he flew, he wondered what TV could stand for. "Total Ventilation? Time Vortex? Tire Viper?" he thought uselessly. He continued, but predictably something happened on the way to Rattt's--on the horizon he saw an Airworm Patrol Swarm (APS). "Oh bit!" he muttered as he pulled his rip cord. Instantly, his form changed from humanoid to dragonoid. In this form he could better handle the sinister APS. He flew directly into the wormcloud and began to try to convince the worms that there was more to life than flying around and eating unsuspecting airtravellers. At first, they weren't sure, but soon they were convinced, and flew off to find a better life as volcano cleaners. Dave then clapped his clawed hands together 17 times and became normal once again. Dave's wings glittered in the double sunlight as he flew halfway across a world. Soon he had arrived at Rattt's. He slowed down as he approached the neon sign which said "HARVEY RATTT'S UNDERGROUND EMPIRE". Some of the letters were out, though, so it seemed to read "HA E RAT GROUND M IRE". Nevertheless, Dave landed and approached the door. A sign on the door read "RING BELL, AND DIE." "Very funny, Rattt," Dave muttered as he pressed the button. He wished he hadn't, though, as a thousand lasers sprung to life and seared the ground dangerously close to his feet before they suddenly shut off. "Who's there?" asked Rattt's familiar voice over an intercom. "Me... uh... Dave," Dave said. "Oh well, get outta here! Can't you see I'm busy?" "Alright, but I just thought you should know... maybe you'd like to know that Guggon the Great has just, uh... woken up." "Oh... what?" Sounds of something large smashing into the ground came to Dave's still-recovering-from-the-gargoyle-scream ears. "Ok, come in, Dave," Rattt continued. The door swung open and Dave stepped inside the tunnel. He was immediately confronted by Rattt's seemingly impossibly confusing mazes. "Uh... I don't know where to go," Dave said. "Oh that's easy," Rattt's voice said. "Haha! Just follow the blue slime trail!" -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 23: PILN OF SCREW RIDGE CHAPTER 3 SR-254 ============================== SRsr003--"Harvey" ============================== Dave found the trail, with some difficulty, and began following it. "Uh... Rattt... what's 'TV'?" Dave asked. "What?" Rattt shrieked. Before Dave could answer, metal walls slid down in front of and in back of him, trapping him in the corridor. "Where did you hear about TV?" Rattt demanded suspiciously. "A g... g... gargoyle told me!" Dave said, surprised. "Well Dave, just what exactly did it say?" "Um... he said 'Guess what's on TV tonight?'" "Oh I see... This could be more serious than thought." "More... more serious than Guggon?" "I don't know," said Rattt as the walls slid upwards. Dave then continued to follow the blue slime trial until it led him to an almost impossibly dirty room. At one end of the room there something barely discernible as a door. "Wait," Rattt's voice then said impassively. "Okay." Dave didn't particularly want to stay in this room. The dirt hung in the air and seemed to stain his clothes even as he stood there. Then there was a sudden movement in one corner of the room, which ceased as Dave looked over. What he saw amazed him--there was a small patch of cleanliness on the wall. He started to walk towards it to examine it, but Rattt's voice then boomed out. "Okay dammit--come in, willya?" Rattt said. Dave walked over to the door and hesitated. "Uh... where's the doorknob?" he asked Rattt. After a few moments of silence, Rattt said "What the ruzgo d'ya mean where's the doorknob? Are ya some sorta idiot or something? Wait a second..." Then came sounds of heavy machinery falling and breaking, and then the door opened. There stood Harvey Rattt. It was hard to tell just what Harvey was. At first glance, he seemed to be a sort of short human/rodent/scum combination, but Dave knew that much more than that, as well as a whole lot less. "Come in," Rattt said. As Dave entered through the doorway, he was surprised by what he saw, even though he'd been in this place before. It was just so incomprehensively... incomprehensible. Basically, it was like a huge cavern, and there was a mountain of trash and broken machinery in the middle of it. Bridges extended from the innards of this mountain to the cavern walls, and misshapen creatures limped about everywhere. At the very top of the trash heap, Dave could just barely discern Harvey Rattt's office. "Come on. We've got things to talk about," said Rattt. Rattt then snapped his fingers and there was what appeared to be a landslide on the mountain, revealing a stairway. They began to climb up. "Mind if I fly?" Dave asked. Before Rattt could answer, a huge glass something crashed and shattered onto the cavern floor, causing an immense racket. As soon as the echoes subsided, Rattt said "Sure, go ahead! Just leave me here walking all the way up..." Dave looked up the dizzying staircase and said "Oh, it's not that far. I guess I can walk it." But Rattt had apparently disappeared. "Rattt?" called Dave, but his only answer was the tortured groan of a gigantic elephantine creature dragging a building through the debris of the vast floor below. So Dave took off and flew up towards the top of the heap, landing a few seconds later outside Rattt's office, only to find Harvey right there, with a weird smile on his sinister little face. "Time to go!" Harvey said as he pulled a lever extending from a crumpled metal form to his left. All was suddenly dark. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 23: PILN OF SCREW RIDGE CHAPTER 4 SR-255 ============================== SRsr004--"Hyrax" ============================== "Uh," Dave said, "hello? Harvey?" "Crap," Harvey said. "Teleporters on the blink. Blew out the main fuse." "Huh?" Then Harvey lit a little blowtorch and motioned for Dave to come into his office. "Have a seat," Harvey said, as he clambered up a pile of demolished cash registers and typewriters to get to his desk. "Um," Dave said, looking around at all the junk for a place to sit, "where should I..." Harvey ignored him and spoke into a microphone, his voice echoing throughout the massive cavern. "Clarice... Clarice this is Harvey. Please reset the main fuse. If you cannot find the main fuse, there should be a map behind a pile of giant statues or something, I don't know." Then Harvey wiped his brow and looked off into space. Dave waited a few moments, and then cleared his throat. Harvey's eyes darted around a little and then found Dave. "Yeah, yeah. Come on up, there's a chair up here somewhere." So Dave climbed up the pile of cash registers and typewriters, but managed to dislodge something with his foot as he finally got to the top. He watched as a copy machine tumbled lazily down the pile of junk. Harvey's eyes widened. "A copy machine?" he said incredulously. Dave raised his eyebrows, but said nothing as he sat down in a metal chair across the desk from Harvey. Harvey continued to stare wide-eyed and concerned at the copy machine, and then Dave sighed. Harvey had set the blowtorch on his desk, and the two were lit in its eerie glow. Finally Harvey looked over at Dave. "Dave, I have something to tell you." "Yeah?" "I've made a decision. A very personal decision. And I want to know what you think of it." "Okay." "There comes a time in a man's life when he must come to some conclusions." "Uh-huh." "And I have COME to some conclusions." Dave nodded. "And the conclusion that I have come to," Harvey continued, "is that I must change my name to Harvey Hyrax." "What?" "I'm going to change my name, Dave. Legally, officially, all that." "Why?" Harvey sighed. "It's a long story, Dave. But let me show you something." Harvey rummaged through his drawers, and finally produced a large, tattered book. He flipped through it, opened to a page, and laid it on the desk before him. He stared longingly at the page, and then turned the book around, so it was facing Dave. Dave looked at the page and saw a color photo of a little rodent of some sort. At the top of the page there was a heading that said "HYRAX". "I may be a hoofed mammal," Harvey said. "What?" Dave said, confused. Harvey turned the book back around. "See Dave, my great-grandmother was a hyrax, not a rat. All this time I thought I had rat blood in me, but it turns out I'm part hyrax--and even though it looks like a rodent, it's more similar to a hoofed animal." Dave was perplexed. "I will be Harvey Hyrax. This is be Harvey HYRAX'S Underground Empire." Harvey waved his hand to indicate the space around them. Then, all of a sudden, the lights came back on. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 23: PILN OF SCREW RIDGE CHAPTER 5 SR-256 ============================== SRsr005--"Clean" ============================== "Got it, chief!" said a female voice over a crackly intercom. "Thank you, Clarice," Harvey responded into the microphone. Then he continued, "So you can see Dave, this name change of mine is going to... going to... uh... going to..." Harvey was distracted, staring wide-eyed out of his office window. Dave looked over and saw that the Underground Empire had changed. It was clean. "Ubba... ubba... ubba..." Harvey was muttering as he glared down at the cleanness. Dave got up and walked over to the office window, next to Harvey. "What happened?" Dave asked softly. But Harvey just kept muttering. Then Dave spotted something moving near the base of the mountain, an area that was still dirty. It looked like a light-blue devil in white overalls and hat, wielding a massive red broom. "Cleandaemon," Harvey said through clenched teeth. "Huh?" "It's a Cleandaemon, Dave." Then Harvey rushed over to his desk, rummaged through the drawers, and produced a loaded crossbow. He used the blowtorch to light the tip of the bolt, which burst into flame, and rushed out the door of his office. Dave followed him. "It's the Flaming Crossbow of the Bamburgers for you, fiend!" Harvey shrieked as he shot the fiery projectile at the Cleandaemon, who deflected it easily with his broom. "Bastard!" Harvey yelled. "Dave! Dave! Go in my drawer and get more bolts for me!" Dave ran into the office as Harvey kicked over a huge dirty printing press, which tumbled thunderously down the mountain toward the Cleandaemon, which batted it aside with his mighty broom, cleaning it in the process. In the office Dave searched through Harvey's desk drawers for the bolts, when he saw the cover of a magazine, reading "TV View Weekly". He reached for it, but Harvey yelled at him. "Dave! The bolts! The bolts, Dave!" "I can't find them!" Harvey cursed and bounded back into the office, shoving Dave aside and ransacking his desk. "Son of a ruzgo!" Harvey screamed. "Gotta find those bolt!" Then the two heard someone clearing his throat by the door, and they both looked up to see the Cleandaemon smiling in the doorway. "Haha, I cleaned everything, haha," the Cleandaemon said. "Punk!" Harvey yelled as he hurled a cash register at the Cleandaemon, but he deflected it (and cleaned it) with his broom. "You'll never clean my office!" The demon raised an eyebrow and held his broom tightly. Harvey looked over at Dave in panic. Dave took a deep breath and unzipped a little zipper on his sleeve. Instantly, he began transforming into a comet. Shooting forward, he wrapped his arms around the Cleandaemon as his transformation was completing. With the demon firmly in his grasp, he transformed fully into a raging fireball and blasted through the roof of the Underground Empire and out into the open sky. "What are you up to?" demanded the Cleandaemon. "Where's all the dirt?" Dave bellowed in his thundering comet voice. "You must have put it somewhere!" "Never! I'll never tell! Cleaning Harvey Rattt's Underground Empire is the greatest cleaning job ever done!" -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 23: PILN OF SCREW RIDGE CUPLINE'S END ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 24: THE DARK OF COLLEGE 8 Chapters--SR-257 thru SR-264 ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 24: THE DARK OF COLLEGE CHAPTER 1 SR-257 ============================== SRdc001--"Witchcraft Paranoia Films" ============================== Witchcraft Paranoia Films sat on the train, and asked the woman sitting next to him what she was drinking. "Hot hydrogen peroxide," she answered. Indeed, that's what the smell was. He knew he recognized it from somewhere. "You can drink that stuff?" he asked, furrowing his brow in skepticism. "Oh yeah," the woman said. "You never get sick." She smiled at him. From the expression, he could see she was looking at him as he if were an idiot, perhaps part of a whole idiot segment of society. "Huh," Films said, holding the woman's gaze a second or two too long, then turning away. "Are you visiting?" the woman asked after a long pause. "Huh?" Films said, started out of some musing he'd just begun. "I was just wondering if you were visiting. You have a very interesting accent." "Yeah?" The woman nodded. "Yeah, I'm not from around here," he said. She reached over and touched the top of the first joint of his right ring finger with her left ring finger. Films wore bafflement on his face. "Do you know what that means, boy?" "No." The woman smiled. She looked kind of old--late 40s, early 50s. With the look of youth desperately holding on, in the hair, the sparkle of the eyes. "It's a request, from one unmarried to another, to indulge in undressed passions." Films felt a wave of concern fill him, he took a sharp breath, and looked at her with eyes so wide. "You don't know anything about this?" she asked. "Are you from another planet or something?" He nodded, and she laughed. "We go into the tussle room, get undressed, and share the pleasures of the flesh--all except that act reserved for the married." "Yeah?" "Where are you from anyway, kid?" "Um--something like what you said--another planet..." She smiled and shook her head. "They really do shield you youngsters in Deav these days." "Deav?" She stared into his eyes with a passionate glance, and he felt some part of her consciousness enter his head. She seemed to go through a bunch of several-second stages of ascertaining, then she looked away. "If you touch my ring finger we can go to the tussle room," she said quietly. "Here, on the train?" She smiled and faced him, looking a little worn out. "Of course--who'd want to travel on a train without rest rooms and tussle rooms?" "Um--everyone where I come from," he said, imagining kissing her with that hydrogen peroxide breath. "The tussle rooms, not the bathrooms." "What's your name, friend?" "Uh--um, it's Witchcraft Paranoia Films." "What?" "Witchcraft Paranoia Films." "That's your name?" "Yeah. It must sound strange to you. Most people just call me Films." "Huh..." she said, nodding. "Well Films, you can just call me The Sommern Swift." "Why?" "Cuz I like it." Suddenly a screeching filled the air, and the two were thrown forward as the train seriously decelerated. "What the hell..." Films growled. "Blam..." Swift mumbled. Soon the train came to a halt, and a scary silence rang--no engine or generator noise--just the talking of anxious passengers. Soon, an announcement came: "Ah, attention passengers. Due to a signal failure, we dumped our merval core into thin air. Just totally out there. There will be a delay of an indeterminate period before a replacement train can come to pick us up." "Settle in," the conductor added sardonically. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 24: THE DARK OF COLLEGE CHAPTER 2 SR-258 ============================== SRdc002--"The Casino at Hacta Home" ============================== Films sat still, looking out the window at rolling hills and farms. "Well there ya go," Swift said. "Those two vovos just jumped into the tussle room--you know long that'll take." Films didn't answer. Swift leaned over Films, squinting her eyes to peer out the window, one hand on his thigh, squeezing--ostensibly for support, but a more aggressive element there too--especially considering her recent proposal to him. "Where are we?" she asked. "The world of Snake Alan College." She turned to him. "Huh?" "Nothing." She nodded, and continued to scan the landscape. "I think I know where we are," she said. "Near Oholine. In fact... I think we're only a few miles from..." She turned to him again. "Come on!" she said. She was up, grabbing Films by the wrist. "Hey, what gives?" "We're getting off this junk heap and goin' to The Casino at Hacta Home!" "What do you mean?" "I mean, the railroad's not gonna get its act together for hours, maybe days," she said, letting go of him. "So?" "So? So--I'll tell you 'so'. We're only a few miles overland from one of the most amazing attractions in the world." Films frowned at her. "And YOU need to make a phone call. The Casino's the closest civilization." He continued frowning. "The little mindscan I did?" she said. "It didn't get me much. But I know you're going to see someone, and that you're very anxious." "Mindscan?" "Yeah, yeah, don't worry about it. We just gotta get moving." "Do I have a choice?" She smiled a wicked smile. "Do any of us? Just look at the situation--we can sit in this decrepit old train for a day, or walk for an hour and get to the coolest place on Earth. So considering the situation, you DO have a choice, but you'd be stupid to--" "--okay, okay. But--who the hell are you--why are you so interested in me?" She narrowed her eyes. "Maybe I'm an agent of a government bureau that investigates the paranormal. And maybe we know all about this 'Dark of College' of yours. And maybe I just hooked a good one in you. And maybe--just maybe--I'm not a very loyal or obedient employee. And here's another maybe--you go along with me, maybe help me a little, and I'll help you." Films swallowed and stared Swift in her eyes. "Come on," she said. "Let's go to Casino." The doors of the train were still closed, so Swift kicked in a glass emergency case and took an axe out, which she used to shatter a window. "You know..." Films began, backing away. "What?" Swift said, glancing back at him for a moment as she cleared the edges of the window of glass shards with the axe. "You'd rather wait for the overpaid, incompetent, apathetic, retarded conductors to come along and open the doors for us? You think they want to take responsibility for passengers wandering off into the woods and getting destroyed by bears and Schall's daunks?" Films frowned. "Now come on, you!" Swift said, climbing out the window. "And mind the glass." "Whatever," Films said under his breath and followed her out the window, managing to cut his hand pretty good in the process. "Sonnovabitch!" he yelled, holding his hand and staring at it in horror, the kind of look you put on subconsciously to get sympathy. "Don't be such a baby," Swift snapped. "We'll have them look at it at Casino." "But--come on--this is... this is serious. I'm sure they have a first aid kit on the train..." he said as he turned back to face the train, looking for an entrance, since the window they climbed out of was too high. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 24: THE DARK OF COLLEGE CHAPTER 3 SR-259 ============================== SRdc003--"Vavon Sockers" ============================== "Forget it, Films!" Swift said, grabbing him by the arm and yanking him away. "You better do things my way--remember what I said--I'm sticking my neck out for you--don't fuck up." "Look," Films said, with an exaggerated look of pain. "Just how far away is this place? I mean, I..." "I don't know. Not far. But it'll be a god damn eternity if you don't stop that whining!" "What...? Look at my hand... will you look at it? It's a deep cut, and... and..." He looked sincerely concerned. "What?" she asked. "I... I'm scared of the germs that might be here... on this... this world. I mean, okay. I admit it! I am from a different world. And... and there might be germs here that my body is totally unfamiliar with... I could fucking die." Swift walked right up to Films and put her hands on his shoulders, looking him in the eye. The two individuals were about the same height. He locked eyes with her, tears welling up in his. "Now listen to me, Witchcraft Paranoia Films. If you used The Dark of College to get here, you needn't worry. They who designed it were way ahead of you, in this germ issue and a whole lotta other things. They built in situational governors to protect you from such mundane hazards. In fact, that cut of yours should heal at a far faster rate than you'd normally expect." Films looked away, a frown on his face. "You wanted to kiss me just then, didn't you?" she said, hands still on his shoulders. "What?" "You heard me." "What--are you reading my mind?" "No--I just have a little situational sight. You should have done it--on this Earth, things are a lot looser. So why don't you--why don't you just go ahead?" He looked at her, a few tears trickling away from his eyes, and moved forward to touch lips with her. He didn't press any further, but she opened her mouth slightly and touched his lips with the tip of her tongue. He responded, and soon they were in the middle of a truly passionate kiss. Films did taste a faint hint of hydrogen peroxide, but he didn't let it bother him. When the kiss ran its course, Swift let go of Films and started walking across a field, toward the woods. He silently followed. As they walked away from the derelict train, Films looked back to see a tall figure, a man with long brown hair, standing next to the train, wearing a dark overcoat. The man was staring at the two, and it looked like he started to raise his hand to hail them, but he stopped himself. Under his left arm were two bulging folders of papers. Films was puzzled--the man hadn't been there a moment ago, but... he probably got out the window The Sommern Swift knocked out. Yeah, that was a good explanation. The walk through the woods lasted under an hour, without much excitement or conversation--the kiss kept both of them pretty quiet. After the woods ended, they mounted another hill, and that's when they finally saw the Casino at Hacta Home, and the commercial buildup that seemed to flow out of it like dozens of leaks. "Wow cool," Films said without much enthusiasm. "What's the matter?" "What do you mean?" "Something's bothering you." "Yeah, I don't know." "Tell me." "I don't know--just that guy back there by the train. He seemed like... like he wanted to talk to us or something." "Oh, him? He was probably just some fucking loser who thinks he's the author of a story where we're the characters. Those dossiers were full of information about our past and future, no doubt." "Huh?" "Don't worry about it. I encounter such people now and again. They always say that they're writing a story, and they decided to put themselves in it. Some of 'em even display amazing powers in changing reality, to prove themselves. Where they come from is a mystery. But just do what I do and you'll be happy--ignore them." "That's funny. I often feel like I'm just a character in someone else's story--the way things just seem to HAPPEN to me." Films was a stocky fellow with a broad face, short unkempt beard, and mustache. Height a little below average, unstyled hair with bangs over his eyebrows. And he wore a baseball cap, the logo on which he knew no one else in this world would know--the Vavon Sockers, a wiredrama team--consisting of a cartoon character punching, his fist "closer" and hence much bigger than his body, a V being formed from the rings he was wearing. The hat was black and the logo light blue and gray, with bright orange trim. "Well, don't worry about it," The Sommern Swift said. "You're about to experience one of the biggest--if not THE biggest attraction this Earth has to offer--The Casino at Hacta Home! Lucky I brought along massive amounts of local cash, eh friend?" "I got a little too." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 24: THE DARK OF COLLEGE CHAPTER 4 SR-260 ============================== SRdc004--"Mall in a Candle" ============================== Teenagers. "A mall is a place, see?" said Couch Vartoon. "A place with girls and other stuff like stores." Skinny, nerdy, glasses, trying to be cool. "Fiasco Mills Mall. Sounds like that could describe it perfectly," said Yark Fathgocken. Chubby, straight blond hair, innocent. Couch was driving his uncle's hovercraft. Yark wasn't sure if the uncle knew they were using it. They were driving down a dirt road through a forest. There was stark sunlight and silence beyond the whir of the hovercraft. "Look man, I got all this money," Couch said with a crooked smile. "Burning a hole in my pockets. Let's use it to get some different kind of holes!" "Man, you're crazy. I'm not gonna just go... go to, y'know... to hookers..." "What? What are you talking about? You don't pay for love when you can get it for free! Come on Fathgocken!" Yark paused and looked serious as he said, "So what do we need the money for, then?" "To impress the girls!" "I thought you said it was free." "It IS free, but no girl is gonna look twice at us if we go in there like a couple of losers with no money to spend!" Suddenly, there was a bolt of electricity arcing from the hood of the hovercraft into the woods. It made a loud zapping noise, and the hovercraft spun out of control. Couch struggled to maintain control, but the hovercraft smashed right into a big tree. The vehicle fell to the ground, and then all was silent. The two guys sat in stunned silence. Neither was hurt. "Man," Yark said, "man, your uncle is gonna kill us." Couch snickered a little. "What! What's so funny!" "I was gonna ask him," Couch said,. "I really was. But he was out at the ocean hazeworld, and I couldn't get through to him. I needed to borrow the hovercraft, but the keys weren't where he usually left them. So I hotwired the thing. Now he'll never know it was us! We can just pretend someone else stole it!" "Oh come on. You know lies like that always come out in the end. He'll find your fingerprints in here or something. It's better just to face up to it. I mean, it was an accident. Wasn't it? What was that lightning anyway?" Then they saw someone approaching. He was a tall fellow, with a mustache and beard, smiling, holding a big hunk of metal or machinery or something. "You guys all right?" he yelled out. "C'mon, get out," Couch said. Yark managed to get his door open and get out, but Couch's door was jammed shut, so he had to crawl over and get out the passenger door. "You guys okay? I'm sorry about that," the guy said, looking back and forth at Couch and Yark. "I was just calibrating the security system when you guys drove by. Awful sorry. But it is private property, you know." "I told you!" Yark said with a pained look. "I told you I saw those signs!" "I know! But I thought it was the same shortcut to the mall I took before!" Couch said through clenched teeth. "Mall?" the guy asked. "What mall?" "Fiasco Mills," Couch said. The guy shook his head. "You're nowhere near there. This is the entirely opposite direction, if you were coming from Hulpabarny, as I assume." "Yeah," Yark said. "Well again, I have to say I'm sorry. I was planning on putting up more signs and a fence a little later. Guess I was over-anxious to get the Bolt Archer up and running. Guess it works! That was a joke, boys." The two just stared at the guy. "You can come and use my phone. Least I can do. Is it, is the hovercraft, does it belong to one of you?" "His uncle," Yark said, motioning to Couch with his thumb. Couch shoved Yark in the arm. "Shut up man!" The guy clapped his hands. "Well. That's it then. Come on in and you can call your uncle. The damage does not look totally irreparable." He turned and began walking down the road. Couch and Yark followed him. "I had a shopping mall in a candle," the guy said, still walking, turning to look at the boys. "Uh-huh," Yark said absently. Couch nodded, but then frowned. "Um..." Couch said, "what was that? A candle?" "Yeah," the guy said, looking forward again. "I had a mall in a candle. One of those glass jar type of candles, burns for a long time. Green wax. And as it burns, you get maybe a half-inch of liquid wax in there. And I started noticing these little guys walking around in there. They seemed to be having an awfully good time. Yeah, and once, they built this whole kind of shopping mall for their friends. It was pretty cool. I feel kinda bad when I have to blow the candle out. They know to get out when the gettin's good, though. To wherever it is they go." The two boys' eyes widened as they heard this, but they kept on following the guy. "What did you read that in a comic book or something?" Yark asked. "No siree," the guy said, "it's real. I know it sounds kinda funny, but I guarantee it. I could even show you, they've been coming pretty regularly." Couch stared over at Yark with a questioning gaze, but Yark just shrugged helplessly. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 24: THE DARK OF COLLEGE CHAPTER 5 SR-261 ============================== SRdc005--"The Podger-Claise Hand" ============================== A run-down house came into view, and they followed the guy into it without saying anything else. As the two stepped in, the guy motioned for them to go into another room as he wiped his brow with the headband he had been wearing. "I'm Joel, by the way. Joel Floster." He stuck out his hand and awkwardly shook Yark's and Couch's hands. He wore glasses and had unkempt facial hair. He looked kind of weird. "The phone's in here," Joel said as he followed the two into the room. Couch sat down next to the phone, and Yark stood next to a coffee table with a big coffee table book on it, which he glanced at. "Yeah, I wrote that," Joel said. "'The Podger-Claise Hand'. I have to act like I don't have it, even though I do. If word got out that I had it--well--you can see why I'm putting up that security system." "Huh?" Yark asked. "No, it's just..." Joel said, "the Hand--you do know about the hand...?" "No," Yark said. Joel looked over at Couch, who shook his head. "Wow, they don't really teach in schools anymore, do they? Anyway..." Joel picked up the book and sat down next to Couch. Yark remained standing. Joel started flipping through the paging and displaying various ones as he spoke. "When I was your age this was all I cared about, the Hand. It's in all these myths, Vupple-Im, Choshpood, Nurignio--the same thing, this hand with little bird heads for fingertips." Couch and Yark stared at each other with concern. Joel continued. "I travelled all over the world on my grandfather's money. But in the end it was just dumb luck that allowed to to get the Hand. That's why I wrote the book, to make people think I was still looking for it." Joel slammed the book shut and looked at the boys, back and forth. "You wanna see it?" "The Hand?" Yark asked. "Yup." "Um..." Yark said. "Sure, why not," Couch said. "Okay, great. Just wait here while I get it. Can't let you see the hiding place, you know." Joel then got up and left the room. Yark sat next to Couch. The two waiting a few moments before talking in loud whispers. "That guy's a fucking psycho!" Yark said. "Let's get the fuck outta here!" "No!" "Why not?" "Because we gotta get him to help us with our story. He can call the cops and say he saw two guys running away! Then we'll be totally free!" "How are you gonna look at your uncle with a straight face?" Yark asked. "Look Fathgocken, it's just easier this way, for everyone involved. The hovercraft is sconc, nothing's gonna change that. You think my uncle would rather know it was his nephew than some faceless criminals?" Yark looked down and shook his head. Then all of a sudden, the two heard loud bird chirping and scraping noises from a nearby window. Looking, they saw the shadows of birds on the frosted glass. Joel walked in, carrying an aluminum briefcase. "There are two birds out here who are gods," he said. "I've recorded them countless times. They're having a great life in my backyard." The two boys regarded Joel warily, without speaking. Joel put the briefcase down on the coffee table, and sat down between Yark and Couch. Joel then put his hands on the release latches of the briefcase, but paused before opening it. "I just want to say, that I saw some things with the Hand. I know you two think I'm crazy, and I also know you need me to lie to the police for you. I don't have a problem with either of these things. Just promise me you won't tell anyone--and I do mean anyone--that I have the Hand. That's my price for lying to the police and getting you off the hook with that wrecked hovercraft out there." "Um..." Couch said, "okay. No problem. We won't tell anyone." "No," Yark added. "Okay," Joel said, and he opened the briefcase, revealing what appeared to be a jadelike carving of a hand, marbled gray and orange, with thin veins of bright red. "It can teleport you to the Fiasco Mills Mall, if you want. I mean, I know you want. I got that from the Hand." "Okay," Yark said. "No, wait a minute," Couch said. "If it could teleport us there, could it teleport us, like, anywhere?" "Yeah, sure," Joel said. "Come one," Yark said, "let's just get to the mall, teleporting or hitchhiking or however." "No," Couch said. "I want some fun." "You want girls. Girls, sex, all that," Joel said with a mildly annoyed expression. "Yeah. And that might not be so easy just going to the mall," Couch said. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 24: THE DARK OF COLLEGE CHAPTER 6 SR-262 ============================== SRdc006--"Vartoon & Fathgocken's Girl Paradise" ============================== "Well," Joel said, leaving the briefcase open and he sat back, "there are a number of options. The Hand is very handsome, no pun intended. We, we could be talking a scale, a slippery slope." "In the right direction?" Couch asked, trying to follow Joel's meandering train of thought. "Well," Joel said, "there's the lesson sphere, where you learn to be careful what you wish for, all that. But I was thinking... yes... this could work... a little bit of a program... why not?" "What?" Couch asked. "Oh, nothing. Just a very cool little program. Very cool... ah, let's just ask the Hand," Joel said, and then he reached out and picked up the Hand. Couch and Yark were hit immediately with a disorientation, as if the room had just tilted and stretched. "Once a month," Joel said, his voice distorted. "You'll find a storefront at mall, and go in, and you have day in girl paradise like that. Couch Vartoon and Yark Fathgocken. Is it good. Yes, hello. You two teleport now, find storefront, like it. Do not violate one day rule." Then all of a sudden, Couch and Yark were in the Fiasco Mills Mall, standing in the middle of the food court. They both looked around, trying to get their bearings. "I feel awfully normal, considering what just happened," Couch said. "DID that just happen?" Yark asked. "I don't know. All I know is we gotta find that storefront, and spend our day with girls, many multiple girls." "I don't know," Yark said. "What don't you know?" "I don't know if we should get any deeper into this." "Come on," Couch said. Soon, the two were standing in front of a store called "Vartoon & Fathgocken's Girl Paradise". "Well," Yark said. "I guess this is it." "I'm going in," Couch said, and he entered the store, which was pretty dark and was full of big gray boxes. The two walked past the nondescript boxes, but saw some light in the distance. Soon, they were at a glass door, looking out onto a sunny, grassy hill. Couch opened the door and stepped through the doorway. Looking to his left, he saw a group of around a dozen beautiful girls, dressed in summer clothes. Yark came through and spotted the girls. It was strangely silent. Then, the grass turned from green to cyan and a voice said "Program over", and the girls were gone. It was still sunny, but with the light blue grass and the no girls. "What the fuck?" Couch said. Yark looked around. The door they had come though was attached to a castle sort of building. And it was silent. Very silent. "This sucks," Couch said. "Uh-huh," Yark responded. "We gotta go call that Joel guy," Couch said, "tell him what happened." "Alright." So they went back through the door, back through the store, back into the mall, and got to a phone. "It's ringing," Couch said, after he had gotten Joel's number from information. "Hello?" "Hi, is this Joel Floster?" "It is." "Hi. This is Couch Vartoon. Um... we were like there, and..." "Yeah, I know you. You were just here, like ten, fifteen minutes ago." "Yeah." "So what's up?" Joel asked. "Um... we found that storefront thing you said about... but, um... well there were girls there, but it lasted for like five seconds. It like didn't work or somthing." "Man, I'm sorry. I know the Hand to some extent, but I know it can be ornery. But I... um... I want to be a little less vague here, kid. The Hand has major powers, and I am in contact with it. But it has free will. And it has touched you now. I don't know, maybe it's playing with you. What exactly happened, anyway?" "Well, we found the store like you said. We went in. We got to a nice outside kind of place, and there were hot girls out there. Then the grass turned blue and some guy said 'program over' or something, and that was it." "Man, I'm real sorry. I would say that a god is going to come make you an offer for your whole monthly girl storefront thing, and I think you should take whatever he offers. Look man, I gotta go. I know you think I'm weird, but that's cool. But I gotta go. Call me back if you run into any more trouble. Bye, dear." Couch frowned as he hung up the phone. "What?" asked Yark. "That guy is fucked up," Couch said. "He told me a god is coming to offer us to trade the store or something. And he called me 'dear'." "Joel did?" "Yeah." "What is he, gay or something?" "I don't know. But we should be looking for this god. I don't know about you, Fathgocken, but I'm... I think it'd be better just to get out of this whole thing. We can get girls the traditional way. And if not today, some other day." "Whatever," Yark responded as they walked away from the phone. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 24: THE DARK OF COLLEGE CHAPTER 7 SR-263 ============================== SRdc007--"Daggers" ============================== Very soon, Vartoon and Fathgocken passed a music store, and a god was playing an organ. He was very big and had green-and-white armor on. He was playing a very sappy-sounding song. The two immediately recognized him as a god. They stopped near him, and waited as he continued to play. The song ended about a minute later, and the god turned around. "I am Yim Klocks," the god said in a deep voice. He had long blond hair, a helmet, and a long blond beard and mustache. "You two have something very valuable to me, your 'contract', so to speak, with the Podger-Claise Hand. I would very much like to obtain this contract. I am willing to offer you each a dagger of great power in trade." "Huh?" asked Yark. "Daggers," Yim Klocks said. "Different, yet each a wonder in its own right. I do not mean to judge, but I see so clearly that you will use the imparted invisibility to go into the girls' locker room to jerk off." "What?" Couch said. Yim looked down and rubbed his eyes. "Sorry, sorry," he said, waving his hands. Then he looked up again, staring above the boys' heads. "It's just that you are of that kind and that age that your behavior is very knowable and predictable." Then the god looked at them again. "Daggers," he said. "And you get away, fully, from the sphere of influence of the Hand. Deal?" "Deal," Couch said. "Deal," Yark agreed. "Daggers," Yim said with a smile, reaching into his armor and producing two daggers, handing one to Couch and one to Yark. Then he clapped his hands, a thunderous sound which echoed throughout the mall. "Our deal is done. And let me say, I know that you two are not in your right minds. I know this whole string of events must seem like dream-time. But it is real. You were shocked by that electric security device of Joel's, that is what started all this." Then the god was gone. Couch and Yark looked down at their daggers. Just then, a little train went chugging by. It was a ride for kids, this little train. "Wow, look at that," Couch said. "I remember that ride. Huh. I used to love it." "No way," Yark said. "You liked that? I hated it. My dad used to force me to ride, since my sister liked it so much. I tellya man, I don't like it at all. I don't like trains." "Well I do," Couch said. "I like trains. A lot." The two stood up. "Um," said Yark, "can we just walk around the mall carrying daggers around." "Look," Couch said, looking down at his hand. Yark looked and saw that the dagger was gone. Couch flexed his fingers and the dagger was back. Then he flexed his fingers again and the dagger vanished. "How'd you do that?" Yark asked. "Try it," Couch said, bringing the dagger back. "I don't know how I did it. I just thought of hiding the dagger and I just did it." "Okay," Yark said, waving the dagger back and forth. "No," Couch said, "just think, like, that you wat to put it away. Hide it. Just tell it to hide." "Um..." Yark said, and all of a sudden, his dagger was also gone. Then he brought it back. "Wow, cool." "See? Let's just stash 'em and walk around." "Okay," Yark said. Couch entered a nearby toy store and Yark followed. There was a display of toy animals with little light-up eyes. Couch picked up a rabbit, and Yark picked up a dog. "These are cool," said Yark. "This one's the coolest, the dog." "No way Fathgocken--the rabbit is awesome!" "You wanna buy 'em?" "Nah," Couch said, putting the rabbit back, "we can come back later. I don't want to have to carry a bag around all day." "Maybe we could, y'know, do the dagger thing on 'em?" "Let's not push it, man." "Okay." They continued browsing the toy store. "Hey Couch, look!" Yark said. "I got horns!" Couch turned to see Yark holding two toy trumpets up to his head. "Yeah, great," Couch said, and Yark put the horns away. In the game section, Couch leaned against a wall of boardgames. "You know Fathgocken, my uncle's away, I got all this cash, we got these daggers--I think we should do something cool. I think we should go to the Casino at Hacta Home." "What? We'd never get in. We're too young." Couch then brought his dagger back and touched the blade to his cheek. Instantly, he looked a lot older. No longer did he look fourteen--he looked more like twenty-four. Yark back away. "Hold on a second..." "Try it, dude," Couch said in a new, deeper voice. "No way. This is all too weird. It's gotta be a dream." Couch raised an eyebrow. "No way," Yark repeated. "Think about it," Couch said, "if the daggers can do this, they can do a lot of stuff. By tonight, we'll each have a hotel room at Hacta Home. And we'll each be with a girl." Yark said nothing. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 24: THE DARK OF COLLEGE CHAPTER 8 SR-264 ============================== SRdc008--"Vouchers" ============================== Soon, the two were sitting at a desk in a mall travel agent's office. Yark had also made himself look older, but he looked miserable. The travel agent, a middle-aged woman, sat down across from them." "Okay," she said. "It's all taken care of. You guys are lucky--the last bus to the airport is leaving in twenty minutes. Otherwise, you'd have to pay for a cab, and you know how expensive that is these days." "Uh-huh," Couch said, nodding. "Here's your tickets," the woman said. "They're just vouchers, so you'll have to pay for them at the airline counter at the airport. Okay?" "Cool," Couch said. They got up and walked back into the mall, where they were met by Joel Floster, who took a few seconds to recognize them. Then he laughed. "Hey guys," he said. "Wow. I guess Yim Klocks really set you guys up. I mean, he really gave you something good. Wow." Couch made his dagger come back and said "These." "Cool," Joel said as Couch made the dagger disappear. "Anyway, I just wanted to welcome you two to the ranks of the powerful, and tell you that the hovercraft is back at your uncle's house, as if nothing ever happened to it. Yark, I called your father in your voice and told him you were staying over at Couch's place, his uncle's place, whatever. He won't try to call you there." "What did you go and do that for?" Yark said angrily. Joel put his hand on Yark's shoulder, but Yark jerked away. "Hey man, come on," Joel said. "I'm steeped in your plans. This whole episode is so blooming and so ripe. All involved are fully aware. I'm on your side, man." Couch snickered and said "He thinks it's all a dream." Joel nodded and said "Yeah, that's pretty common." "WHAT'S pretty common?" Yark demanded. "When this sort of thing happen, you know," Joel said. The three were silent for a few moments. "Oh," Joel then said. "Casino at Hacta Home, good choice. It spans five realities. I mean, it exists in five places at once. You gotta check out one of the other ones--if you see a girl you like, and she likes you, you just go into this room--they got them everywhere, like bathrooms--and you can screw around as much as you want. That's about the most interesting thing. Oh, and you know the Hacta Home record label? They publish in each of the five worlds, choosing from the best of what the four other worlds have to offer. I was there once, and I had a contact who got me inside, to the part where they all know about everything." "Can we get in?" Couch asked. Joel smiled, shook his head, and motioned toward Couch's hand. "Dear, with those daggers, they'll be draggin' you in kicking and screaming. I wouldn't worry about anything." "Okay hold on," Yark said. "You say you have all these powers and everything, so why would you need some conventional electronic security system?" Joel got a little serious as he said "Okay Yark, I'm going to tell you something now that you should really take to heart, okay? You--" he pointed to Yark, "--me--" he pointed to himself, "we are human. Human beings. These powers we have have access to? These are fun. Dizzying even, get drunk with power. But your humanity will only stretch so far. You gotta be real careful, otherwise you'll wake one day and you'll be a monster--no longer human. You have to limit the powerful stuff, okay friend? You gotta do it and then lay off for awhile--like months or years. Someone told me the same thing once, and I took her seriously. That's why I've been handling it all so well." "Who even said I wanted to get into all this?" Yark asked. "You're in it," Joel said. "Oh, by the way, is that storefront still there, the one the Hand made for you?" "I don't know," said Couch. "Take me to where it was, I want to see it." So Couch and Yark led Joel to the storefront, which was still there, exactly as they had left it, still reading "Vartoon & Fathgocken's Girl Paradise". "Very interesting," Joel said. "Shall we go in?" "I don't know," Couch said. "We traded that Klocks guy the store thing here for the daggers. I don't ever want to go in there again, and even if I did, I don't think we should." "No problem," Joel said. "Mind if I check it out?" "Well since we aren't involved in it anymore," Couch said, "I don't think we can hold you back either way, going in or not going in." "Your names are still on it," Joel said, pointing up at the sign. "Whatever," Couch said in an annoyed manner. "I think I'll check it out," Joel said, and he stepped into the store and was soon out of sight. "Dude, we gotta go get that bus," Yark said. "Yeah man! I wanna go to that world where you can make out with girls whenever you want!" They started walking. "Yeah, but don't forget what Joel said." "About power and stuff? Joel is an idiot. Hopefully we won't have to deal with him anymore," Couch said. "Yeah." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 24: THE DARK OF COLLEGE CUPLINE'S END ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 25: HADRIAN FOZZCOLT 9 Chapters--SR-265 thru SR-273 ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 25: HADRIAN FOZZCOLT CHAPTER 1 SR-265 ============================== SRhf001--"BOCORAM" ============================== The sign on the awesome building: BOCORAM Boolevathers Cosmic Reconnaissance and Aerospace Maintenance Hadrian Fozzcolt... dark skin... cool clothes, gray and black... gray bowler hat... Soon, inside... "Hadrian Fozzcolt, you are now locked in a love embrace with BOCORAM. Me, they call me Honest Hobby Teal. I can be honest with you now, because you are committed to keeping the secrets of BOCORAM with you to the grave, and beyond if necessary. Are you ready to hear all the secrets?" Hadrian took a deep breath and smiled weakly. "This whole process has the tang of ritual suicide," Hadrian said. "Over the past few weeks, getting in deeper and deeper... I have to hope, Teal, that these secrets of yours are worth all the misery." Teal smiled broadly. "I can say, without any hesitation and without any irony, that what I am about to tell you is well worth it, as secrets go." Hadrian raised his eyebrows but had a tired look on his face. "Hadrian," Teal continued, "Boolevathers Cosmic Reconnaissance and Aerospace Maintenance is a white lie. We deceive our people because they want to be deceived. We deceive because the truth is too difficult." "I had a feeling this was what it was all about." "What's that?" "That we don't really go into space. That we use a small part of the money to stage the event for television, and the rest on women and drugs for those in power." Teal laughed. "I wish that was the case, Hadrian. I really do." "It's not?" "Not really. See, you are correct that we do not go into space. This idea is, of course, a popular rumor. But you rely too much on rumors. Liberal malcontents care about making the government look bad. So they see this all as official corruption on a massive scale. But they are wrong." "So now I get the real story?" "Yes. I'll be direct. We don't go into space because there is no space. We have tried, of course. And there is something up there. But it's not space as scientists have come to understand and popularize. It's a totally different thing." Hadrian nodded. "Why can't you tell people about this?" "Well Hadrian, again I'll be direct. Science is our greatest weapon against religion. Science is the religion of atheism. Church rule in this country has historically been a terrible, terrible thing. I think you'll agree that no one in their right mind would want to return to church rule." "Who ever said anything about that?" "You don't understand, Hadrian. It is science that destroyed the foundations of the church. Science has 'proven' that church cosmology is based on ignorance. You know the drill--'Primitive man looked up and saw the sun and had to make up gods as an explanation for what he didn't understand.' Most people, even those who believe that they are religious, accept the truth that science has dumped into their skulls." "So the scientists are wrong?" Teal smiled and nodded his head. "Oh yes. Yes. They are quite wrong. But they think they are right. They have been unwitting pawns in the fight against church rule. Actually, 'pawns' may not be the right term, because this whole situation has developed kind of by accident." "How so?" -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 25: HADRIAN FOZZCOLT CHAPTER 2 SR-266 ============================== SRhf002--"Fight That God" ============================== "Scientists assumed too much," Teal said. "For many centuries, all that astronomers got from space was electromagnetic radiation in various flavors. They started making all sorts of unfounded assumptions, and the theories they came up with were just so delicious and self-consistent that after awhile no one dared to challenge the basic premise of astronomy--that physics in space are the same as physics on earth." "They're not?" "No. Not at all. But we had to actually GO UP THERE to find this out." "Wow." "The thing is, by the time we came to understand the true nature of the sky, about a decade ago, the Church of Boolevathers began its campaign to return to power. If we told everyone that the church was right this whole time and that science was wrong, that would be it. That would do it. The church would be back in power. And all of us here at BOCORAM would at the very least be unemployed, with a very real possibility of torture and execution. And all the good things about science would also suffer. One thing you're going to find out a lot more about are computers. Computers hold an almost infinite potential for positive global change. If the church were to return to power, however, they'd probably wreck every last computer they could get their hands on, and kill anyone who knew how to make one. I think you can see why we can trust you with this information. Only a madman would tell people the truth about this." "I agree." "Good. Now, back to your original theory, that we spend the money earmarked for space exploration on drugs and girls--like I said, I wish that were the case. The sad fact is, however, that faking space travel is just about as expensive as doing the real thing, were it possible. We have a tough job to do here, an important job. No one is happy about being a damn total liar--but the alternative is so bad that it's worth it." "I don't know if I'm interested in working in this field anymore." Teal raised an eyebrow. "I hear that a lot. You want to be part of a new frontier, not part of some miserable theater troupe. Well, you're free to go, though I suggest you think carefully about your decision. Not because you're going to be harmed if you decide to quit--but because what we're doing will ensure a very bright future to the generations to come, albeit in a somewhat roundabout way." "We fake space missions to stave off church power to ensure the advancement of technological science, which will lead to a great future." "That's it." "What IS up there, anyway?" "Our astronauts tell us it's like a dream. The laws of reality are not the same up there. Two plus two does not necessarily equal four up there. It's scary. Truly scary." "Why don't we see any of that from down here?" "We see very little. Light, radio waves, all kind of EM radiation--which we understand the physics of HERE on the surface. And we assume the physics are the same out there. But they're not." "So what about--what about the angle that if the church is right, maybe they SHOULD rule." "They're right about some things. But if killing and torturing are really the will of some god, then I'll do everything I can to fight that god." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 25: HADRIAN FOZZCOLT CHAPTER 3 SR-267 ============================== SRhf003--"A Former Lover" ============================== Hadrian's apartment... "Bline Kaliaphant, I call to come into your world one last time." Hadrian Fozzcolt stated these words without fear. Soon, everything around him became a monochrome bright green, and he could feel himself being pulled in four-dimensional directions. The darkness that followed was like the horror of falling only much worse, but actually kind of pleasurable to Hadrian's sensibilities. Walking, walking, definitely walking. To a platform. A large cylindrical vehicle tilted up at about a thirty-degree angle. A pretty young woman, a blonde, greeted him. "Hail, Mr. Fozzcolt. Transportation is ready," she said, gesturing toward the vehicle. "Thanks," he said, and he started getting into the thing. Then he paused and faced the woman. "You know, this may be the last time I come this way. Curiosity has gotten the better of me and I have to ask--what's the deal with you and your friends here? Where IS here? What's this whole Teleportation Cylinder thing all about?" The woman smiled. "Wow. I don't know what to say. I always just assumed that you--and those like you--who travel these ways--would know everything about everything. I never dreamed that you might not know. Or are you just playing with me, perhaps..." "No, no. Not at all," Hadrian said, stepping down from the door to the vehicle and taking a step closer to the woman. "I really don't understand a lot of what's going on. I may have been more powerful in a past life, but right now, in this life, I don't understand a whole lot." The woman narrowed her eyes and looked Hadrian over. "You know," she said, "when you have a former lover for whom you have no animosity, but you cut off contact with them because such contact would be inappropriate? That is, once you have known a person sexually, it changes things. It makes things weird. I don't know if I'm making sense, and I am dying to tell you a bunch of things right now, but I think it might be better if I don't tell you these things." Hadrian paused. "No," he said. "Do tell me these things." The woman looked down. "I just want to get out of here and go somewhere else. But maybe if I go somewhere else, that wouldn't be good either." "What do you mean by that?" Hadrian asked softly. She locked eyes with him. "Me, seeing you as a possible way out. Maybe all of the people like you who pass through here are as clueless as you say you are. But they all act like they know... I don't know... that they should look down on my kind and not even take my kind seriously." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 25: HADRIAN FOZZCOLT CHAPTER 4 SR-268 ============================== SRhf004--"Horhut Kelmbay" ============================== "What is your kind?" Hadrian asked. "Okay, you are in the middle of an adventure, right?" the woman said. "Um... well, yes. I'm in the midst of a situation involving vast supernatural powers. A friend of mine, Johnny Pitch, seems to think we're near some sort of armageddon, some kind of end of the world. It's very exciting. But I also dread the way things might be a few years from now." Tears formed in the woman's eyes. "I don't know what I know." "What does that mean?" Hadrian asked, stepping closer. She looked away. "All these supernatural powers," she said softly. "People doing things to other people. Terrible things. I mean, normal people are so flawed and disorganized that they CAN'T really get into doing these kinds of things. But the powerful... the supernaturally powerful... can do things. Like kidnap pregnant women and kill them as soon as their children are born and raise such children in a totally closed environment. Experiments. Sick games. Horror. These are the powers that most people wish they had. They don't know that it's the LACK of such powers that makes them halfway decent." Hadrian's eyes widened. "Are you... are you one of these children... the ones you were describing?" She stared at him with a fury in her eyes. "I thought I was on the other side. Equal with those who do such things. But I think I am... it's just... the evil, evil nature of these horrors... the doubts that I have... just look at me." Hadrian furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?" "I'm about sixteen-hundred years old." "Yeah?" "Yeah." Suddenly, a voice came over a loudspeaker. "Hadrian Fozzcolt. Hadrian Fozzcolt. You are needed." Hadrian winced. "That's Bline," he said. "Fuck Bline," the blonde said. Hadrian shook his head. "I can't... I uh... I can't help but get the impression that this wasn't the way I was expecting this conversation to go." "Maybe, Hadrian Fozzcolt, the nature of the drama you're part of is changing." "And what's that supposed to mean?" "Forget it. I fucked you up too much already. If you and me could just rise up out of this place, this filth we are clothed in, if this world of ours could just fade and drain away like a quickly-forgotten dream..." Hadrian shook his head. "No. I'm sorry, but I have to get paranoid here. I'm dealing with too many opposed supernatural forces here. I have to assume that you are trying to derail me from my course, which I have determined to be a good course." "Then I guess I can't convince you otherwise." "No, you can't," he said, and he started climbing into the vehicle again. After a pause, the woman spoke. "Atch-ka-hey. I have stated it. Think about me the next time you masturbate. Fantasize about me. About having sex with me. And something will happen." Hadrian turned, fury in his grimace. "I can deal with little piss-ant spells like that. I may be clueless, but deactivating a silly, retarded little spell like that is nothing I couldn't do in a heartbeat. I don't know who you are, what you are, but I will wreck that little spell of yours and send it back to you tenfold. You are an enemy, woman. Make no mistake about that. I can take care of myself." "My name is Horhut Kelmbay." "Like I care," Hadrian said as he entered the cylindrical vehicle, closing the door behind him. He sat in a seat and breathed heavily, waiting for the ride to begin. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 25: HADRIAN FOZZCOLT CHAPTER 5 SR-269 ============================== SRhf005--"Bline Kaliaphant" ============================== "You are a little jerk," Bline Kaliaphant said. She looked like a disheveled woman in a waitress outfit, and she sat in an empty subway car. "Why's that?" Hadrian Fozzcolt responded. Bline was silent. Hadrian sat across from her. After an annoying period of silence, Hadrian spoke. "That mission you sent me on was a joke, right?" "You are the joke," she responded, speaking in a tired, detached manner. Again, Hadrian didn't respond. There was silence for over a minute, and then Hadrian stood up. "I'm tired of this. I don't need to know anymore. I don't know what you want, and I really don't care. Whoever the fuck you are, why don't we just forget this whole thing? I have enough to worry about." Bline continued to stare into space, expressionless. Hadrian waited for a few moments, and then turned toward the door. "I'm leaving," he said. "No." "No?" She looked at him. After a pause, he said "Why am I not leaving?" "Because this is where things get different." "Meaning...?" "Meaning that it's not the same anymore." Hadrian sighed and sat down again. "Meaning that WHAT is not the same anymore?" "Hadrian, Hadrian. Little jerk. I'm not your mother." Hadrian took a deep breath of resigned frustration. Bline continued. "I have observed Daptin Gone in his activities. He is gone now." "Who? Who's that?" "Daptin Gone. You don't know the name. You're a fool. A little jerk." "Why do you keep on insulting me?" Her eyes widened. "We cannot move forward anymore," she said. "Daptin Gone has been unexpected. He knows of you." Hadrian shook his head. "No... no... you're not gonna keep on piling the bullshit. Not this time. You're gonna tell me what you're talking about." She nodded. "Your fight," she said with bitterness, "was approaching a climax. Johnny Pitch against Daniel Odd. I know what the ending was supposed to be. I don't know anymore, though. I don't know what's going to happen now." Hadrian leaned to the side and looked down. "Are you gonna tell me what you're talking about, Bline?" "I will." "Yeah okay, well why don't you go ahead?" "That man you were all fighting, Ebsekkian..." "Yes?" "Father of the twins Pitch and Odd..." Hadrian frowned and sat up. "What?" "He is their father. You would have found out about it sometime. They would fight, and it would all come out. And with your help, that fucking Johnny would prevent Ebsekkian from destroying the world." "So that is Ebsekkian's intention." "Not anymore." "What do you mean?" Bline took a deep breath. "Now listen you little bastard. Times are dome. Johnny Pitch is a fucking TV show. Daptin Gone watched it. That's it to him. You and your whole little jerky world is science ficiton. To him. But he has an effect on us." "Bline..." "No. Listen. He is affecting us. Our little corner of reality." She paused and looked upward. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 25: HADRIAN FOZZCOLT CHAPTER 6 SR-270 ============================== SRhf006--"Copy of the World" ============================== "Wait," Hadrian said. "Let's talk about the basic nature of information, here. A few years ago I didn't know anything about the supernatural and all these powers. Now I'm getting bombarded by tons of crap info, all of it contradictory. And I act... I just go along with it... with you... with your world, with the transportation to your world..." "You're in your own private little hall of mirrors," Bline said lazily. "No! You enlisted my aid. I tried to help you. Let's get things straight here. I was excited by you... the occult crap surrounding you... being a part of it. But let me tell you--Ebsekkian is the Evil Master of Weirdness. His weapon is confusion and strangeness and meaninglessness. All you, and that girl attendant at the Teleportation Cylinder, and everyone--all you're giving me is weirdness. How do I know you're not all agents of Ebsekkian?" Bline sighed. "Where is this place, anyway?" Hadrian said gesturing all around. "A subway tunnel... and if I got out of this train and started walking, where would I end up?" Bline snickered. "I see you need a purpose," she said. Anger started seething inside Hadrian. He started calling forth powers from deep within him. His emotion ignited a flaring of potential, and he sought to bring forth as much supernatural power as he could. Bline looked to her left, casually. "I'm going to explore this world myself," Hadrian said through clenched teeth. "I want to see for myself where I am and what is going on." "Ah," Bline said, "go ahead. When I was younger, I got this ability. With a snap of my fingers, I could create a copy of the world--but without people and animals. The whole world, I had it all to myself. And I could go back to the real world whenever I wanted. But I could get copies of anything. I strolled through art galleries and took any treasure. Explored those places normally forbidden. It was a thrill, hey, a thrill. But it got boring, as anyone with wisdom could have told me. This is just one of those copies. It's a world, an Earth. Not your Earth, but a similar one. Yeah, a pretty similar one. You can go exploring, I don't care. You'll have fun for a time. I don't know if you'll find a way out without my help. I don't know the extent of your powers." Hadrian took a deep breath. "Okay. Okay," he said slowly. "Will you--can you maybe just tell me everything you know, or want to tell me, or whatever, about this Daptin Gone fellow? What has he got to do with me?" "This is a very complicated universe. Daptin Gone is very far away, but his actions have reverberated throughout the entire universe. To him, you are a character in a TV show. This is not to say, now, okay, you fool, this is not to say that you ARE a character in a TV show. You are real and I am real. But this guy is so far away, with levels of reality and everything such, he is so far away..." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 25: HADRIAN FOZZCOLT CHAPTER 7 SR-271 ============================== SRhf007--"Planet Quald" ============================== "I'm not getting this," Hadrian said. "Just listen, you jerk," Bline said. "I'm trying to be clear here. The universe is enormous. Parts of it relating to other parts of it in incredibly unfathomable ways. And god and supergods and such kin all over the place. But somehow, this man, this Daptin Gone--in all the universe, his recent actions have sent out shockwaves..." "Just let me ask you. Does this have anything to do with Ebsekkian? Are Daptin Gone and Ebsekkian associated in any way?" "No! I don't think so. No. There shouldn't really be any connection there." "Yes. Okay." "But listen. The shockwaves resultant... from his action... spreading out through the universe... and I felt the whole thing, and I got the information. Some information. This is the thing. We... and you in particular... are RELATIVE to Daptin Gone. In this disnass distantful universe, you and he have relative positioning. You, to him, are a character in a TV show. This state is opposed to having no clear relationship with him, as would be the case of most of the residents of everywhere." Hadrian took another deep breath. "Okay Bline. I grasp the gist, eh. Now what? Should I seek to contact this Daptin Gone?" "He is gone." "Like, gone as in not there anymore, or as in his name." "No, as in not there. He was very visible to me for a time, but then he left... or something... and I don't see him anymore." "Okay. So let me ask you something. Should I be concerned about Ebsekkian and my friends? Or is my world just a meaningless fiction?" "I told you that you and your friends are solid, with substance. You should be worried. That's, right, what I've been trying to tell you. Daptin Gone has... done something... something related to the end of the world, of the universe. Something... and at some level, it relates to Ebsekkian's goal of destroying your Earth. I saw through him the story, your story, Johnny Pitch's story... but it's not going to happen like that anymore..." "Okay Bline," Hadrian said. "Let's get onto another subject. The mission. You sent me that letter, cancelling the mission. An artifact from the planet Quald, hidden in a BOCORAM research facility. Then I found out there is no planet Quald. Or any other planets, for that matter." "Oh, there IS a planet Quald, but it's not a planet in the way people generally conceive." "So why the mission? What were you driving at?" "Before Daptin Gone, it made sense. You were going to find out about... that space agency had a whole plan... to fake a coverup... to tantalize the public with rumors of alien artifacts, vehemently denied in official channels... all the more useful... in convincing people about the reality of space travel..." "And what was this... my involvement in this... supposed to accomplish?" "It would have helped in the fight against Ebsekkian. At least, I think that's what it was..." "Bline..." "No, no, it's just me. I'm dealing with too many perspectives. I'm getting confused myself. I have constructed for myself here an observation highland of incredible proportions. I see so many things, and I do try and be good. But Daptin Gone has added so many more levels of depth to everything I see..." Bline's eyes were closed and she looked pained. Hadrian regarded her, and said nothing. Then, all of a sudden, the dim emergency lights in the subway car flickered out, and the much-brighter normal lights flickered on. And with a lurch, the train started moving. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 25: HADRIAN FOZZCOLT CHAPTER 8 SR-272 ============================== SRhf008--"Manny's Attempt of Suicide" ============================== The crazy guy came up to me and Jesk at the bus stop. "Hey man! Did you hear about the wedding?" Adrenaline surged through me and I breathed heavy. The guy was disheveled, long unkempt beard and hair, ripped clothes, dirty. "No," was all I could manage to say. "Yeah!" he said, laughing happily. "It's the good one." Me and Jesk stared at the guy in fear. "Ebsekkian, man! He's getting, like, married! You know Ebsekkian!" "Who?" I managed. "Ebsekkian, Evil Master of Weirdness," he said in exaggerated way. We didn't respond, so he continued. "He's taking a bride. You know what her name is? Lightning Elsewhere. She's so hot I could just... I... I could just like eat her up!" I looked over at Jesk and he shrugged. "So you guys going?" he asked us. "Um, I don't know," I said, fiddling around in my pocket for the little pen knife there, as if I could possibly wield it in defense. "You have to kill yourself to go there," he said matter-of-factly. "What?" Jesk blurted out. "Yeah. But I'm invited. They told me to come." "Who?" Jesk asked. "From the world of Evil Weirdness." Jesk shook his head, always the skeptic, and maybe a little too cocky too. "Where do you people come up with this crap?" he said, clearly putting up a front. "Crap?" the nut said. "Crap? It's not crap kid. I get the transmission--every other day, for five minutes." "Yeah?" Jesk said mockingly. "Had to kill twenty people to get it," the weirdo continued. I stiffened and massaged my little knife. Jesk, also, was speechless. The guy came over and sat next to us. "I gotta kill myself soon. The wedding is tomorrow. But..." Shakily, I looked over at him. Jesk, between him and me, was plotting. I could see it in his eyes. "Why kill yourself?" I said. He looked at me, and when our eyes locked, I saw something strange in his eyes--like stars and galaxies moving toward me. "I've been conditioning myself for years so that my spirit will be suitable for passage in the Place of Evil Weirdness. When I die, Ebsekkian will catch my falling soul and bring me to the wedding. I am one of the few." He didn't seem violent or threatening, other than what he was saying. He just seemed, I dunno--calm. Even happy. "How can you be sure of this?" Jesk said, turning to the man. "No one knows what happens after they die." "I do," the guy said with a smile. "I told you I get the transmission. News and important information beamed straight from Evil Weirdness into my head." His eyes drifted off and he smiled a scary smile. "All those I killed in his name--all of them caught by the Man. But consigned to slavery or worse. Not me. A faithful servant like me--we get rewarded." "If you're a murderer why shouldn't we call the police?" Jesk said haltingly. I got the impression he regretted saying it as soon as he did. The man glared at him for a moment, but then smiled. "No, there will be no police. Not once I offer you the gift." "What gift?" Jesk said, breathing heavily. The man smiled, turned away, took a lit, smoking pipe out of his pocket, and crushed it in his hand. "Here it is boys. I killed twenty, and have sworn my life and soul to Ebsekkian," he said. Then, more animated, "The power! You can't imagine! Being able to look inside people, manipulate then. Seeing and commanding elemental forces. Raising chaos and madness! Destroying... And the transmissions... Scenes of such glorious excess and Odditey! Such total SEX and MADNESS!" He turned to us, eyes utterly insane. "YOU'LL BE CUMMING THE WHOLE TIME! YOU CAN'T HOLD BACK WHEN THE TRANSMISSION IS ON!" I stood up and backed away. "Leaving so soon? Before my offer, Poale?" "How... how did you know my name?" "I can see into you. And just like the character you're named after from 'The Aleche Degrasion', you too hold great potential for darkness within you!" -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 25: HADRIAN FOZZCOLT CHAPTER 9 SR-273 ============================== SRhf009--"Kitten With Milk" ============================== "Shut up!" I yelled. "No," the guy said authoritatively, as Jesk also got up. Then he smiled again. "Here it is!" he said, holding his hands up in a showmanlike fashion. "I could kill myself, but it would be a waste, for he who kills me gains all my Evil Weirdness. This is an offer that won't pass your way again, Poale. I offer you vast power, vast pleasure--and ask for nothing in return! An event such as this is rare! If you pass this opportunity by, you'll regret it the rest of your days!" As I looked at him, I started to feel strange. I started getting these visions. Horrible stuff--scenes of such total evil and degradation. I was shocked that such stuff would even cross my mind. But I could tell--I could tell he was putting them there. And he knew--he knew that I liked what I saw, even if I was still lying to myself then." "What's wrong with you man?" Jesk yelled. I grabbed him by his shirt and threw him down to the ground. He was totally surprised. "Wh... what the hell's wrong with you Poale?" he said, getting up and backing away. "I don't know," I said. Then the bus came. Jesk looked at it, then back at me. "Are you coming to see Uncle Manny or not?" "I'll catch the next bus," I said. He shook his head, saying "fuck you", and got on the bus. A moment later, I wondered why what just happened had happened. We were best friends. Then I looked at the weirdo. "Call me Zigzug Haine," he said. Then he produced a hypodermic needle from his jacket. I looked at it, fascinated, and vaguely aware that he was overpowering my mind. He gave me an innocent look. "Come on, Poale. Ebsekkian said that I had to find someone to replace me if I want to go to the wedding. Be a friend. Don't you know that all the guests at an Evil Weirdness wedding have to have sex with the bride? Do you know how much I want to fuck Lightning Elsewhere? It's all I can think of! And you--you little freak--out of everyone in Derolbam, you're the one. You're the one with the most potential. I ask you to stick this cyanide inta me. Kill me. Then I'll be on my way and you'll be on yours." A vision of a woman, who must have been Lightning Elsewhere, flashed into my mind, and a wildness just grew in me, and a tightness grew in my pants. "I'm screwing with your head, Poale, that's for sure. But not enough to force you. You have to choose to do it. Choose to kill me." He put the hypo down next to him on the bench. Then he took off his jacket, revealing his bare arms. He threw the jacket onto the ground, faced forward, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. My mind was a frenzy--at the sight of his bare, tattooed arm, I was filled with a crazy desire to plunge the hypo deep into his flesh and inject the poison deep into his veins. I shook my head--these weren't my thoughts, these were his... "I'm only magnifying your true spirit," he said, clearly reading my mind. I narrowed my eyes and frantically looked around, searching the area for people. "There's no one around. I made sure of that." As he said these words, an irrational hatred for Zigzug gushed up in me. I despised him, wanted him dead. More than anything, I wanted to kill him. "Do it," he said. "Imagine the feeling of all my power, all my blood, sweat and tears of thirty years--you sucking it all into you. YOU'RE EVIL! YOU KNOW IT! WHY SUFFER AT THE HANDS OF THE INSECTS ALL YOUR LIFE, WHEN YOU CAN FULFILL YOUR TRUE EVILNESS AND CONQUER ALL!" I was a pulsating ball of rage. I knew what he was saying about me was true, and I hated him all the more for forcing me to see the real me. A few moments of this frenzy and I was gone. With a terrible roar I lunged forward, primitively grasped the hypo, and stabbed it into that ugly bare arm. With great relish, I pressed the plunger with my thumb and pumped liquid death into Zigzug's veins. And once the plunger was all the way down, I pushed the needle further into his arm with my straining fist. I searched for his eyes, and he obliged by opening them and locking them with mine. And all those stars and galaxy came into me. I slurped and devoured all the Evil Weirdness this psycho had to offer. I took it all into me, ruining my soul forever, I knew. But I didn't care. He was right. Why suffer my whole life when I had the chance to triumph and reign? I took it. I lapped it up like a kitten with milk. The transfer of Evil Weirdness took only a few seconds, and the strain of it was enormous. Both of us collapsed. And I blacked out, knowing in my last moment of consciousness that I would never be in the light again, never for the rest of my life and beyond. I would forevermore be in darkness. I liked the idea. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 25: HADRIAN FOZZCOLT CUPLINE'S END ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 26: CARNE'S MOISTURE DETECTION FRIEND 4 Chapters--SR-274 thru SR-277 ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 26: CARNE'S MOISTURE DETECTION FRIEND CHAPTER 1 SR-274 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 20 sr20 26.1--Carne's A-M -------------------------- ============================== "Where is that darn Moisture Detection Friend of mine?" Carne said. "I'm not sure," Pacer said. "I saw him at the strip mall across the street two days ago, but it was from a distance." "You didn't talk to him?" "I was riding by on my moped. I had to get to Toys'R'Us before it closed." "Thanks, that's really helpful." "Hey man! I had to get the Insaniac action figure from Small Soldiers!" "How was that movie, by the way?" "It's kind of horrible," Pacer said, "but in such a way that it could become a cult classic. I liked it, but I can't really recommend it. It reminded me a little of Last Action Hero. You know how the kid in that movie was so friggin' annoying? This kid is even worse. You just want to punch him in the face, he's such an irritating little freak!" * * * "You know Pacer, I think my Moisture Detection Friend likes your sister," Carne said. "Yeah, well, I don't know what to say to that," Pacer said. "Yeah, I don't know. Hey, how much further before we get to the abandoned ski resort with all the arcade video games locked in the basement?" "As soon as we turn this corner, you'll see it... yup, there it is!" "And there are video games in the basement?" "Yeah, I told ya, I saw 'em myself! I looked in through the window." "Well, it's such a shitty day out, hopefully no one else will be around. Gray and cold and wet. I guess we need days like this in order to appreciate the truly nice days." "Huh? Sorry, I wasn't listening. So look, I got the bolt cutter in the trunk, we'll break in, see if there's anything worth taking, and if there is, we'll go into town a rent a U-Haul." "Maybe we should just try and locate the owner and do it the legal way. I'm sure we could get all the games real cheap." "Um, but we can get them for free this way." "If I was storing valuable games in a remote, insecure location, I might protect them with an airborne virus trap. But that's just me," Carne said. * * * "It seems like everyone has a website these days. Even my Moisture Detection Friend has one," Carne said. "I'm gonna have a website," Pacer said. "Oh yeah, what's it gonna... Whoah!" "Hey! Come on man! Stop driving like a psycho!" "It wasn't my fault, that guy totally cut me off!" "Well, I don't know. Just you're always supposed to be in control of your vehicle, y'know? Anyway, my website? It's gonna be of imaginary cat food. It's gonna have all graphics and shit. This friend of mine? He knows a guy in the city who does artwork and logos and stuff, and he says he can draw all the fake cat food cans and make them look, y'know, real." "So, what, like something like 'Frothy's Buffet', and have a rabid cat foaming at the mouth--something like that?" "Um... not really... we're not really going for that college humor sort of direction. We have some stuff like 'Nuts and Bolts Cat Food for the Robotic Cats'. Or, 'Lumber Scrap Cat Food for the Wooden Cats"' all stuff like that." "So, is this meant--is it meant as comedy, or as..." "It's mainly the artwork. I saw some of what this guy does. I tellya, it looks--y'know--totally professional. Anyway, we're gonna let people see like two or three of the cat food cans, and then they can pay a monthly fee to see the whole collection--like ten dollars a month, or something. Not that much. And then we'll split it with this guy, the guy in the city." "And you think people are gonna be... um... signing up for this?" "That's the beauty of it," Pacer said. "There are millions and millions of people online. Say ten million. If we just get, like, I don't know, one percent of the people out there, that's like, a hundred-thousand people. And each of them paying ten dollars a month, um... well, I figured it out, and over the course of just one year, we'll make like over ten million dollars. So my split will be, like, three million dollars or something. And that's just one year!" * * * "I was at a beautiful place," Carne said. "My Moisture Detection Friend had been there a week earlier. It's kind of hard to describe. It was a glass lodge on top of this hill, with a killer view. Everyone just sits in there and smokes these great cigars and drinks this awesome iced coffee." "Yeah?" Pacer said. "That sounds pretty cool. So when the fuck is this ride gonna start up again? I'm tired of sitting here in the 'Amethyst Cave of the Ancient Way'. This ride sucks, man." "I don't know. I think all these rides have great character. Maybe from the viewpoint of whatever modern aesthetic you adhere to you might think of this ride as 'corny', but giving it such a simplistic label would be doing it a disservice." "Did you see that Erica I was talking to before? I told her I was gonna meet her at the 'Major Frolicking Waters' stage show thing, y'know? But I'm sitting here in this friggin' dark ride. No, it's not a dark ride, it's a dork ride." "What I am often fascinated by is the application of the term 'artifical reality' when referring to rides such as this one, or places like that lodge I was telling you about. Is not all human architecture and design meant to evoke something beyond the natural world?" "You know man, I don't wanna get into this with ya, and I'm just about to jump off the ride and head for that exit sign over there, though I know I'll get jumped by security before I make it ten feet. But your argument is wack. It's not a matter of strict black-and-white definitions, it's a matter of extent! And what the hell does a crystal, fairy, jerk-around cave have to do with my life?" "Yeah. So what was up with that Erica girl? Do you know her from somewhere?" "Nah," Pacer said, "she was wearing a T-shirt of this band I like, 'The Associated General Contractors'. So I just started talking to her. I'm starting to believe in this philosophy a lot of guys have, to like ask out every girl you meet. Maybe one of out twenty will say yes. It makes me feel like an asshole, but when am I gonna see these people again, anyway? But Erica really seemed to like me. And I tellya, I'd rather be staring at her face right now that looking at these goddamn fruity purple elves!" * * * "This is the strip mall you saw my Moisture Detection Friend at, isn't it?" Carne said. "Yup," Pacer said. "What was it, a few weeks ago? A month ago? I was going to buy that stupid action figure. And I wound up in the rafters of the Toy'R'Us, swinging around like a monkey, till I finally lashed myself to a beam and fell asleep. I slept all that night, the next day, and into the day after that. I don't think anyone saw me the day I slept, but the next day, I woke up screaming from some yellow and aquamarine nightmare, and the management team was all pissed-off that I was lashed up there. It was a real mess." "Uh-huh. You know, there's something peaceful about sitting at the spot where sidewalk meets parking lot. Very humble, very cool, very Zen. Maybe I'll create a computer game centered around the act of sitting in a place like this." "Yeah? Cool. Um... What I just said? It's true. I know it sounds like a lie, but it's totally true. Just go to Toys'R'Us and ask them. I have to go to court in a week-and-a-half cuzza the whole thing." "I know you well enough to believe you. But how did you get into such a hairy, zany predicament? And why didn't you tell me sooner?" "Ah, it was that damn health food store, the new one that just opened up on the strip? They have all these natural, legal drugs there that you can take. Damn expensive, by the way. Anyway, I took way too many of these drugs--they call them 'herbs', but what's the difference, right? So I took all this shit, and I went bonkers. I thought I was a monkey. I really did! Or an ape. Or a mandrill. Or something like that, I don't know." "How did you lash yourself?" "Um... I raided the back-to-school department. Backpacks? You know how they have those plastic clip-lock kind of thingies? I grabbed a whole bunch and connected them all together. It worked remarkably well." "And for an entire day, as you slept, no one noticed you?" "Oh, I'm sure people noticed me. But people are sheep. They don't want to get involved. People suck." "Yeah, they're pretty bad. So anyway, why have you been keeping this a secret from me?" "Um... I know this is gonna sound lame, but I didn't really remember the whole thing at first. And I wanted to have the full story before I told you. That's it, man." "Look at those birds over there," Carne said. "And the sub sandwich wrapper. And the weeds. It all means something. I tellya, it all means something." * * * "My cousin was pretty unique," Carne said. "Her and my Moisture Detection Friend would sit around for hours, playing strange games without saying a word. So when my cousin joined that cult, we were all very disappointed. We were expecting great things from her." "What cult was that again?" said Pacer. "They worship this guy named Greg Ann Conway. He's a maniac. He makes them sleep in Nineteenth-Century gambler outfits. You know like on riverboats, like in the 'Karma Chameleon' video? They sleep dressed like that. A damned ridiculous idea." "That sucks, man... Y'know, is this rain ever gonna stop? Can you even see where you're going?" "The directions are pretty sketchy, but I tellya, I knew the guy we're going to meet in college. He's a real computer genius. If anyone can load my cousin's disk, it's him. It's amazing we even found it, considering how well she hid it." "So whattaya think is on there? Poems? Drawings? A novel?" "We're leaning toward a novel. She always said she was working on one, but she'd never give specifics. And if the disk does contain a novel, maybe if we publish it, it'll snap her out of this stupid cult involvement." "Cool. Damn it's windy! I think this shitty Ford Aspire of yours might just go and blow away--with us in it! What possessed you to buy such a friggin' lame car?" "Oh, I don't know. I kind of like my little Aspire. It's not much of a car, but it gets me where I want to go. And whenever I see some big shot pass by in a Hummer, smoking a big expensive cigar, I smile, and take a draw on my corncob pipe, and know that I am free of that man's burdens." "What? Man, you're losin' it. I think you're in some kind of cult. Some kind of Ford Aspire, corncob pipe kind of wacky cult. And you don't take this austere, Zen attitude when it comes to buying your audiophile shit! You spent more on your turntable than on your car!" "Well, I bet you've spent more on those silly action figures of yours than your... um, your... that new moped you're thinking of buying." "Come on man! Action figures are the, like, quintessential representation of the rebirth of our culture! You gotta realize that! The statues of the gods have become the plastic figurines of godlike characters! You gotta know that!" "Maybe my cousin is smart to be in that Greg Ann Conway cult," Carne said. "She doesn't have to worry about cars or pipes or action figures or mopeds. All she has to do is wander around all day long, doing whatever Greg Ann tells her to do. I heard that last week she was selling sand to inner city youth. And that's not so bad." * * * "In 1982 there was a videogame called 'Moon Patrol'," Carne said. "My Moisture Detection Friend could play that game for hours and hours. He didn't care. If he had to be somewhere, meet someone. Nothing." "Yeah, I went on a moon patrol once," Pacer said. "You liked the game too?" "No, I mean a real moon patrol. I went with a friend of mine, who's in the Moon Brigade. You know those UFO's they found in Arizona or something? They figured out how to make 'em. Anyone can go to the moon. You just have to know the right people." "So Pacer, what is the moon like? What's it like to actually be there?" "Hold on a minute. Um... excuse me! Yeah, can I get some more water here, please? Thank you. Geez, this place has terrible service." "Yeah, it's not too good. So now, what were you saying about the moon?" "I didn't get to walk around, I just stayed in the UFO. And the Earth, it looks like someone painted it up there. It looks fake, y'know?" "So, this was a dream?" "Yeah. So?" "So why'd you say it was real?" "Dreams are real. They're part of reality. You experience them in a similar way to the way you experience life in the waking world. Why not?" "I think this conversation we're having is a dream," Carne said. "It's certainly not up to par with other conversations we've had!" * * * "Leonard Maltin. That's his name," Carne said. "My Moisture Detection Friend tells me he knows a lot about movies." "Yeah? Cool," Pacer said. "Wow--look up. Willya just look up there! The Contemporary Resort Hotel! Can you believe that we're actually here? This is like, I don't know, like the greatest place in the world! And we're gonna be driving those little speedboats around Bay Lake and Seven Seas Lagoon in a matter of minutes!" "Yeah, well, not if it starts to rain. Look at that thunderstorm there, um, in the distance." "Nonsense. Total nonsense. It'll rain for like five minutes. And what are they gonna do if we're out there, kick our ass or something? I don't think so." "I don't know, Pacer. I've heard some pretty wild things about Disney security." "Yeah, but that's for like college kids who jump off the ride in the Haunted Mansion and start beating the shit out of the ghosts and stuff. They got cameras everywhere man. I knew this one guy who jumped off the boat in It's a Small World and started beating the shit out of one of those little puppets, and they like took him away and locked him up and handcuffed him and everything." "Who is this, that you know and who did that?" "I don't know. That dude Klein. Klein something... I don't know. His buddies just dared him. So he had to do it. I don't think he got in all that much trouble, but all I know is that he's not allowed to ride that ride anymore." "Yeah. Hey, check out those girls over there." "Wow. I could do with a little bit of that. Geez, just think, those girls were probably born after Epcot opened! Is that wild?" "Look, Pacer! A raindrop on my arm! It started raining already! There's no way they're gonna let us go out on those boats now!" "Yeah, great. That sucks. Hey, you know how we were talking about dimensional travel before, how we could go and see like the Western River Expedition and the Asian and Persian and Venetian Hotels, and the Tron Arcade, and all that? I was thinking about something like 'rain travel', where you could go from like one time and place where it's raining to another. So we could, for example, go to the Short Hills Mall at a point in time when it was raining there." "Could we, perhaps, go to that cave where the Nazis hid trillions of dollars worth of gold and art masterpieces? I know it couldn't rain in the cave, but if it was raining outside, could we use rain travel to jump right into the cave?" "I don't know, man. Come on, let's head on back to the Fiesta Fun Center. Or whatever the hell they call it now." "I think it's time to take a long, depressing Walt Disney World bus ride in the rain. Whattaya say?" Carne said. * * * "Hey Pacer," Carne said, "did you know that my Moisture Detection Friend used to go door-to-door, offering people $20 cash for unworking remote controls?" "Why?" Pacer said. "He would take them apart, smash them up, whatever. He had one of those huge bottles--the kind some people try and fill with pennies. He was trying to fill it with remote control parts." "What is he, stupid?" "I don't know," Carne said. "But he must have spent about a thousand dollars on the project. And now the bottle is just about full, but it's sitting in his basement and he never even looks at it! And when he went through his next phase--his CB radio phase--his nickname was 'Remote Control Crusher'. I think there might be some allegorical meaning to it, but darned if I know what it is." * * * "Three days ago I was in a sewing store with my Moisture Detection Friend," Carne said. "We spent eight hours there." "Why?" Pacer said. "My sewing friend asked me to watch his store while he went to court. My Moisture Detection Friend had nothing better to do than hang out with me. We spent the whole time making fun of all the sewing crap." "What was your friend in court for?" "Oh, you know that town. He experimented with selling 'adult' sewing patterns, and the township got all bent out of shape. It was some kind of First Amendment thing. I don't know. He said he'd stop selling the naughty goods--he said he really didn't care. But they wanted to fine him anyway." "Wow man, that sucks." "What sucks even more is that the sex sewing sets have started to catch on--getting national attention and everything. They're kind of a hot item now," Carne said. "A few people even asked for them while I was at the store. I just told 'em to go to the porno shop across town. Heck, I don't know if that store has the sewing kits, but I'm sure those people will find something there to appease them." * * * "Yeah, 'hoopy' was a word from The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy," Carne said. "Last month, my Moisture Detection Friend started using it, figuring it was cool to use a word like that." "Aren't they coming out with a new movie of that?" Pacer said. "I think so. Yup. So anyway, you're telling me that all these treehouses just appeared out of nowhere? And nobody questioned it?" "I tellya man, I was here like two days before they appeared. There was an article about it in the local paper. But everyone just kind of thinks it's somebody else's problem. No one's doing anything about it." "And you can actually go in 'em?" "Yeah! Come on, I'll show ya. The weird thing is, they all seem like they're very old, y'know, been here for a long time. The wood is all weathered and everything. I found a really weird coin in one of them, and I told the newspaper, but they weren't really interested." "This is really unbelievable. I mean, it shows how--y'know--how all this unexplained stuff--how it can go by virtually unnoticed and unchallenged." "Yeah, and the part that sucks is, I'm part of the problem. I could be doing more, but I have a lot of other stuff in my life, and I can't devote the time and energy--and money--that it would take to try and bring this to the attention of the public. "Who owns this land anyway?" "I don't know. It's real near a state park, but I think it might be part of an estate that's in total dispute. I guess the guy died and his relatives are fighting over it. I don't know." "You know, I'm part of the problem too," Carne said. "I should be thinking about this amazing treehouse phenomenon totally. But I keep thinking that I want to get to Sam Goody before it closes to get that My Bloody Valentine album, Loveless. I shouldn't be thinking about that, but I am." * * * "Wow, man," Carne said. "I love hanging out at a seaport cinnamon shop, half-asleep and having just met a ton of celebrities. My Moisture Detection Friend would be jealous." "Huh?" Pacer said. "This is cool man! I wanna take a boat to Brazil!" "Chill out, man. I don't think that supersonic boat is real. I think it's just a gimmick or a rip-off or a tourist attraction or something." "You couldn't be more wrong," Carne said. "I'll be in Brazil in about an hour-and-a-half. Oh wow! Check out these cinnamon Spuds Mackenzie wafers! These have gotta be at least fifteen years old! Geez... I'm wiped out, man. I'm totally wiped out." * * * "My Moisture Detection Friend can be quite good at electronics when he puts his mind to it," Carne said. "Just last week, someone gave him one of those new-fangled birthday cards that plays 'Happy Birthday' when you open it--you know--on a little electronic device." "Yeah," Pacer said. "Well, he must have stayed awake for like two days reconfiguring the thing so it plays 'Music to Watch Girls By' when you open it. It sounds pretty cool. And he was quite proud of himself for the accomplishment." "What song is that?" "'Music To Watch Girls By'. It's a great song. It was... I don't know... Andy Williams or something. He sang it, at least. I don't know if he wrote it. I don't think he wrote it." "Well, I guess we have to stop walking--this looks like the end of the road." "Yeah... I don't cherish walking back the same way, though. Maybe we should just keep on going." "Well, I may be mistaken, but isn't that a massive wall of sticker bushes up ahead? I see many varieties of nasty thorns." "Yeah, but who knows? Maybe it's not as bad as it seems. And we're dressed for this Autumn weather. We might be okay." "Oh, alright. Let's go." "Onward!" Carne said. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 26: CARNE'S MOISTURE DETECTION FRIEND CHAPTER 2 SR-275 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 23 sr23 26.2--Carne's N-Z -------------------------- ============================== "Well hey," Carne said. "Those sticker bushes weren't so bad! No doubt my Moisture Detection Friend would have whined and complained about such an experience, but you and I, Pacer, are made of tougher stuff regarding such experiences." "And we're still in the same general area as were were before we went through the bushes," Pacer said. "That's somewhat impressive." "I know. The gravel road before us is of the same kind of gravel. But... well, not quite. I like this gravel better. It's sharper, more rocklike. I like that." "Who's Vontolleny?" "Huh?" "That skywriting up there. It says 'Vontolleny is cool.' See it?" "Um... oh yeah. I think it's just that new videogame character, the one who travels around through the certificates on people's walls, the tan and white bridge-dwelling jackdaw? You know the one I mean?" "Wasn't that some vaporware game from like ten years ago?" "Apparently the game is gonna happen. Or has already happened." "I hope they make a View-Master for it." "They won't," Carne said. "They don't make videogame View-Master reels, I don't think. Videogames are the most massive piece of pop culture real estate that is treated like dirt, mostly. Or... maybe just as every pebble is a little different... um... I mean... ah whatever. Let's go get some coffee." * * * "My Moisture Detection Friend bought a subscription to a magazine from an alternate reality," Carne said. "He got two issues, and then... nothing. I've been helping him investigate the phenomenon, but we haven't had much success. And he lives in fear of government agents breaking down his door to confiscate his alternate reality contraband!" "Yeah, the world is weird. Weird stuff like that happens sometimes," Pacer said. * * * "It is a peculiar kind of otherworldliness that my Moisture Detection Friend possesses," Carne said. "We often invest an image of otherworldliness in other people, and at times that assessment is wrong. It is based on our innate hunger for otherworldliness." "'Otherworldliess'--how many letters does that have?" Pacer said. "Um... sixteen." "I knew a girl once who seemed pretty otherworldly, but she turned out to be a psycho, and not much more." "Well you see, that's just what I'm talking about! That 'other world' we are so much in love with is actually right here--and our inability to see it is the impetus behind all of our problems." "Yeah man, this girl had problems. She thought that people were just piles of leaves--like you get in Autumn--piles of leaves that just transformed and became people. Weird, huh?" "Well, it could be that she was a psycho, but also, maybe she was just putting on an act so you'd leave her alone. I know how you obsess on women." "Yeah," Pacer said, "that's what I thought. But a long time after I stopped talking to her, I'd see her lying on the ground, hugging piles of leaves and stuff. So I think she may have actually had some genuine problems." * * * "Yeah, hello," Carne said. "I am talking to you from an airport chocolate store in Iowa or something. Can you hear me? My Moisture Detection Friend would love this place! He would totally suspect that time travellers from the 1970s were all around here." "Carne man, I can barely hear you!" Pacer said. "What are you calling from, a walky-talkie or something?" "Almost!" Carne said. "It's one of those newfangled anti-satellite phone systems. Ytterbium, I think they call it. Instead of satellites, they bury transmitters deep in the earth's crust, allowing you to call from any point on Earth--even Iowa!" * * * "Wow, Pacer's not here," Carne said. "That's weird. I knew he was planning on trading Wacky Packs with my Moisture Detection Friend, but it's one of those stupid science fiction fan holidays today, like 'Square Root of Pi Day' or something. I thought he'd be celebrating it. Maybe I should check out some depressing malls, being that it's a weekday afternoon. Or I could go to a gardening store and think about monorails. Yeah... that's a good plan..." * * * "My Moisture Detection Friend helped design a strip mall," Carne said. "He included a hatch at an interior corner which inexplicably led down into an underground entertainment area, with monsters, pirates, robots, and all that kinda stuff. They kicked him off the project, but last week the strip mall opened, and damned if they didn't have that hatch and all the stuff he designed!" "Wow," Pacer said. "And they didn't pay him anything?" "No--but he didn't care. They like sent their lawyer over, all worried and everything, but he just laughed and said that the fact that something like that was actually built was more than enough payment." "So there's no sign on it or anything? It's just like this hatch in the middle of nowhere?" "That's it! But they must have spent hundreds of thousands of dollar on the entertainment center it leads to." "So it's free to get in?" "Yes! There's nothing barring you at all! You just climb down the hatch, and there you are!" "So people must be getting to know it by word of mouth and press and stuff, huh? But how do they make money?" "Advertising. The place is full of advertising." "That's not so bad. At least they don't have those Japanese animation booths, where you insert $200 and it automatically spits out a DVD anime adventure starring an anime version of you, and your friend, if you got one! And if you want to see the next episode, you gotta pay another $200!" "Well..." Carne said. "They do have those. But they only charge $175." * * * "Today marks the third day that my Moisture Detection Friend is spending in an alternate reality with a bunch of kids who have a secret hideout in a quarry, under a big pile of rocks," Carne said. "How'd he get over there?" Pacer said. "It's easier than you might think. Alternate realities are all over the place. You can walk to them, anytime. Just, normally your mind won't allow you to even consider going to the right places." "Yeah? So how do you actually go about doing it, then, my friend?" "Well, he's good friends with two fairies, and they lead him around. But I'm sure there'd have to be some other way of doing it. I mean, most people lose the ability to see fairies at about age six. And the memories are cloudy. Kids have a natural antagonism toward fairies, as evidenced by how few are led off to permanent lostness by them." "You're talking about fairies as if they're real. Why, man?" "Because they are!" "And you, do you also have this ability to talk to fairies?" "I try to. And I think I've had some communication. But it's never very lucid or concrete." "They say that fairies and aliens are the same thing. Back in the old days, people felt they came from Fairyland, cuz that made sense back then. Now, the only uncharted territory people can conceive of is outer space. So they think the little fuckers are from outer space. People are dumb, man." "Yeah, I know," Carne said. "But not all the fairies have flying saucers. The techno-fairies and the trad-fairies split a long time ago. And there's a lot of other splits in the fairy world. I think, all-in-all, we're lucky not to have to deal with the fairies and all their problems. We have enough problems of our own." * * * "My Moisture Detection Friend had an idea for a story," Carne said, "with an entertainment building with a dark ride that you go through on your own personal vehicle, going to all these different themed areas, and then stopping for views, dining, resting, etc. Like you control these vehicles somewhat, deciding where to go next, and hotels in there, and you can stay there for days and days. And also, in comparison, another part of the story, like this park. Kind of like Washington Square Park in the sixties, with all these people, like at night in the summer, and exploring the idea of the promise that such a situation holds--but instead of the promise giving way to diappointment, you know, like it just keeps getting better and better? Like not the dark side, but that initial sense of the cool stuff that might happen, and then it does? That's what he's talking about." "Cool," Pacer said. * * * "You know that painful feeling of nostalgia, equal parts pain and pleasure?" Carne said. "My Moisture Detection Friend loves that feeling. He tries to cultivate that feeling, but it's not so easy all the time. The past is so alluring because it's out of reach. Just like that toy you had as a kid, that you search garage sales for. That toy is an object of worship! But once you get it, it's just not the same. You see what I mean?" "Yeah," Pacer said. "But still, if I could time travel to a Toys'R'Us in 1975 or something, I think I'd have a wicked time. A totally wild, insane, wicked fuckin' time." * * * "Can you believe it?" Carne said. "We're finally down South, on this back porch right next to a swamp, banjo music playing, all that good stuff. And it's hot, really hot! My Moisture Detection Friend would be so jealous. He loves cliches." "Yeah, man," Pacer said. "So when are we going to the mall? I gotta get a new pair of Oakley sunglasses, and I wanna see if they have that new videogame at the arcade." "I am not at all distressed by your statement. Though we are in a semi-legit location, I think that these themes and cliches go hand in hand with the milieu of the mall. In fact, we should come up with a new kind of place at a mall, with these kind of themed locations and the like." "They already have it to some degree. Rainforest Cafe, for example. And a lot of stores are theming themselves more and more these days. They got all this competition from the online stores--they gotta come up with ways to lure people in." "I know what you mean, but... but I can't help but think that people would pay to be in a pure location like this--no shopping, no restauants, no drinks--just unadulterated location." "Well, Disney-style dark rides have been doing that for decades, haven't they?" "They have, but it's all a bit tainted with stories and characters and most of all the darn time limit. If I could, I'd like to spend hours and hours in the Pirates of the Caribbean universe! You know?" "Well, in California they do have that restaurant that's kinda in the Pirates world... but I guess you're talking about more like just being there..." "Yes! I'd like to pay a small fee, and just be there. No time limit, no structure, no sequence--just the being. Kind of like that dark ride building kind of idea... where you just wander and be in cool themed places. That is what I'm talking about." "Shit! Another friggin' mosquito bite! This reality shit is bullshit. Give me a fake version any day--without bugs and heat and shit!" "I quite agree," Carne said. "Just like looking at a painting of a thing is a far different, and perhaps better, experience than looking at the real thing, so too with this whole idea of themed locations. And maybe we're just the ones to make an idea like the one I've been describing a reality. 'Carne & Pacer's Themed Something or Other'. That's a goal, my friend--something we've been sorely lacking! Y'know?" * * * "My Moisture Detection Friend is trying to create online entertainment," Carne said, "but web surfers' attention spans are very short, and those folks are very fickle. Faced with information overloads, minds frazzle and pop, and your website could easily be blown out in one of those pops, in each person's mind." "Yeah," Pacer said. "A lot of stuff on the web sucks. And even the stuff that's good sucks at some level. And usually on many levels. The traditional network and publishing idea, with very strict editors and decisionmakers filtering content... that was a good idea." "I agree. When there were only three or four TV channels, folks could talk about the shows the next day at work. But with hundreds of millions of websites, usually no two people have seen the same thing. But then there's the promise of bringing together exactly those people who went to that website, online, via chat and message boards and email and the like." "That's the problem. It's the casualness that's cool. The people in the place you work, you're just thrown in with them. There's a reluctance on your part, but that makes it cool. Just like TV. You flip around, and you're like, this all sucks, but then you catch something and start watching it, and whatever. It's not like you sought it out. When you have no expectations, it's a lot easier to have a good time." "I quite agree. That is why I told my Moisture Detection Friend that he has to come up with something so good that it transcends all these barriers. Of course, every website creator is trying to do the same. Commercial sites, at least. And they are all failing, to some exent. You're right. People fare the best without expectations." "And the moment you check something out, it's no longer new. It's old. That's a big thing. And also, what it means to be cool. People are like apes. They look around and do what other people do. You can't say that's totally a bad thing, cuz without that psychological dynamic, it'd be a pretty fucked-up world. We need commonality. But it needs to be balanced with individualism. And these days. everything's out of whack." "Yes, I agree. And the Internet is taking all the mystery out of the world. It makes you think the world is full of perverts, obsessors, idiots, and victimizers. Sports, weather, politics, TV, music, movies... there's gotta be more to life." "Hey, what about that thing we're gonna do, that big dark ride thing? We could have a website, y'know, like virtual and 3-D, but also with live cams and all that, and people in the vehicles can talk to the people online and stuff like that? That'd be cool." "I know, but this thing we want to build is going to cost, I don't know, hundreds of millions, maybe even over a billion dollars. Where are we gonna find that kind of money?" "Dude, you may have your Moisture Detection Friend, but I have a cool friend too. A Chronoscope Friend. He's developing a chronoscope--a device which can look back in time. We could use it to find buried treasure or something. Or make porno movies of historical figures. Or solve crimes. I don't know." "I daresay that a true chronoscope would certainly dwarf our dark ride idea, by many orders of magnitude. If your friend does indeed invent such a device, and is awarded a patent, he'll be far richer than even Bill Gates, if he's not instantly murdered by the government the moment they catch wind of it." "Yeah. Like that guy who invented a car that runs on water. I think they killed him. Or just like gave him millions of dollars to just forget he ever thought of it." "But, you know," Carne said, "in the case of a chronoscope, I think that most people would prefer that such a device not exist. It would mean a complete and utter lack of privacy. Everything that anyone ever did would be open to potential viewing by anyone with the device. And it would destroy the mystique of history. And that would suck." * * * "Powerful. Yeah, with real power you aren't burdened. My Moisture Detection Friend always tells me..." Carne said. "There you go again," Pacer said. "You always start every conversation mentioning your Moisture Detection Friend." "Um... uh, what... uh what's the matter with that? I mean, I know I talk about him a lot, but he's about the most interesting person I know--besides you, of course. And I don't start every conversation talking about him. I mean... I mean I don't think I do... I mean..." "Just cool off, man. I didn't mean anything by it. I'd like to be hang gliding right now. Hang gliding through a thunderstorm! Or no--above a thunderstorm, yeah man, that's it." "Kind of a non-sequitor there, eh?" "Yeah, okay. I criticize a type of statement you make and now you have to criticize what I have to say?" "Why are we fighting? I don't see any need to fight. It's just... there's a certain tension in the air... like a big change is looming.. Why is that? Why?" "The Talking Heads. Now there's a band. They kinda sucked, but they had some really good stuff too. But they took themselves too seriously. So they had their fifteen hours of fame, what do they want, their own godhead?" "What? Godhead? What the hell's that supposed to mean?" "It's just an expression man. Oh, I played this shitty Playstation game, called 'Doc Pourri', about a potpourri superhero or something. It looked cool on the cover, like some hippie dude, but it really sucked. There was an opening FMV with a CGI Washington Square Park that was pretty cool, but it was like this 2-D side-scrolling platformer with 3-D elements, and... and... and I don't know. It really sucked." "Uh-huh..." "Look man! We're cracking up! We gotta get some direction! We gotta build our dark ride thing! Come on, you know you wanna do it!" "I know, but we don't have a pot to piss in, and this thing could cost maybe a billion dollars to build! I mean... we could try and find investors, venture capitalists, and... I mean, I don't give a shit if we make any money off it, I mean, I don't know if you care..." "I don't care." "Y'know? I mean, just like my Moisutre Detection Friend, with that strip mall and the underground entertainment complex? He didn't give a shit about the money, he was just thrilled that they actually built it." "Yeah, I know what you mean." "And I know, y'know, I know I have no life, but I've been trying to come up with a name for this thing, and I've been spending a lot of time on it, and I came up with a pretty cool idea for a name." "What is it?" "'Pacer and Carne's Darkider," Carne said. "I took the term 'dark ride' and got rid of the space, and then I moved the 'r' three spaces over. I don't know, but I think it's a pretty good name." * * * "Pacer," Carne said. "Why are we at this yacht dock, and what is this secret you keep talking about? We have to go and talk to my Moisture Detection Friend about the Darkider later, y'know?" "Okay man," Pacer said. "You see that yacht coming in to dock? I got us a meeting with Jay Pime, the billionaire! One of my sister's friends knows him or something. This may be the break we've been looking for to fund the Darkider." "Well, alright. I guess there's no harm in it, though I'm not too hopeful anything will come of this. Is that him up there?" "No, man. That's the driver. The boat driver. Jay should be coming soon. Um... oh, there he is now." "Um, okay." "Hey! Jay Pime! What's up!" "How how," Jay Pime said, "now's I meeting, Meadowlark Lemon and Peter Lemongello. How how, look just like Meadowlark Lemon and Peter Lemongello." "Um... no, um, I'm Carne and this is..." "Cool it, man! This dude's insane. Just go along with it!" "Okay, okay." "Okay, how, got my hair cut at The Lemon Tree," Jay Pime said. "Hey man. Let me shake your hand, dude. Cool. Carne, shake the man's hand, man." "Uh, pleased to meet you." "Ahvell said you boys, Meadowlark Lemon and Peter Lemongello, how, said you had a business propo, propo, propo lemon!" "Uh, yes..." Carne said. "Ah, it deals with the essential nature of the dark ride, a kind of Twentieth Century..." "Look dude, we got this great idea and we need money from you to build it," Pacer said. "Yeah, how, how, got off like Bob Ray Lemon. Got off like Bob Ray Lemon. Got his hair cut at The Lemon Tree." "Well. Uh..." Carne said. "Look Jay, we got this great idea. It's called 'Carne and Pacer's The Lemon Darkider'!" "Parm and Pacer The Lemon Darkider! Parm and Pacer, Lemon Darkider!" "Um, it's Carne actually..." "Okay," Pacer said. "Yeah, so like, lemon, we need, um, lemon, we need like a billion to do The Lemon Darkider. Like, lemon, a billion dollars." "Lemon, how, how. A billion bucks? I got three of 'em. You can have one. You can have one. Lemon Darksider. Lemon Darksider." "Dark... Dark 'ider'," Carne said. "What does it matter?" Pacer said. "Eh? So Jay, shall we talk to some of your lemon people? Draw up some lemon lemon contracts?" "Lemon. Lemon. Lemon," Jay Pime said. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 26: CARNE'S MOISTURE DETECTION FRIEND CHAPTER 3 SR-276 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 31 sr31 26.3--Ijsane Etc -------------------------- ============================== A ski lodge. "Pacer," Carne said, "I just got a phone call. Apparently Jay Pime had been financing this guy who was working on a really wild science fiction movie. And somehow because he's financing us now, he cut the other guy off, right when they were starting to do post-production--all the special effects and stuff. And now the guy is totally screwed." "What was the, uh, what was the, what was the title of the movie?" Pacer said. "It sounded pretty cool. 'The Feriend Expandling'. I feel bad about this, I feel bad for the guy. I mean, it was his life's work. And what assurance do we have that Pime's not gonna do the same thing to us?" "Come on, isn't it obvious?" Pacer said. "The film guy didn't use the word 'lemon' in the title of the movie, so Jay lost interest." Carne shook his head. "Look Pacer, I'm telling you, I don't want to call Darkider 'The Lemon Darkider'. I just don't." "But we have to, man. We have to. Jay Pime is obsessed with the word 'lemon', so we have to call it 'The Lemon Darkider'. There's nothing we can do about it." "I don't know," Carne said. "Maybe we should just forget about it. I mean, we have all these ideas, and they all seem really excellent because they are just fantasies. Darkider is a really great idea, but if we give in on the name, then who knows what else we're going to have to give in on? I mean, is the whole thing, all the themes, going to have to relate to lemons? And are we going to have this stupid lemon-based thing half done when the nut Jay Pime gets distracted by someone else's idea? And the Darkider will be another one of those rusting skeletal buildings, and a lot of people--not just us two--will be totally disappointed and unemployed. I don't know." "Look. It all has to do with the contract. We have to get the nutty fucker bound by the contract, with no way out. He's a mental midget, Carne! He's got shit for brains!" "Yeah, but his lawyers and managers are probably pretty sane." "But he has the final word. My brother-in-law, the lawyer Clawe, he's on board man. Lemon Darkider Industries will be a corporation in a few weeks. The contract will be ironclad, man. What does your Moisture Detection Friend think about all this, anyway?" "Oh, he's totally into it. But he doesn't give a crap about anything. He surfs through life. If Darkider fails, it'll be another story for him to tell. He won't care at all." "And we will?" "That's the thing, Pacer. I really am starting to care about Darkider. I think it's the coolest thing ever. I want something like this to exist. But caring about things... I don't know... maybe it's more fun just to talk about things." "Ah, come on. We have to take responsibility at some point. We can't just keep drifting. I mean, I like that my life is getting some direction. Silly crap like strapping myself to the Toys'R'Us ceiling, I mean, it's cool and everything, but all these random experiences... they get tiresome, y'know? I want some direction in my life." "Yeah, okay." "Alright? So come on. This ski lodge has the coolest arcade ever. Let's just go and blow a few twenties of dollars on games. Come on man!" Pacer said. * * * A crummy little office. "Pacer," Carne said, "come on in. Come on in. You're not going to believe this, but your cousin Clawe just called." "Yeah?" Pacer said, sitting down in a messed-up office chair. "Yes indeed. And the news is unbelievable--he just got back from a meeting with Pime's people, and somehow, not only did we get our money, but they gave Clawe full oversight control!" "And what does that mean, exactly?" "It means, Pacer, that Lemon Darkider Industries now has one billion dollars in the bank. And the only person we have to answer to is your cousin!" "Uh-huh. So what does Pime get out of the deal?" "It's a sweetheart deal for us. All he wanted was for us to pay him back the billion dollars, plus a little interest, a minimum of 25 percent of our net profits per quarter." "And that's good?" Carne stood up. "Pacer, come on, wake up! We got it! We--our company--has a billion dollars in the bank. We have all the money we need to build Darkider! And we have full control!" Pacer shook his head slowly. "Wow... wow, Carne. I mean, I was just expecting this to be another fucked-up little episode, another of our failed ventures we can look back at and laugh at. I mean, where the hell do we begin, building something like this?" "First," Carne said, "we get a better office. Then, we start hiring people." "Yeah, man! A new office! It's gotta be awesome! It's gotta rule! Indoor waterfalls and rivers! Fake windows with cool animatronic shit behind them! Fiber optics!" Carne held up his hand and shook his head. "No, no, wait. I don't wanna start getting all irresponsible. I don't want to let this money ruin our sanity. We'll get a decent office, but none of the fancy stuff, yet. I mean, eventually, our offices will be inside of Darkider--I mean, that's my plan--so then we can have an office like that, with waterfalls and stuff." "Okay, man. Okay. Whatever." "But we do have one more issue to deal with today." "Yeah? What?" "Remember I told you about the guy who was making that movie? Well, he called me today. He's a really nice guy. His name is Nurship. He was very upset--Pime's people aren't returning his calls, and he can't find any alternate funding. He says the movie, 'Feriend Expandling', is a very personal work, and traditional movie studios wouldn't understand it." "So what does he want us to do about it?" "The thing is, Pacer, I told him that if we got the money, that we'd fund the completion of the film." "What?" "Ah, come on. All he needs is like 10 or 15 million dollars. And I figured it was good luck for us to offer it to him. And as it turned out, it was good luck, right?" "But Carne man, that's 15 million dollars less cool shit in Darkider!" "Now come on--we have a billion dollars! That's a thousand million dollars. Do you understand what I'm talking about? Say you had a thousand dollars, all in one dollar bills. Now, imagine that each dollar bill becomes a million dollar bill. That's what we're dealing with here." "Yeah--hey man, I just realized stuff. Now that I'm a billionaire, I can get hot chicks!" "Look, just don't get into that frame of mind, okay? You are not a billionaire. Or even a millionaire. It's the company's money. We'll draw a salary, but it's not going to be astronomical." "So what are you saying--that we have all this money but we can't spend it?" "Not on ourselves!" "This sucks," Pacer said. "And you wanna go and throw 15 million bucks at this Worship guy... it makes no sense." "The guy's name is Nurship. Just one name, Nurship. I read about him in some magazines awhile back, in fact." "So now we absolutely have to give him the money?" "Look Pacer, we're not just giving him the money--we're funding the post-production of the movie. That's all." "Great. And we're not gonna get any creative control at all?" "Come on Pacer, have some compassion. We were worried about Jay Pime having creative control over us--and now you want to have creative control over Nurship?" "All I'm saying is, okay, that I don't want to waste money on some piece of shit project. You know?" "Well, look. I'm going to be very busy with the new office and hiring the main designers. Why don't you go and see Nurship, see where he's at? Because I was thinking that, depending on the nature of 'The Feriend Expandling', we could incorporate it into Darkider. Also, I've been thinking that I really want to do something with film loops--you know--like in 'If You Had Wings' and the Mexico ride in Epcot? I really like the look and feel of actual film. You can ask him if he'd be interested in working on that for us, with various themes. Oh, and also see if he has any other projects or anything that might be appropriate for Darkider." "Alright. Whatever." "Come on Pacer--it could be cool having a guy like Nurship involved! I told you, I read about him in some magazines. If he's into it, he could really help the Darkider project." * * * Cool offices of I Rule Films. "Hey," Pacer said to the secretary, "I'm here to see Nurship." "What's your name?" "Pacer." "Pacer? Pacer..." "Look, it's just Pacer. Can you tell him I'm here?" "And where are you from?" "From? What do you mean?" "What company?" "Oh. Yeah, okay. I'm from Lemon Darkider Industries. I'm uh, y'know, gonna be your boss's boss. So I guess I'll be your boss too." The secretary raised an eyebrow, and made an expression as if to say 'so what?' "I'll tell him you're here," she said. Pacer walked around and looked at some of the posters and things on the walls. After about a minute, the secretary spoke. "You can go in now, Mr. Pacer." "In? He's not gonna come out to greet me? Who does this guy think he is?" Pacer started walking toward the door, but then Nurship came out. "Oh, hey!" Pacer said. "Hi," Nurship said, and he shook Pacer's hand. "Let's go in, shall we? Marsha, hold all calls while I'm in conference with Pacer here, okay?" She nodded. Pacer followed Nurship into his office. "Take a seat wherever you like," Nurship said. "Okay," Pacer said, and he sat on a couch. Nurship sat in a chair across from the couch, with a little coffee table between them. "You want anything to drink?" Nurship asked. "You got any Yoo-Hoo?" "Um--I think we might. Hold on," Nurship said, and then he took a tiny cell phone out of his pocket and punched in a number. "Uh, Amy? Hi. Listen, I have a very important guest, and I was wondering if you could rustle up a few Yoo-Hoos? And get me three americanos? With the lids. Yeah. Okay." "You got Yoo-Hoo here?" Pacer asked. "Um, I don't think so, but there's a convenience store right downstairs, so it's no problem." "Haha, you're above a convenience store. That's cool." "Yeah, it's pretty convenient, actually," Nurship said. "No, I mean like from Twin Peaks. You know, like the evil people, they lived above a convenience store. The midget and shit? You know." "I actually tried to watch that show a few times, but I just didn't get into it, to be honest," Nurship said. "It really was a good show. You should try to check it out again." "I'll consider doing that." "Cool." Nurship stroked his beard. "So," Nurship said. "I guess we have some things to discuss here..." "Okay, let me put it to you this way, Nurship--I know Carne was like he was gonna give you all the money, no questions asked or whatever, but we really have to get a few things straight, especially since we have to pay all the money back to Jay Pime, eventually." "He's not gonna miss it." "Hey, it's not my place to judge that," Pacer said. "It's in the contract, and there's nothing we can do about it." "I had a contract with Jay Pime, too. But he screwed me over, big time." "Look man," Pacer said, "I don't wanna judge or whatever, but this guy Pime, he's flipped his lid. He loves the word 'lemon'. I mean, I know it sounds gay, but you could haved called your movie 'The Feriend Lemon Expandling'. Then at least he would have still been interested in it." "Yeah well, Pacer, uh, if it came to that I think I'd just forego the whole project. It's just not worth it." "Hey man, no problem. I mean, the way things have worked out for you, you're gonna get to finish the movie your way and everything. But what me and Carne wanted to know, wanted to get into, is the idea of your involvement in Darkider, our project." "In what way?" "Well, I don't know how much you know about it, but--" "I read your proposal. Some kind of Disneyland in a box? I think I get the idea." "Well, more accurately it is a huge building which takes some inspiration from Disney stuff, but it's its own thing." Nurship nodded. "So," Pacer continued, "we were wondering if you'd be interested in doing film loops for Darkider. I don't know how familar you are with dark rides, but at Disney World there are several which use film loops, producing a very cool feeling." "So, uh, what--just any kind of random film footage over and over again?" "No! No, not that artistic shit. Like scenes. It has to fit in with the theme of whatever part of Darkider it's in." "Well, I'd be open to the possibility, but I'd need more detailed specifications." "Alright, alright, we can deal with that later. Another thing Carne was wondering about was whether 'Feriend Expandling' is the kind of movie that could be the basis for a themed area in Darkider." "Um... you know, 'Feriend' is a very personal film. It's very dark. I don't think it would be at all appropriate for the kind of park you're creating. But I do..." "Yeah?" "No, it's just, there was a movie I did in Canada, back in the eighties. It had more of that comic book feel, that Disney kind of sensibility." "So, uh..." "Yeah," Nurship said, getting up. "It was called 'Cup's Club'. It was kind of low budget, and it wasn't marketed right. But I'm still very proud of it..." Nurship took a binder out of a bookshelf and set it on the coffee table in from of Pacer. Then, a woman came in with a tray full of Yoo-Hoos, white cardboard coffee cups with lids, and glasses full of ice. "Hey Amy," Nurship said. "You can just put 'em down right here." Amy put the tray down on the coffee table, and Pacer picked up the binder. "It's actually very cool timing, the coffee coming right now. Okay, thanks Amy," Nurship said. Amy left. "It's appropriate, because 'Cup's Club' is about a quest to get a very powerful cup of coffee. An artifact of vast importance." "Like a modern retelling of the Arthurian legend?" Pacer said, opening up the binder. "Well, believe it or not, I really didn't have that in mind when I wrote the script. A lot of people ask me that same question. But beside the 'MacGuffin' being a cup, I don't think there's much similarity." "Uh-huh." "So check out those production notes. It should give you some idea. I have a copy of the movie at home on VHS, but I'd have to dub you a copy, if you're interested. It's been out of print for years." Pacer nodded, and poured some Yoo-Hoo into a glass full of ice, not looking at all sure if it was the best way to drink the beverage, but he went ahead and did it anyway. Then, Nurship's beeper went off. He looked down at it. "Uh, Pacer, if you want to read that now, uh, I have to go take care of one thing--it should only take a minute. So if you don't mind..." "Nah, go right ahead. Let me check this out a little." * * * ***CUP'S CLUB*** An Original Motion Picture Production Notes by Nurship [1] COABLER THE SAWMAN (pronounced co-AB-ler) A god from an ancient woodland society, Coabler was shocked to learn of a pantheon of gods vastly more powerful than his, who sent him on his quest for the Cup of Coffee. Coabler had been a god of woodsmen for several millennia before he made a terrifying discovery, which only a few of his fellow gods knew about--that a pantheon of deities existed which were immensely more powerful than his pantheon. Coabler discussed the matter with his fellows and found he was the only one brave enough to journey to their realm and seek audience with them. When Coabler arrived, he was finally, after a long period of time, granted an audience with one of the supergods, who said that he must complete a little quest before he would even be considered worthy of conversing with. The quest was to get the Cup of Coffee and bring it back to the supergods. Stunned by the affront, Coabler set forth, and wandered through many worlds until finally encountering Kesh the Vector and Tickle the Monster, with whom he formed a pact, calling it "Cup's Club". APPEARANCE: Coabler has long blond hair done in braids. He has a full beard, but no mustache. He wears a medieval suit, which is blue with light grey highlights. On his waist are holsters holding two saws, one a bow saw and one a hand saw. He is a god, and should have a godly look about him. [2] CLASSIC OF LOGIC A being created by an insane female mathematician through pure logic and fantasy, causing her "mother" to lose all sanity. In the asylum, Classic's mother derived through pure logic the need for the Cup of Coffee to restore her sanity. Classic's mother was an overweight Dr. Who fan sort of girl in college who wore a lot of buttons with nerdy phrases on them, and often found herself immersed in D&D fantasy worlds, Alice in Wonderland, Star Trek, etc. She majored in mathematics, became an expert, and got a good job after getting her Master's degree. Dealing in matters of mathematics, she found herself more and more deeply involved in esoteric and unfathomable areas of logic. Still heavy and awkward, her social life was disastrous, and she dreamed of marriage and having a child. As she got more and more tangled in her discoveries of logic, she began to see the way clear of creating a daughter for herself using pure logic, and indeed she succeeded eventually, losing what was left of her sanity in the process. The being she created was a pretty little girl about six or seven years old, whom she named Classic of Logic. Soon thereafter, the mother was institutionalized and Classic was sent to live with a foster family, albeit only for a few months. The first time Classic visited her mother in the institution, the mathematician eagerly showed her page after page of scrawled notes and formulas, resulting in the ultimate conclusion--the Cup of Coffee would return her to sanity. Without hesitation, Classic set forth, using her natural logic-warping abilities to seek the Cup, resulting in her wandering numerous alternate dimensions before meeting Demolish All about ten years later in a strange reality. Demolish All was also seeking the Cup of Coffee. They travelled together for awhile before meeting Coabler, Kesh, and Tickle, who had already formed Cup's Club, which the two young women then joined. APPEARANCE: Classic is a pretty girl with short dark blond hair wearing a costume of red, black, pink, and white. It's sort of like a formal suit with a jacket and a lot of lace, red and black checkerboards, a few chess piece symbols, and the like. Keep in mind her appearance is a conglomeration of Alice in Wonderland images, Doctor Who characters, Star Trek aliens, and the like, all mixed together in the feverish mind of her mother. [3] KESH THE VECTOR A tile stepped upon by an unknown figure which became sentient and extremely powerful, he knows that the Cup will reveal the identity of the individual who stepped on him and thereby made him what he is today. Kesh gained consciousness and power little by little, over the course of several decades. Slowly, he loosed himself from the grout and began to move around using the vectors he could project from himself. In time, he conceived to collect a variety of materials and construct himself a human-like form, which he then did. Over the decades of his gradual awakening, Kesh became more and more aware that someone had stepped upon him with bare feet, and that this is what brought him to life. He could remember feeling it happen. On a table near him, Kesh remembers the Cup of Coffee sitting there for several years during his awakening. He feels that the Cup must have somehow recorded the identity of his unknown "sparker". Using his vectors to cross over into different worlds, he eventually came upon Tickle the Monster, on whose shirt was a picture of a giraffe with the Cup of Coffee on its back. He questioned the beast and found he was inexplicably looking for the same artifact as Kesh. Soon thereafter, the two met Coabler the Sawman and formed Cup's Club. APPEARANCE: Kesh is really just a small tile, four or five inches square. He uses his vectors to create a humanoid body for himself out of clothing and other matter. He favors green in his choice of materials. His general appearance in full form is like a tattered phantom, with a cloaked head, and the tile where the face should be. As well, all about him is a sort of halo of thin black straight lines, "vectors", holding him all together. [4] PATTERN INTEGRITY A hi-tech Dramptican soldier, got the cup from a museum during a siege on an enemy city. When she used her scanning device on it, it made her state the same as the state of the Cup--a pattern integrity. The Cup vanished, and now Pattern Integrity exists as a pattern within reality, meaning she can recreate herself as she was when she scanned the Cup at any time and at any location. Also, she can fly. She wants to get the Cup to allow her to continue on with her life, as she's always physically brought back to her exact state when she scanned the Cup. After her transformation, she used her newfound powers to fight the enemy, and greatly shortened the length of the war. Lucky for her, she was carrying a Massive Assault Weapon (MAW) at the time of the scan, featuring automatic high-caliber bullets, grenade launcher, and a number of energy blasts. As well, the MAW contains first aid supplies, food, telescope/video recorder/target finder, and more. Matter from a pattern integrity dissipates hours to days after being separated from the core pattern. But bullets, grenades, and such do their job in seconds. When Pattern Integrity reforms herself, her MAW returns to its basic state, ie, almost fully loaded. After the war, Pattern became more and more unhappy with her state--she could only go at most a week or so without reforming, never able to escape that physical state she was in when she scanned the Cup. So she decided to seek out the Cup, attempting to reform herself in its vicinity. Doing this, she did wind up in another universe, but found on subsequent attempts she was unable to get back home. Eventually she wound up on a world where there was a huge media uproar about the Cup, and she and Bith the Silly Train showed up at the same press conference, where something was to be announced about the Cup. The press conference was raided by Cup's Club. After a lot of tumult, the Cup was found to be false. Bith and Pattern then joined Cup's Club, becoming the sixth and seventh members. APPEARANCE: Pattern Integrity wears the uniform of the Dramptican army in a futuristic time. The color scheme is royal blue and light brown. She has a cybernetic implant on her left eye with a scope coming out on the side, going over the eye. Her MAW (Massive Assault Weapon) is a huge rifle with numerous things going on. She has wavy brown hair and is, as all female comic book-type characters are, attractive. [5] BITH THE SILLY TRAIN A silly train from a silly world who was transformed into a humanoid form by a silly wizard, encountered the Cup while wandering the corridors of a Dark Lord's castle. In Bith's silly world, Dark Lords would threaten to destroy the world on a somewhat regular basis, but they were always defeated without much trouble. This time, Bith was turned humanoid via a spell cast by a wizard friend of his, so he could help infiltrate the Dark Lord's castle and defeat the villain. This time things were terribly wrong, however, and the Dark Lord won. The world was coming to an end, and Bith wandered the halls of the castle, looking for his friends. He found the Cup of Coffee, and took it with him. Soon he was in unfamiliar surroundings--he had moved "cupward" and was lost from his world, with no way of getting back. He lost the Cup of Coffee soon thereafter. He wants the Cup back to try and get back to his world, if indeed there is anything left to go back to. Wandering through numerous worlds after losing the Cup, Bith finally sat down in a park on a world similar to our Earth. Almost imperviously cheerful, Bith was getting worried--everything always worked out for him and his friends on his world. A girl nearby had a little portable TV, and on it he saw a report about a lot of commotion somewhere, and he saw an artist's rendition of the Cup of Coffee. Over the next few days, Bith hung around the park trying to figure out the whole story, and finally heard news of a press conference not far from the park with some big announcement. He got there, and soon the press conference was stormed by Cup's Club, who seized the Cup, but found it false. The Club noticed Bith and Pattern Integrity, and took them away to question them. Soon thereafter, Bith and Pattern joined up. APPEARANCE: Bith is now a human being, albeit an oddly-shaped one. His skin is light blue, he stands around eight feet tall, and he's massively built. His armor/clothing has elements of a train engine on it. His collar is like a smokestack with the front missing, he wears a conductor's hat with BITH on it, the triangular grate is a sort of belt/shorts. His clothes are the primary colors red, blue, and yellow. His face is cheerful, but signs of deep worry and confusion are apparent, as his idyllic, carefree lifestyle has been turned upside down. Wheels on elbows and knees, and pistons up arms and legs on armor is possible, depending on how it looks. On his chest is the logo of the silly rail line he was part of. [6] DEMOLISH ALL A violent and childish maniac who seems a dastardly version of Little Bo Peep, her good friend had a collection of Cups, and needed but one more to complete his collection. He promised Demolish great secrets of mass destruction if she could bring him the Cup of Coffee. Demolish All lived in a weird reality much closer to the Primal World than most. Things are simpler and individuals are more distinctive. Demolish All is her true name, and it is her desire and calling in life to destroy as much stuff as possible. Her main weapon is a crowbar staff with a curved end (shaped like a shepherd staff). With it, she can project destructive force and demolish anything the staff is pointed at. As well, destructive force is a tonic to her, and the more injurious force inflicted upon her, the better she feels. Setting off to find the Cup of Coffee, she found dead end after dead end, until she tried something which had never occurred to her before: to destroy the actual fabric of reality. She did this, and when she stepped through the rip, she found herself in a sort of inbetween world from where she could travel to numerous other worlds. In a very weird world she met up with Classic of Logic, and they travelled together for a time eradicating huge portions of reality when they used their powers in tandem. Eventually, they came upon Coabler, Kesh, and Tickle, and they joined up with Cup's Club. APPEARANCE: Demolish All is a young woman with long, black, unkempt hair, and holding a black crowbar in the shape of a shepherd's staff, with a bow on it near the top made of barbed wire. She has a spiked bonnet and a torn black dress. Her arms are bare except for strips of red, orange, and yellow cloth wrapped around her forearms, from wrist to elbow. hanging at the ends. She is barefoot. [7] TICKLE THE MONSTER An odd primitive beast, Tickle was a member of a tribe of barbaric apelike creatures. Each had a clan symbol which its members wore on their leather breastplates, and in order to become an adult, they had to witness the scene depicted in their symbol in real life. Some were simple (a woolly mammoth drinking from a lake, a condor fighting with a cheetah, etc.). Tickle's was a giraffe, which didn't seem so bad, except there was a little Cup of Coffee on its back. Another odd thing about Tickle was that he had a weird thing his fellows paid little heed to: a walky-talkie/cellular phone sort of thing which he used to talk to "funny people". The time had come for him to seek adulthood, and though giraffes were in abundance, Cups of Coffee were nowhere to be found. The "funny people" guided Tickle across the plains and beyond, until he finally realized that he was no longer on his own world any more. He eventually wound up in a desolate area, and messages from the "funny people" were sporadic and difficult to understand. A thunderstorm of unearthly proportion was soon upon Tickle, and he was beside himself in fear and panic, unable to find shelter. In a fit, he began to spin around and soon bumped into an odd cloaked figure, Kesh the Vector, who led him to the safety of a shelter and questioned him. Finding the beast to be seeking the same artifact as he, Kesh decided to travel with the monster. After the thunderstorm, the two wandered for a long time trying desperately to find an inhabited area, until finally they came upon Coabler the Sawman. After the three realized they were all looking for the same thing, they formed Cup's Club. APPEARANCE: Tickle is short and apelike in appearance, with orange skin and blue hair. The hair on his head is long and mane-like. He wears primitive leather clothing and big, white fur boots. On his leather breastplate is a depiction of a giraffe with the Cup of Coffee on its back. On his belt, Tickle has a short sword and a large walky-talkie thing. His face looks kindly, innocent, intelligent, and curious. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 26: CARNE'S MOISTURE DETECTION FRIEND CHAPTER 4 SR-277 ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 36 sr36 26.4--Ijsane 2 -------------------------- ============================== Pacer put the binder down just as Nurship came back into the office. "So, what did you think?" Nurship asked as he picked up one of his americano coffees. "Um, was this Cup's Club movie like actually made?" Pacer said. "Absolutely," Nurship said, as he sat and removed the plastic lid from the cup. "It was admittedly low-budget--it had a stylistic edge borne of necessity--but I'm pretty happy with the result. It was that kind of raw, primitive cinema that can be most enjoyable if one sets aside Hollywood expectations." "Huh. I'd like to see it sometime. The characters sound pretty cool--did you ever make any action figures?" "I wish. But no, it never reached that level." "These days, man, they make action figures for everything. It's not like the eighties. You should really look into it." "Well Pacer, perhaps that is something that could come of my involvement with your project." "Yeah, maybe. Yeah. Like, we need characters or something, like Mickey Mouse or Magilla Gorilla like other theme parks have. Maybe we could have people in Cup's Club costumes at Darkider and stuff." "Wouldn't that violate the 'pure location' philosophy I read in your proposal for The Lemon Darkider?" "I don't know. I mean, we gotta be flexible. Carne can be like that. You know, uh, doctrinaire. But I figure we got to get people into it. And, uh, merchandise. That will make a lot of money, too." "Well, I'm all for exploring this association. I'm not naive. I know this project of yours will generate huge publicity, whether or not it's ultimately successful. I have a lot to say, cinematically, but I know I'm not going have the opportunity to make many movies unless I get some buzz going. Hopefully this whole drama in my life--first getting funded by Jay Pime, then getting dropped, then being saved by you Darkider guys--it's a great story. And it should help with the buzz." "Cool." "In fact, I have some story treatments I've been working on. Maybe you'd like to take a look at them. I kind of thought of them as 'mini-movies'--maybe string some of them together to make one big movie. But maybe with your theme park, we could do something new, like build a whole theater around the movies or something." "Yeah!" Pacer said. "Like the Muppet movie in Disney-MGM, or 'Honey I Shrunk the Audience'!" "I'll take your word for it. I haven't been to a Disney park since I was a kid in California." "Yeah." "So anyway, check out these two story treatments--they're here, in the back of the binder..." * * * ***YEARS OF BEATHCAT*** Story Treatment by Nurship I see them there, by that castle wall. A woman, Natthalie Hove Mound, and a big cat, Beathcat. Pronounce it like beth cat. And natalie huv mound. Natthalie is blond. She looks happy but tired. And Beathcat, he's deep blue. And he's got some white markings here and there, stripes and spirals and spots. They spent many years together at castle. It may not be what you expect. You wanna call them superheroes, go right ahead. That's only a small part of it, though. Natthalie had this great childhood. Her world was resplendent, she was right there in the biggest renaissance ever. Wow, it might have been the best childhood anywhere, anytime, in the whole universe. But within all the wonderful celebrating, trouble was brewing. Big trouble. Natthalie was like sixteen, and she was beautiful and super popular. Some dissonance there, between the innocence of the times, and all the sexual stuff being directed at her, though in a subtle way. I guess it was that her people had become too dependent on a certain energy source, and when it fizzled out, they were toally screwed. Totally. It was like, almost overnight, everything fell apart. Natthalie was horrified, there she was, just at the apex of her flowering, and the rug was pulled out from under her. But she thought she'd be okay, with her rich family, that somehow she was above the disaster, that she'd be able to get by without too much inconvenience. But the ruin was too total. Her lifestyle fell by many quantum leaps. She was wrecked. We're talking fantastic opulence one day, and a few months later, utter despair, barely surviving. Okay, this energy source, which had been in use for nearly a century, scared off Beathcat and his kind. Yeah, he's that old. Hundreds of years old. His kind is effectively immortal. "You must never crack sinkhole mathnota,", Natt always heard smart people say. Sinkhole mathnota, "math" for short, was the energy source. Looking like light purple abstract sculpture, the mathnota were bulbous and twisty, hard but light. They were discovered in a sinkhole, in some hills, and the oldest people Natt knew as a kid were kids themselves when the mathnota were found. The mathnota were strong, but they were not invulnerable, and one was damaged once, early after their discovery, and the result were very strange. Warpings of reality, and disappearances. The immediate area of the disaster was still affected at the time of Natt's childhood, though not nearly as strongly as it was initially. The reality warp was such that mathematics were different in the affected area. Square roots were much lower than they should have been, some subtractions acted like addition, but only with certain numbers. And those who were near the epicenter of the disaster, but not near enough to vanish, were changed. Their bodies and minds were altered drastically. But a day after the event, the effect had subsided enormously, and presence in the area only resulted in temporary "mathness", a mild kind of madness. And as the years passed, the effect diminished, along with the extent of the math differences, but it never went away totally. Natt knew about the cats, great beasts, very rare. But everyone had their encounters, before the sinkhole mathnota were discovered. After that day, not even a single encounter with a cat was reported. Natt read all she could about the cats, and interrogated the elderly for personal accounts of encounters with cats, which were sketchy and vague but still stoked the fires of interest in the cats within her. She wanted to meet a cat. Two month's after Natt's sixteenth birthday, it was the day that Natt was expecting to lose her virginity. She'd been intimate with her boyfriend Jalder, but he was reluctant to go all the way. That night, however, he had promised her they would do it. At noon, she was musing on the evening, when there came a quietness. By early evening, the news was all over the place--the sinkhole mathnota had all stopped working. They had been tapped by scientists to produce energy, but now the seemingly endless streams of energy were no more. Scholars had predicted a slow decay in the mathnota, as in the slow waning of the aftermath of the damaged mathnota. But this had never happened; the mathnota pumped out energy relentlessly. Until that day. In the confusion and despair, there was no way the planned tryst was going to occur. And that night she spent with her family, in candlelight, the whole big family gathered around, making plans, chucking around theories, generally fretting. Three months later, Natt was walking the hills. She still had her virginity, and was still numb at the loss of her high lifestyle. It was a drizzly day, and it was nearing dusk, and she knew she had to head for home soon, but she kept on walking. Soon, she came upon a sinkhole--she had to assume it was a sinkhole--with a mathnota partially revealed, sticking out of the mud. An irrational rage came over Natt. The mathnota represented to her the force that took her life away from her. She grabbed a big rock, and threw it at the mathnota. The rock struck a bulbous part of the purple thing, and in a reddish flash, and a sound like slow thunder, the world around her changed. She was transported somehow to an abandoned castle. She explored, and several hours later she encountered Beathcat. They were both trapped there, and they spent eight years there, and the tale of their relationship is a wonderful tale. That eighth year, Natt and Beathcat found their way out. It wasn't that they were trapped on the castle grounds--but the entire world they were on, as far as she or Beathcat knew, was not inhabited by any other intelligent creatures. The castle was an anomoly, and it had abundant stores of food and supplies. Beathcat can been there since the sinkhole mathnotas were first discovered. He was alone for almost 75 years, but he said he slept most of that time and didn't mind the solitude at all, that being the preferred lifestyle of his kind. But for a few years before the arrival of Natt, he said he starting itching a little for some company. Anyway, they found a way out of their private world, and they took it. A room in the castle went all weird was all. It had a street at night in it. Once on that street, they were in another world. And there were people. And it was raining. "This is new, Mound," Beathcat said. He always called Natt "Mound", her last name. "It is, Cat. It's a breath of fresh nighttime." Natt was wearing a pink dress, which she had found in the castle. Among the supplies there was a great amount of clothing. And while there was water in the castle, from a spring, washing clothes was a chore, and Natt preferred to pile up laundry that would never be done in a castle chamber and use up the supply of fresh clothes, which even at the time of their leaving the castle wasn't anywhere near being exhausted. There were streetlights and cars, and storefronts with glass windows and neon signs. These sights were new to Natt and Beathcat. And they liked the sights. A few drunk teenagers were approaching, and one of them, a boy, spotted Beathcat and pointed. "No way!" a girl in the group shouted. "Circus is in town!" Natt's heart leapt. She hadn't been in the presence of another human being for eight years, and the sight of these kids was a shock to her. She wanted to run to them and embrace them, but she didn't dare, both because of the potential danger and hurting Beathcat's feelings. The platonic love she and Beathcat shared was passionate, and she had feared the time, if it ever came, when she might meet a man, a human man, and start a relationship. And she knew it would hurt Beathcat greatly. She even spoke to Beathcat about it on occasion, in a jesting way, but the security of their castaway state seemed so certain. But now, they were no longer stranded together. * * * ***THE SOLVENT IJSANE*** Story Treatment by Nurship The top of a skyscraper. People live and work there. There are a number of Screws, of great power. When a very powerful microphone is placed by the Screws, sounds can be heard. The Screws respond to various colors of light. Violet/indigo light produces a harmonious sound, other frequencies produce a discordant sound, especially red/orange. Each Screw is maintained by a single person. The Solvent Ijsane is a liquid which is the only means to destroy the Screws. The only supply of Solvent Ijsane is also in the place, and the place is called The Solvent Ijsane. The exact nature of the Ijsane Screws is not known. Each of the Ijsane Agents is autonomous... each maintains his or her own Screw. This arrangement is meant to prevent any one Agent from gaining the ultimate power of the Ijsane Screws. By analyzing the sound from the Screws, the Agents can determine whether or not all the Screws are at The Solvent Ijsane. The Agents seek to obtain all of the Screws. Once they have all the Screws, with the means to destroy them, the Agents will have a great power--a power, defining the nature of which is another of their goals. Combining two or more of the Screws, touching them to one another, produces more complex sounds. Every individual Screw is miked 24 hours a day, and recordings of the sounds they produce are stored in a central computer. The Screws came into existence after the death of Fox. The Agents know that the Screws are related to the death of Fox. Fox was the Primal Entity whose purpose was to end the universe. With Fox dead, the universe no longer had a definite end. The Screws therefore relate to the end of the universe, but the Agents are not sure how. There were four Original Ijsane Agents. Their quest took 150 years, and in that time they obtained five Screws, plus the Solvent. At 150 years in the future, the Agents transmitted information to the present, to themselves, as to the whereabouts of the five Screws and the Solvent, referring in the transmission that they, the agents, were about to meet their demise. At the present, a few weeks after the death of Fox, the transmission was received by an individual who, along with the original four associates, founded The Solvent Ijsane on the upper floors of a skyscraper. They then located the five Screws and the Solvent. Each New Ijsane Agent has a single Screw in his or her quarters. The Solvent is stored in a secure location in The Solvent Ijsane. The New Ijsane Agents seek to find the rest of the Screws, but they have no way of knowing how many more there are--only that they will know when they have all the Screws. And they hope to avoid the doom that befell the original them. * * * "What do you think?" Nurship asked. "Um," Pacer responded, "um, they're pretty good I guess. I like the Cup's Club the best, but I think the thing with the girl and the tiger kinda-thing could be pretty cool." "I initially wanted to make the whole thing the story of their life together at the castle, but I thought that'd be too... I don't know... it would depend on their relationship representing aspects of our lives and everything, and I just thought it would be better to have their relationship at the castle as just a small part of the movie, and then have them go on an adventure. It could also work as a TV series, I think." "Like Xena!" "Yeah, it might have some similar themes." The two were silent for a few moments. Nurship sipped his americano, and Pacer drank some Yoo-hoo. "Um," Pacer finally said, "I kinda, like, don't get this whole screw thing..." "Well, that idea is a little more sketchy and challenging. I still have to come up with the characters for it, but they'd definitely be of the superhero-slash-comic-book kind of milieu." "Yeah." "So anyway," Nurship said. "I don't know if you want to go over this now, but I really have to start to work with you on the specific mechanisms by which I Rule Films will be funded by your company." "Yeah, my cousin Clawe, he's our lawyer. Him and Carne are working on all the financial shit right now. You'd probably be better off talking to Clawe at this point." "But, ah, you are... satisfied... that funding 'Feriend' will be..." "Yeah, I'm cool with it. I mean, if you could give me a script to read, it'd be cool. But I think everything is cool." "And as far as my involvement with your main project goes--I'll be tied up in post-production for at least two months, maybe longer. But after that, we should definitely talk." "Yeah." It was silent for a few moments, again. Pacer looked distracted. "Uh, Pacer, are you okay? Is there something else you wanted to go over?" "Nah. It's just this whole planning thing. Like, knowing what I'm gonna be doing at, like, a given time. Y'know, like in the future? It's weird. I mean, I guess I'm like the head of this major corporation now or whatever, and it's, y'know, like a new thing for me. I don't know man. I'll get used to it." "Well, if you ever get too freaked out by things, you can come and hang out here. Things are always pretty fucked-up and wild around here," Nurship said. "Yeah man, cool," Pacer said. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 26: CARNE'S MOISTURE DETECTION FRIEND CUPLINE'S END ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 27: BEWTIOLB DAYS 3 Chapters--SR-278 thru SR-280 ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 27: BEWTIOLB DAYS CHAPTER 1 SR-278 ============================== SRbd001--"Is Tim Clancy There?" ============================== "I tell ya, even though we have all these powers, we're still lost and confused with our lives." Timothy Clancy was a guy of average height, hair a multitude of blonds, blacks, reds, browns. Maybe his nose was a little big, his teeth slightly bucked. But he was not foolish looking. He wore what looked like a business suit made out of brown leather. But there were many chains and large brass buttons. His gait was that of somebody urgent, though his manner was that of a fellow who need not fear a soul. He was nasty and abrasive, violent and uncaring. Sometimes. "Lost? That's only the beginning. When I was just a grounded vampire, I thought I was something special. The world had its boundaries, things were simple. It's only now, that such horizons exist, that we can even begin to see just how stupid we really are." Axel Avoid was tall, his hair kinky and oily. Pale flesh, with reserved, somewhat demonic features, typical fangs. A vampire, to be sure. He wore a dirty white undershirt and a pair of faded and ripped blue jeans. He had childlike qualities. Unlike Timothy, he couldn't shift his physical body to alternate worlds, only his astral form. This whole lifestyle was new to him. "Stupid may be too light a word. Try stupefied," Tim said. "I see what you mean." They walked through a strange area. There were dusty streets, huge buildings, tents, flying motorcycles, neon animals, reptilian soldiers. In short, a dizzying potpourri of cool and amazingly diverse stuff. It was a Reality Port, a place where Reality Travellers from all over would gather to meet, trade, organize, get their bearings, etc. It was also a place for those without latent ability to hire a "ride" to go somewhere. This Port was earthbased. That is, it accommodated to beings from all different variations of planet Earth. These beings were usually anthropomorphicentric (tending to either be or resemble human beings). The variations of Earth were fantastic. Axel and Tim continued on, half-jogging up a staircase in the middle of a busy street, going up very far with no visible means of support. "You really think there's anything to these rumors, Tim?" "Who cares? We'll find out soon enough." Tim had heard that there was a different kind of vampire Axel could be turned into. The problem was complex. Reality Travellers have the ability to alter their bodies as well as their environments. (Some say bodies are part of one's environment.) In any case, attempts were made to give Axel a human body, one that did not need fresh human blood and lack of sunlight to survive. Any attempt to change his body seemed doomed, however. When a new form was introduced, his powerful vampiric soul immediately infected the body with the vampire "virus", turning it vampiric in the matter of a few painful hours. They did manage to remove the susceptibility to sunlight through the use of an interesting procedure. And they also found a Reality where suitable artificial blood was sold. But nothing more could be done. "Tim, when does this fucking staircase end?" They went on climbing, now several hundred feet above ground level. "Soon. You know there's a law against internal dimension doors at this Port. But there's some loophole so that you can have one high in the air." Indeed, they were approaching a rectangle of darkness, looming larger as they got closer. They arrived; it was a plane the size of a door. When passing through it, as in any dimension door, one would be shifted to another place. Anyway, they went through. It led to a dark hallway. "This is where it is?" asked Axel. "Yeah, this is the Talpurkbrushhe Infoland, if I remember correctly." As they strode down the corridor, the sunlight from outside lit less and less, until they could barely see. But they got to a door, a real door, before the light totally ran out. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 27: BEWTIOLB DAYS CHAPTER 2 SR-279 ============================== SRbd002--"Dedlezon" ============================== On the door were large black block letters which read "INFO." Timothy opened it. Inside was a reception area, with an open partition where a receptionist should have been sitting, a low table with various magazines, some couches and fake plants. The light was an irritating incandescent, the sound a neutral muzak. They entered. "Hello?" Tim said. "Hello?" louder. Axel was reading a sheet of paper taped to the wall. "Is anybody here?" yelling. Axel turned towards Tim and started to say something. "Anybody fucking here? Hello?" "Tim, look, this note... they're on vacation or something." "Vacation? No way!" Tim went over and read the note. "'...and we won't be back for quite some time, so just feel free to ransack our office as we know you'll do anyway'. Those bastards." "Tim, look. This is a stupid idea anyway. I don't mind being a vampire." "Fuck that! If they want us to ransack the office, let's do it!" "That was just some kind of joke, I'm sure they don't want you to really..." But Tim was off. He kicked down a door leading to the office and went in. To his chagrin, however, there was a secretary sitting at a desk. "May I help you?" she asked. "Uh, yeah," Tim said, recovering his composure, "could you, uh, I mean, we need some... information." The secretary was quite attractive. Locks of jet black hair, a cute face with a button nose. "Information?" she said, "Well, it looks like you've come to the right place." An awkward silence. "Go ahead, ask her, Tim," the vampire said. "What would you like to know?" she asked. Clancy responded, "Um... well, y'know, we heard that there was some Reality where there was, you know, a variation on a vampire, called a dadle-something I think." "Dedlezon?" she said. "What?" asked Tim. "Dedlezon. Rhymes with 'cradle's on'." "Yeah, that's it." "That's what?" the vampire asked. "Well," the secretary started, "dedlezons are a close relative to the conventional vampire, but with a few major differences. For one, they primarily consume the life essences of trees, rather than human blood. Also they have different morphic forms and vulnerabilities." "Like what?" Axel asked. "Well, if you like, I can access the file right now." "Okay, why not." The secretary got up and walked over to a computer terminal on a desk covered with papers and junk. In a sweeping motion, she cleared off the computer, sending the papers flying all over the shiny black obsidian floor. She sat down, turned the screen on, and lithely pressed a few keys. Axel and Tim moved closer. Within a few moments, a full color title page appeared on the screen. It was what looked like a human male with pale skin and flowing green hair. A stylized logo said "Dedlezons, Mysterious Tree Vampires of Red Alley Earth." "Here it is," she said, "peruse it at your leisure." "Thank you," Tim said slowly. The girl got up, and Tim took her seat. She then turned towards Axel. "So, you're a vampire, huh?" "Yeah, I guess I am." As soon as he finished replying, the secretary punched him full force in the stomach. Axel wasn't phased in the least, however. He just looked at her. She looked up at him and said, "Yeah, I guess you are a vampire." "I guess I am. Excuse me." Axel moved over to view the screen, the secretary lingering behind them, starting to chew a piece of gum. "I looks to me," Tim said, "as if we've found something." "Here, let me help you," the secretary suddenly cut in, as she moved her hands towards the keyboard. Tim grabbed her arm with alarming speed, and said "No, that's okay. We can manage." Tim continued to keep a firm hold on her, but she just stared at him. Time seemed to be frozen. But the secretary then blew a bubble and let it pop. Tim let go and pushed her away. "What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you folks were on vacation," he said. "Who said I worked here?" "If you don't work here, then what are you doing here?" "I could ask you the same question." Tim and the girl continued to stare at each other, as Axel spoke up. "Look lady, why don't you just tell us who the hell you are." "I don't have to." "Fine, then just let us be." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 27: BEWTIOLB DAYS CHAPTER 3 SR-280 ============================== SRbd003--"Wreckingball Slunder" ============================== "Okay, I'll tell you. My name is Wreckingball Slunder." Tim shook his head. "So what? Who the hell cares? You probably don't have any powers and want to latch onto us. Good looking babes are a dime a dozen around here. If I want a steady lay as a sidekick I can just shanghai one from any Reality I choose. What, were you brought Portside as cheap labor? Who but a potato would do menial labor such as secretarial work?" "How dare you call me a potato," she was getting mad, "I have powers! I'm probably a million times more powerful than you are!" "Oh yeah? Prove it." "I will." "Go ahead." "I will if you don't shut up." "La La La, I'm not shutting up. Prove it." "I... I... Okay. I will." At this point the vampire cut in, "Look kids, go argue somewhere else, huh? I'm really interested in checking out this Dedlezon File. Come on, get up Tim." "Alright! No need to push.", Tim said, getting up, "I just want to see Wreck-Her-Balls over here prove that she's 'a million times' more powerful than me." Axel sat in front of the screen and started to view the information. Tim started walking towards Wreckingball, who in turn backed up and sat on a desk. "First of all, my name's Wreckingball, and second of all, if you want trouble, I can give you plenty of it." "Go ahead." "I will." Tim continued advancing. "What can you do?" he asked. "Lots of things." "Like what?" "Well, what can you do?" "I asked you first." "So? Who's setting the rules of this argument?" "I am. Now tell me your powers or I'll toss you out the window." "You wouldn't do that." "I wouldn't?" "There are no windows." "Then I'll throw you out the dimension door." "You wouldn't do that." "Oh, no?" "You wouldn't." "Try me." "Okay, go ahead, throw me out the dimension door." "I will." "Go ahead, I dare you." "You got it, sister." With that, Tim picked the girl up, threw her over his shoulder, and started to head for the door. The girl was kicking and screaming. Just then, Axel stopped him, however. "Hey. Hey, wait a minute, Tim, huh? Stop playing games. This dedlezon thing looks really cool. They have green hair and they eat trees. Um--copper is anathema to them, and they can turn into spiders and birds and everything, they can even affect gravity! Let's go there right now, okay? Whatta ya say, Tim?" "Okay, we'll go in a minute, right after I throw this girl out the dimension door." "Alright, but hurry up, willya?" -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 27: BEWTIOLB DAYS CUPLINE'S END ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 28: ACONCK DUST 2 Chapters--SR-281 thru SR-282 ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 28: ACONCK DUST CHAPTER 1 SR-281 ============================== 21 [31] Elftoba Feth: 57B, 57C Tagtail and Feth. Coltish of Overwhelm? 57B ============================== Partridge Tagtail sat in his car in a parking spot, preparing himself for the meeting with the old master guy, Elftoba Feth. It was a pleasant day, but with a touch of the sinister in the air. Lazily eyeing the numerous green building in the area, many of which contained shops, Partridge sighed as he exhaled the smoke of a cigar. He was a long way from home, and totally insecure about the mission. But he knew that he'd made his bed, and now he'd have to sleep in it. Polk Thewsike really is a crazy motherfucker, he thought. Maybe crazy enough to succeed in the wild frontier that was Aconck. Short and with a broad, almost deformed-looking face, Partridge wore a leather jacket and carried around a heavy club which looked like a copper clarinet, but was not playable. He looked down at the severely uneven burn on the cigar with disgust, and threw it onto the ground--it was just about finished anyway--starting to taste bad, as all cigars do at the end of their lives. Well, he thought, gotta go through with this. No way out. Can't fuck with Thewsike, he doesn't respect any authority--he's wild. Can't cross him, I'll wind up fucked. Don't wanna go in there. Don't wanna go... But soon he entered the monastery place. "How do you do Mr. Feth, uh, Master Elftoba, uh..." "Call me Elftoba. I'll call you Partridge Tagtail." "Fine." Feth was even shorter than Partridge, with a long blue beard, a blue metal scale skullcap, and a simple gray robe. He looked old, but his eyes were alive with a fire of awareness. "I'm not here to learn your ways. I'm here to oversee operations." "You're a fine little campfire, Partridge Tagtail. So how do you propose overseeing without learning?" "Look, uh, Elftoba, my organization is interested in results, not riddles. We're going to do this the easy way." "Yes we are. I see you are quite powerful. You travel around in different vestments of surroundings. You speak over great distances. You operate a puppet afar. You control many people. Yet this power comes from the group you belong to, not yourself. It is not true power. Here, we exercise true power, the power of the self. But it takes decades, not weeks, to gain this power." "Look Elftoba, I don't want to seem pompous, but I'm a whole lot more powerful than any individual here. Why spend a good chunk of your life in boring training, when you can gain so much more power in such a short time?" "You might as well answer that yourself, you know." "What--cuz I might lose it as fast as I gained it?" "Don't ask me." "Well, even if it's only for a short while--who cares? Why should I be so greedy to need to have power all my life?" "Power to do good is not the result of greed, but of virtue. One with a permanent power can give to others as long as he lives. One such as yourself, even if he is inclined to give, can only do so for a short period of time." "Well, that's a moot point. I don't know why I should care about giving to breathers anyway." "You call those unlike yourself 'breathers'? Pray, tell me the meaning of this." "Look, it's pretty obvious, isn't it? All they're good for is using up air. It's a little derogatory term we Aconckers use now and again." "And pretty breather women? Are they good for anything else than breathing?" "Well sure, but--" "--they're good at sucking and fucking?" "Mr. Elftoba, please..." "Mock modesty doesn't work here. Your blatant self-serving hypocrisy is unneeded here. You're a young man. I can see you're not gay. You like to fuck the girls, whatever state of interworld mobility they're in. Don't pretend that such talk offends you. You assume it would offend me because of my age and place. But wringing in the moonloom is here, for everyone." "So what're you trying to say--that we treat breathers as objects?" "What does it take for a breather to become a browser--or even a bridger?" "Well, um, I guess it just takes an existing bridger or browser to bring 'em on in. To become a browser, that is. Bridging is a bit more complicated. You have to learn that, and not everyone can." "You're not a bridger, Partridge Tagtail." "Well, it's true I'm a browser right now, technically, 'cause I can't build my own bridges, but in the Sixty-Four you don't have to build your own, you know." "So you depend on others. Look at your name, look at Tagtail. Does it not mean a parasite? A sycophant? Are you an allegory yourself?" "Look, the Tagtails are a very important family. It might be the same word, but it has different roots. And it's not a very popular word, anyway." "True, but isn't it ironic, Partridge Tagtail?" "So whattaya want me to do--join your convent here for the next half of my life so I can levitate bowls?" "No. I have no interest in you joining us. That would only happen if the breezes wanted it to happen. No, it's just that I'm selfish. I've seen whelps like you too many times, and your hollow bravado is most annoying. It puts knots in my stomach to hear you talk such. I know I'll be dealing with you, and I'll admit I'd like to force some wisdom on you so that you're tolerable." "You know, I can ask Polk to get someone else for this mission if you want." "No, you're a brat, but you have potential. I don't want to take my chances to get a hopeless brat." "Look--I realize you're a great master and all--but I'm the official representative of the Unreal Sixty-Four, and I demand a basic level of respect." "My boy, you already did. Had I not a pinch of respect for you, I'd have had you wait in the garden for a few hours and then sent you back with instructions for Thewsike to send a real man. No, you'll do." "And I'll need to learn some humility from you--the hard way." "My boy, not at all. I've hired a local prostitute for you--she's waiting in your quarters. Say nothing, but go now." "What is this--a little initiation test. I have to turn you down on the offer or I'm a bad boy?" Elftoba said nothing. * * * "Good morning. So I slept with her, go ahead and send me back." "My boy, it was not a test, but a lesson." "Was I supposed to feel empathy for the girl? Was I supposed to feel bad for exploiting her? Well I didn't. She chose her profession, and you hired her. I just did what came naturally. If you want to play ethics games, find someone else." "Partridge Tagtail, the lesson is that one must be a gracious host. I hope I have satisfied that requirement. And also, that wasn't a prostitute, but an illusion cooked up by me and a few of my best students. Pretty realistic, huh?" "You were watching me the whole time!?!" "My boy, we were doing everything." "What are you, a bunch of queers?" "Not at all. We made what was essentially a puppet of a girl. You're familiar with puppets. And we were not there. It was automatic, responding to your every whim." "But it was real, I felt it." "What you felt was a pile of blankets. Your mind is so supine we could hardly resist." "So you did succeed in humbling me. Or you'll probably say I humbled myself." "Friend, you read too much meaning into it. I needed to give you a succinct demonstration of our abilities. I also wanted to give you a gift as any gracious host is wont to do. You did enjoy it, didn't you?" "Yes. I did. Are you happy? Yes. I was sexloopy for a little while there." "That is all in yourself, all of it. The illusion is more of a mirror than a puppet." "Are you saying I fucked myself?" "Yes." "Why do you say it's a mirror and not a puppet when a minute ago you said it was a puppet." "It's a mirror puppet." "Jeez--you know, Polk told me to be careful with you guys, but if this doesn't beat all." "Hey friend, let's get down to business. You're all right." "Great." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 28: ACONCK DUST CHAPTER 2 SR-282 ============================== 18 [36] Kill God and Devil: 35C Fife talks to Delvibane about killing God and joining Overwhelm. 35C TAG, U-64, OA ============================== "Eh, have a seat, won't you?" Letevs Fife said to Edkay Delvibane, motioning towards a large, comfortable-looking chair. Delvibane then sat down. Fife continued, in a somewhat nervous tone. "Edkay, uh... I know this is all very new to you, but... eh, I think we have a very great problem, and, I think you can be of great help in... solving it." Ed cocked his head to the side and raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. Fife continued, "You see,... we are an organization which has some very... uh, idealistic goals. We want to see bridging and the whole of Aconck, eh, really benefit all the Earths it reaches--but in a more, eh, subtle way, you see? We don't want to shove anything down anybody's throat, nor do we want to water down existing cultures." "I see," Delvibane said. "Yes. Yes, you know, we feel that the other... uh, organizations existing in Aconck, eh, which might be considered serious competition for us, uh, do not really have the best interests of the roughly 55 trillion breathers--er, rather, y'know, normal people, living on current Aconck, uh, in mind. So these other groups, we feel are dangerous to the whole of Aconck. So we feel our organization is essential to the well-being of all these people." "I see," Delvibane said, "and I understand that, uh, your group is indeed important, but what is it you want me to do? Other than join, which I am going to do anyway." "Well," said Fife, "I may as well just say it. Now this is going to sound stupid, and I don't know whether you're a religious man or not, but please wait until I explain to come to a conclusion, okay?" "That's fair." Fife let out a long sigh, then began. "Okay. We are having a great deal of difficulty with, uh, with... God." "God?" "Yes, God." "THE God?" "Yes, uh... THE God... on THIS Earth. Apparently each Earth has its own set of deities, and not too many have caught on to bridging yet. But before we discuss anything else, must inform you as to the nature of God. First of all, he is extremely--even hugely--powerful. But he is not, by any definition of the word, either infinite, omnipotent, or omniscient. He is a being who, by luck or by intent, has latched onto the image that the main religion here worships, and either created the role, or through time assimilated the role. But he is a leech. Each and every worshipper powers him, and believe you me, he is a cruel, heartless, corrupt... GANGSTER, if you will. He's playing games with everybody. He's a real... uh, well, to put it plainly, he's a jerk." "Uhhh.... let me backtrack a second. You're referring to the Almighty God, supposed creator of the Universe, and Savior of mankind--and you're saying he's a jerk?" "Yes Edkay, but the term 'jerk' was a reserved one on my part--if you know what I mean." "Yeah... so what sort of trouble are you having with him?" "Ha ha. A better sort of question would be what problems aren't we having with him. Let me tell you. A few months after we established our central headquarters here, God began to make himself known to certain Overwhelm member, including me. He... expressed to us that we were 'invaders', 'heretics' and 'undesirables', and said in very explicit terms that we had to vacate immediately or face the consequences. Well..." "Did you try to reason with him?" "Yes! We tried so much it's not even funny! But he just won't listen to reason. He's totally deluded with himself. He has--and I don't mean this in a funny way--a 'God complex'. He considers himself so far above everything that he need not even listen to the concerns of less-powerful beings." "So what happened?" "Well, nothing at first. Then, about six months later, eh, he began to make things happen. He would cause all sorts of terrible weather around us, and make accidents happen, and give us nightmares, and things like that. We're all very, very pissed-off at God at this point. We've been putting up with his shit for the better part of a year now, and we've had just about enough." "So why don't you just leave?" "Eh, that's a good question, but there is a very good reason. As you might or might not know, there is a very... specific structure to Aconck. Now, the world of origination, Red Alley Earth, has the best, most key, most central location. But this Earth we are on now has the second best location. That is crucially important. And also, we feel that we'd face similar problems from Gods on other Earths as well." "So what are you going to do?" "Well I'm glad you asked. First, please realize that we've been over every option in the book--so the final conclusion we came up with is not a hasty or emotional one, but rather our only apparent alternative. We want to kill him." Edkay said nothing, the previous statement apparently taking by surprise. Soon though, he spoke. "You... you want to, uh, kill... God?" "Yeah, that is so." "Kill God." "Yes." "The Almighty God." "Yes." "Kill him." "Yes." Edkay looked around the room. Soon he said "How?" "Eh, well, that's where you come in, see--" "--me? You want me to kill God?" "Well now, don't jump to conclusions! See, we know that you may have the capacity to become extremely powerful--probably more powerful than God. We aren't totally sure, but we're pretty sure, judging from what we know. Now listen, I'm being very honest with you--if you join, we will ask you to help us in this... operation. Now, I give you warning beforehand since I don't want to put you in the position of having to make a decision between Overwhelm and your religious or moral obligations. So there it is." "Uh... well, I don't know if I can help you, but... well, y'know this is a pretty major thing." "I know. Oh, also we have to kill the Devil, and some of the more powerful angels and demons. As for some of the local pantheonic deities that still exist, we'll have to have some talks with them. Don't want anyone trying to take the Almighty's place." "Uh... heh, you want to kill the Devil too?" "Well, even though we haven't had much contact with the Devil, we feel we want him out of the picture, period. He did contact us, offering to help us, but he's obviously a real schnook. At least God is straightforward and honest--he hates our guts and he says so. The Devil is a liar and a cheater, and I'm sure he hates us just as much. And as for the angels and demons, they could replace their bosses, perhaps, so we kill them too." "And what of these local pantheonic guys?" "Well Edkay, these guys used to be pretty powerful, but they're really a bunch of dingbats now. We just don't want them getting any stupid ideas, y'know, of taking God's place. But I think after they see what we can do, they'll know their place." "But what of this world's religions?" "Ha! Are you kidding? God doesn't do squat for his followers--they pump their life's energy into him, and he eats it and consumes it and does nothing to help them. So they won't miss him. Not for a second." "So where will all that energy go?" "We want to, er, install a... being... uh, sympathetic to our cause as the new God, since we have no desire to disrupt the normal flow of religion. We want someone who'll be a little more understanding and helpful to his followers." "Like a puppet deity, so to speak?" "Yeah, yeah... that seems to describe it." "Who?" "Well, I don't know. Someone from off-Earth if possible, so they won't have a vested interest in this Earth per se. We have good relations with some deities on other Earths, so we feel we can find some replacement." "But ultimately they'll answer to you... er, US, right?" "Eh... that's about the size of it, Ed. Y'know... we don't want to be so heavy-handed, but we do need a safe haven to run our organization from. And if you only knew how much effort went into these headquarters!" "Well, uh, Letevs, I'll tell ya what. I'll join and you can tell me all about this plan of yours, and if I agree that it's the only way to go about things, I'll help you. Agreed?" Letevs moved forward and grasped Edkay's hand and shook it. "Agreed! Very reasonable on your part! Excellent! Excellent!" Ed looked around for a second and said "Hey, by the way, can God hear us now?" "Yes, he might be listening. He probably is. But believe me, he won't care. He's so high-and-mighty that he doesn't believe anything can touch him. You'll see, if you have the displeasure of talking to the lout. You'll see." "I think I will," Edkay said. "Oh and by the way, I see you and Coltish Mammock have taking a liking to one another." "Yup." "Well that's good. I was starting to worry about her--she didn't seem to get along with any of the boys too well, y'know? Maybe you'll be good for her." "I think she'll be good for me, too." "Fine. Then we'll talk about killing God later. For now, we'll celebrate your decision to join the Overwhelm!" "Okay!" Delvibane said. 5/2/99 Later, Edkay Delvibane and Coltish Mammock were riding together on the Greatwall Superway, an elevated train. "This is really great," Edkay said. "I mean, this whole thing. Me being drafted into Overwhelm, coming to this awesome world, everything. And meeting you--wow, I mean I've never, I don't know, CLICKED with a person like I did with you. I mean..." "Yeah," Coltish said. "I know. Things are happening so fast. Before I got into this thing, I was really not doing very good. My powers were all bound up. I felt like exploding. Like I was trapped in a cage. But once I got off my Earth, I just blossomed up, like a flower. And now... too much freedom to know what to do with. Kind of..." "So what do you think of Letevs and this plan of his, to, y'know--kill God. I know you guys have been having trouble with him and... it's just, if God is just some guy we can kill, what does that say about the mysteries of the universe?" "Well," Coltish said. "We're not talking about God in terms of the creator, the almighty, or anything like that. He has massive occult powers, we have more massive occult powers. He is like us. We are on his level. So look at us, and then look at him. We're using the word 'God', but we're not dealing with the ordinary idea of God. I don't know. I tried telling my brother that, but he just kept flipping out. But screw him, he's out there with Polk Thewsike and The Unreal Sixty-Four, so I guess, basically, that that makes him our enemy. I just hope we never come into direct conflict, because one of us will kill the other one. There's no way around it. We're both the same, we're both stubborn. Massively stubborn." "So tell me more about the other groups--what the heck happened to cause such a split?" "Come on Edkay, isn't it obvious? A bunch of guys disover this way of crossing over into other Earths, and after a few years, major personality problems pop up, and everything is fucked. There's just the three companies, as we call them, right now--but more splits are bound to happen." "Wow. Does this... I mean, this doesn't bode very well for the future of Aconck, does it?" "No at all. Edkay. Not at all. You know the guy, uh, who figured bridging out--you heard of him, right? Bavler Bestroystraw. He didn't really COME UP with the idea--he just found out about how they did it in the past. So this did happen once before. At least once. And from what we know, which isn't very much, that previous incarnation of Aconck--some folks call it 'Sweptim'--what we know is that it totally fell apart and blew everything to fucking hell. And it looks like that's where we're headed again, even though Bavler claims he identified and corrected the flaws that caused the Sweptim problem. But what the fuck does HE know?" "I mean--he must know a lot, to have rediscovered bridging." "Whatever, Edkay. But the big thing is, we're in the middle of this, and you and me have to figure out what the FUCK we're gonna do. Cuz FUCK Letevs Fife--I've known him for awhile now, and I know he's an asshole. Do you know that he did all these dangerous experiments right there on Red Alley Earth? The originating Earth? He messed up--totally ruined--this entire area, and a lot of innocent people were very much screwed because he blew a big hole in reality over there. That's what really caused the major revolt." "Wow," Edkay said. "I guess I have a lot to learn. But I want to get something straight here--are you saying that you want to revolt against Fife?" "Um... no... it's just, I just want you to be aware, and me to be aware, okay... that we have to keep an eye on this guy, and I'm just saying that there may come a time when we're going to have to worry about our own asses." "I see." "Well, I hope you see. Edkay, you're the only friend I have here. You have power, AND you have personality. I have feelings for you, and I think you have feelings for me. We just have to stay... we have to keep the channels of communcations open, buddy. Okay? We have to have our own little association, so we can take off when things go down into the toilet. Do you see what I'm saying?" "I see. But I want to tell you something. I'm scared that I am seriously considering becoming an assassin. I'm like, okay, no big deal, I'll kill this guy. He's evil, whatever. But how can I do this, how can I think this? How can I be so callous about killing?" "It's for a good cause, and he'll probably kill us if we don't kill him." "Coltish, Coltish--I know that. But the Greatcoat--it's something that has existed far longer than I have. It has a whole history, it has depth, it has all sorts of stuff going on. I have a very complex relationship with it. It has... I don't know what to call it... HONOR, valor, heroism, all that, in it. And no matter what you say, I don't necessarily believe that killing this Earth's God is a good cause. I just don't!" -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 28: ACONCK DUST CUPLINE'S END ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 29: CELLAR 77 x Chapters--SR-283 thru SR-2x2 ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 29: CELLAR 77 CHAPTER 1 SR-283 ============================== 28 [30] Pluckemin Hacksaw: 04B Hacksaw in traffic jam, trying to get back to Agoopish. 04B ============================== The traffic jam sizzled in the early afternoon scorch, and Pluckemin Hacksaw lit a cigarette. He sat in his car and surveyed the scene--cars everywhere--stopped. He cursed under his breath as he looked behind--only to see cars also into the distance that way. Pluckemin was on Interarea 90 heading west through Factamane toward the city of Metraseet in Isionab. He cursed again, this time out loud, and dialed his car phone. "Hello Supbam, this is Hacksaw. Get me the Caxopy Group. Thanks." He waited impatiently. "Hello? Could you put Elaine on please? Hello? Yes, could you put Elaine on please. Thank you." He tapped the steering wheel and honked his horn for no real reason. "Hello? What do you mean she's not there? She already left? Great. Look--see if you can get her on her cellular and then patch me directly through. Can do? Thanks." More waiting. "Elaine! Elaine! Yeah I know, I can hardly hear you either. Look. Look. I won't be able to meet you in Metraseet--I'm caught in the c*nt of a traffic jam. So look--I'm gonna abandon the car and get to the nearest town. What? How the hell should I know where I am? Huh? Wait, hold on--" With this, Pluckemin put the phone on the dashboard and got out of his car and walked back a few cars to a big tractor trailer. Everyone honked at him. He knocked on the truck's door. A gruff trucker looked down at him. "What the fuck's with you?" the trucker asked. "Look pal--you seem roadwise--can ya tell me what's the nearest town?" Pluckemin asked. "Find out when ya get there," the trucker said, laughing. Pluckemin didn't respond but had a pissed-off look on his face. He kept walking back until he got to another truck. "You look like the tail-end of a syrup caravan, pal," this trucker said. "I haven't the faintest notion what the hell you just said, but I'd deeply appreciate it if you could tell me the name of the next town on this road." "Well buddy, let's have a looksee at Mr. Map." Pluckemin smiled sarcastically. The trucker slowly and deliberately unfolded the map. "Look pal--I can see you have nothing better to do than relax and blow your horn--but I'm in a hurry so I'd appreciate if you'd stop stalling." The trucker got an old pair of glasses out of his glove compartment and put them on, squinting at the map. "Well," he finally said. "Well what?" "Well, the next town appears to be Tect, about a mile and a half up. Take about an hour, an hour and a half to get there at this rate." "Thanks pal," Pluckemin said. "Hey buddy--before you go let me give you a little advice--yesterday's twisting's tomorrow's wheat field." Pluckemin looked confused, nodded, smoothly went into shaking his head, and turn away, saying "you're a real fuckin' lunatic." So Pluckemin went back to his car, and picked up the phone. "Elaine? Elaine? Yeah. Look, can you meet me in Tect, Factamane as soon as possible? Where? I don't know where! At the... at the bus station or something. The train station? I don't know... alright if you say so. The train station it is. I'll be there in a few minutes. I'm gonna jog over. Huh? Oh, I'm gonna flatten it. Yeah okay. See ya soon." Then he got out, got a briefcase and a jacket and hat out, then opened the glove compartment, put the brief case back in, shoved the stuff from the glove compartment into the brief case, then put the open brief case on the roof of the car, went over to the trunk opened, it, got an umbrella out, closed the trunk. Then he rummaged around in the briefcase and got out what looked like a little paper coin. He closed the brief case, put on the jacket and hat on, grabbed the brief case and the umbrella. Then he bit into the little paper coin, spit out the bit he bit off, then threw the little object, a flattener chit, into the car. He backed away, and the car creaked and then flattened out onto the pavement, as if subjected to immense gravity. In a few seconds, the car was less than and inch thick. Then he jogged over to the side of the road, but hid hat fell off so he put it back on and held it in place, and ran along the side of the road, then he stopped, cursed, and put the hat in the brief case. He tried to fit the umbrella into the briefcase too, but it was too long. So he closed the briefcase, got up, and continued running at a brisk pace toward the town of Tect. As he was running along, a guy shouted from his car "Hey asshole!" -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 29: CELLAR 77 CHAPTER 2 SR-284 ============================== 38 [NEW] Minion Loves Bazy: Minion Van Hall and Bazy Diswarnin in Agoopish. MINION! 2/13/97 ============================== Bazy. Bazy, Bazy, Bazy. Goddess of Fire Extinguishing. Morning. Amidst the architectural masterwork/monstrosity of the top of the Supbam Hotel, all observation decks and penthouses and observatories and sculpture gardens, overlooking the semi-fathomable city of Agoopish... "Extinguishing. Just say it a few times and it sounds awful strange, right? Extinguishing. Extinguishing. Extinguishing. Extinguishing. Talk about reincarnation. If you keep coming back to life, maybe after awhile it makes no sense anymore," said Bazy Diswarnin. "Could be," Minion Van Hall said. "Firemen adore me. I mean, I know it sounds obvious, being Goddess of Fire Extinguishing and all. But I think they love me more because I represent something to them that they don't have." "Yeah?" "Yeah... so this is really neat, isn't it? I mean, you getting to know me, me getting to know you. You're very different, you know." "How so?" Bazy smiled. "I don't know. Just... just different... that's all. I like it." "And I like you." "Yeah?" "Yes I do." "But I want... look Minion, I'm very old. See me? I was just like this the day your great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandmother was born. And way before that. How should we do this? Think of me as your sister. I think that's good." "My sister?" "For now. For now, Minion. You have to give me a chance to get oriented. I have needs that no mortal woman has. I have been in this situation many times before. So help me out with this." "Bazy, I think you're the most beautiful woman I ever saw. That's the truth. But if you want us to be Platonic, I can totally be into that." Bazy put her hand on Minion's shoulder. "Thanks. Because I know... I know that if we sleep together you'll look at me differently, and we'll never get the kind of quality relationship that we'll have if we savor the sexual tension between us. I know it must sound stupid to you. As many things as we have in common, we are very different creatures, you and me." Minion nodded. Bazy smiled. "Will you write songs for me?" she asked. "What?" "Songs. You told me how much music means to you. I was wondering if you'll sing to me." "Of course I will." She smiled wider. * * * Night. On top of a giant statue of a gun, part of a giant statue of a monkey, the monkey holding the gun. The sides of the top of the gun had like walls. "So this is your secret place?" Minion asked. "Yup," Bazy answered. Minion nodded, and then Bazy started giggling. "What?" Minion asked. "No, just me saying 'yup'. Youthful, y'know? And yet my age compared to your youth." "Yeah," Minion said, looking down. "What's the matter, dear?" Minion looked up and at her. "It's just this... all this... I'm trying to deal with it, you know? And Tanner..." "What about Tanner?" "Tanner... I don't know... he thinks, or he has this theory... that Agoopish is not really that old, that it's maybe four or five-hundred years old, cuz none of you gods and stuff seem to be able to remember back farther than that." Bazy scrunched up her face and looked away. "Yeah well I don't know why your friend is so busy theorizing about the way WE are. He should worry more about his new life here." "I know Bazy, it's just... I don't know, could you maybe tell me if YOU can remember back, y'know, like farther than that?" She glared at him. "Of course I can." Minion smiled a tense smile. "See? So that's it. Forget it. I don't want to pry into matters that I have no place in." "But Minion, you DO have a place in them. It's just... oh, I don't know... people have been bringing this question up for ages and it's just the classic mindfuck. Along the lines of 'how do you know that the world is real, and not an illusion?' I mean, a question like that has its time and place, but after awhile you just get real tired of it, and the people asking it." "I'm sorry." "Don't be sorry! Look, I'll admit it, and it should be plain, that we at Supbam are sensitive about the subject of our memories. I mean, each of us just assumed that we are having a lapse, as is common with gods, but when these questions are brought up of, say ALL of us having the same lapse at the same time... it just gets too creepy. Because down that road, Minion, down that road is a place we wouldn't want to be, eh? We LIKE the way we are. And we don't want it to end." "Who's saying it's gonna end?" "You are! Tanner is! The... the implication here is that we don't know where we came from... but that somehow we're duped into thinking that everything is cool." Minion stood up and started pacing. "Bazy, I mean, just look where we are, where I am. This statue... it amazing. Okay? I mean, this is the best thing that ever happened to me, but... but I have to keep from really analyzing it or it's like... like I'm going nuts or something... sorry, I'm like rambling." "You really want to have me, don't you?" Minion stopped. "What?" "You really want to touch me." Minion narrowed his eyes. "I know what you're thinking," she continued. "You're wondering if I'm just teasing you. And maybe I am a little. I like observing. And I see your agitation... and I find it puzzlingly wonderful that you are more blown away by a woman than you are by Agoopish." "Look, I told you I'm cool with the platonic thing or whatever." "I know that. I'm just making an observation." "But observe this, okay? You're not just ANY woman, you're a GODDESS. So yeah, I'm all whacked from being in an alien place and everything, but I think it makes sense to be more zonked by..." The two were silent for awhile. "Minion," Bazy finally said, "I just want you to know that I am still trying to adjust to the situation here. It's all just happening too fast. I'm not saying that I'll eventually open myself up to you, only that if, and it is a distinct possibility, if I do, it'll be something that takes some time. And before you have to humiliate yourself by asking how long, let me tell you that we measure this thing in a scale of weeks instead of hours. Do you see?" "I see, but I don't feel." Bazy smiled. "Now THAT'S something that no guy god would have ever said to me!" -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 29: CELLAR 77 CUPLINE'S END ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 30: THE CARTERSASH STORY 1 Chapter--SR-xxx ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 30: THE CARTERSASH STORY CHAPTER 1 SR-xxx ============================== CARTERSASH 4/16/99 ============================== Cartersash leaned against the wall in the bus terminal smoking a cigar. A policeman spotted the cigar. "Hey pal, y'know, you should know you can't smoke in here." Cartersash didn't respod. "C'mon guy, gimme a break. Take it outside." Cartersash looked around, ignoring the cop in a taunting way. "Look friend," the cop said, walking closer, "be a nice guy, huh, and take it outside? I could write you a ticket right now but my daughter's getting married next week, and I want as little bad karma as possible." "Leave me alone," Cartersash said. The cop sighed and looked around. "Y'know, I don't need this. I'd like to leave you alone, but the thing is, you're flagrantly and unnessesarily breaking the law, so what would that make me if I left you alone?" Cartersash raised his eyebrows, making a "yeah whatever" kind of expression. The cop shook his head. "Goddammit," the cop said, and he turned and walked away a little and spoke into a walky-talkie. Soon, two other cops were there. A taller cop approached Cartersash. "Okay, you get one chance. Start walking now, out the door, or we're gonna have to arrest you," the taller cop said, nodding. "Come on, man," the original cop said, "We're just doing our job. What's the point?" "I'm doing my job, too," Cartersash said. "That's it," the taller cop said. "You're under arrest." The taller cop tried to grab Cartersash, but his hands went right through Cartersash. He tried a few more times, to no avail. "What the FUCK is going on?" the taller cop said. "Look Faulie," the original cop said, "let's just walk away? And pretend this never happened? This guy's some kind of magician, or a fucking ghost, or I don't know what. But I know we don't want to get into it." "No way," the third cop said. "We just call in more people, or... whoever, and let them take care of it." "Okay," the tall cop said, "you know, why don't you just put out the cigar, and whatever the fuck your trick is, is doesn't have to worry us anymore. What's your problem, man? "Faulie," the original cop said, "I can't--I don't even smell the cigar, the smoke. Do you smell it? Come on." "You know," Cartersash said, "maybe I will tell you what my problem is. I just encountered this new technology, dimension doors, kind of like teleportation. You go into one plane and come out of the other. Now they have it with size differentials, you walk through these doors and you can grow or shrink. It was a city that had descended into a decadent state. They used this technology to cavort with every kind of size difference. They wanted me to participate, my friends. They said it was harmless. I told them that such antics are a big step into the swamp that is cacophony and chaos, confusion and the darkness. A move into the numbness. I've worked with these people for a long time, I invested a lot of effort, a lot of emotional energy. But now, I see that I've been wasting my time. And I'm here because it's a commitment that I made, and I'm not happy about it, but I try and honor my commitments. So I don't want to be here, and I'm not really here, and I know you guys are just doing your jobs, but I'm angry. And I'm at least a little bit irrational. Hurting you is the kind of dark, evil thing that I have been trying to avoid for a long time. And I won't hurt you, any of you. But I'm mad. And I'm flippant. And I'm not gonna be told what to do, and there's absolutely nothing you can do to stop me, from smoking, from blowing up this building, which I'm not going to do, or anything. Don't escalate this situation. Walk away, forget it, it's a cool supernatural experience. But let's not escalate." The taller cop looked over at the original cop, then at the third cop. Then they all waked away. Carter held the cigar in one hand as he looked down and massaged his face with the other. In his hand he held a notebook, and started writing in a scrawl in brick red ink. THE CARTERSASH STORY 4/28/99 "I, Cartersash, am sitting here about to take a test. This story will be very long. I only perceive surface details these days. I have my own alphabet. "Maybe I'll add to this story from time to time. I took the test. I didn't pass. I'm in the same chair. As well as the same room. But a different universe. Something with cities. "I can't really think now. Some things are in my head. What are they? My brain-type thoughts. "Always the same but never the right clues. It may skid but it never stops. "Where are we? Now imagine a statue of a highly-revered marsupial floating in space. You are there. What do you see? This ain't a big meeting. Nor after a college classical music in the rain. This is what foolish is to forsossity. "The re-in-nostal-type city. Rain and Dockwhens. A nintlash man gleaming down the street. Realization in the young slont boy's mind. The Coulf returned. "I like to play confounders. I would like to play confounders. I imagine them playing confounders in the freeing-deal days. I imagine the feelings, the smells, the rushing of circulation. It's like a tantalizing wisp of smoke, laughing out of reach. "The story. This is my story. "Yoloscope. "One time it was really weird. Ocseeklings were the problem and gurfotine was the solution. I had a front row seat. And who was sitting next to me? Some overlord. His head slowly nodding, then stopping. Red and green of the cool of sleep, then. A game over. "And and and I went to the ocean. We found a dead miniscule occult entity on the beach. Did we put it in the trunk? I don't remember. I was young and I didn't realize the certain realities surrounding the fluctuating state of disempowered such-matter and the lucks and power thungs thereof. Old water. "The Andercindoe Building was the focal point in my dream. It was flying around like an airship and Uncle Ottashewne was using it to rule the world with great success. There was no beginning or end or middle, just a series of images and understandings with no resolutions. Do you get my meaning? "This is not a normal story. It doesn't tell you all the facts. Facts are cool, man. You have to draw your own conclusions. You have to get your own resolutions. "The ballad of The Dim Steamdudes. A kind of wailing in the night. Clanty Fomo's elf-referential pajamas. Where is he now? Prove his existence, if you can. For weirded services, eh?" Cartersash stopped writing and ran his hand through is hair. He looked up. The bus terminal was pretty empty, it was pretty late. Cartersash had gray hair and piercing eyes that looked tired... he looked kind of like a college professor, a little shabby, but with an air of importance. He stuck the notebook in his jacket pocket and walked to an area of the bus terminal with some stores and restaurants. A few young people were doing a little dance routine spontaneously... no music... something like, it must have come up in conversation and now they were demonstrating this kind of dancing... but what was the context? Was it something like, hey you should have seen the way those guys danced, here I'll show you... or... here is the dance routine we are working on for the show. Could have been any kind of context. "I have to write a story and I'm not real," Cartersash said to the dancers, in a loud and out-of-place tone, startling them and stopping their dance. "If you aren't real, you wouldn't be bothering us, buddy," said one of the dancers. Cartersash then ran at a sprint toward the group... and before they had time to react, went right through them. He skidded to a halt, turned around, and held up his hand. "Just playing," he said, breathing hard and staring at them. The dancers looked confused, looked at each other, a few made to walk away, but the guy who talked before talked again. "Freak out. You don't think you're gonna have Sleetgosm up your ass for this? Let's get out of here." And the group left. "Sleetgosm?" Cartersash said halfheartedly A few people seemed to have noticed the little event, but weren't showing much interest. Cartersash sighed and walked toward a shopping area, themed to look like an old time main street or something. He smirked and nodded his head. He'd seen it all before, the fake town street, real popular, even in other worlds. Lot of good stores here... some interesting book stores, music stores... "Yes you!" Cartersash heard in a deep voice from behind him. He turned around and saw a man in a white and light blue costume, a little sparkly... kind of like a wizard or a roller disco dancer... dancers... the dance theme... "Who me?" Cartersash said. "I'm Sleetgosm, I don't think you are good to be here." "Yeah those kids mentioned... um... you." "Did they?" "Yeah, so look. I take it you're the local... what, paranormal investigator? I'm sure I'm very fascinating to you and everything... but I really mean no harm, I'm not here to hurt anything." "And I am here to make sure of that, that you cannot hurt anyone," Sleetgosm said, moving closer to Cartersash. "Okay, don't believe me... what does it matter? You can't do anything about it." "Can't I?" Sleetgosm rushed forward and passed him arm through Cartersash, passing him sideways. Sleetgosm seemed to be in slow motion a little. "See friend?" Cartersash said. "I'm pass-through. I'm really not here... but I have this... I have to do something here. And I am feeling flippant but I will not... hurt you." "Oh I know that." Sleetgosm rushed toward Cartersash again, this time with his right fist held out. Right before the fist passed through his body, Cartersash saw the hand flick and saw a wooden cylinder appear on the top of the fist, pointing towards him. "Ahhhhhg!" Cartersash grunted. He felt something... like the feeling of a passing string or wire... it didn't hurt, but that he felt it startled him. The two turned to face each other. "Okay, you got my attention," Castersash said. "What was that thing? How did it..." "I can't let you roam around Teonto like this," Sleetgosm said. "Your intentions are aside--this walk of yours through our city in not acceptable." Cartersash now felt something like strings or wires brushing past him, maybe tightening a bit... he perceived the source of the "strings" and knew that he could wreck them... but he also perceived that to stop the strings he would have to hurt Sleetgosm... how bad this hurt would be he didn't know. But he backed off, not wanting to cause any damage to this other world or its denizens. He felt the unseen strings tighten and knew they would not harm him... though he instantly started feeling very drowsy. "There now," Sleetgosm said. "That went well. Nothing to it. Now you can come with me... we will go to a discreet location... you will stay there, and we will talk." Sleetgosm gently grasped Cartersash's upper arm... contact was made... Cartersash understood... some kind of occult vines? Brought him into phase... He allowed Sleetgosm to lead him away. * * * Cartersash was sitting in a big comfy chair... kind of like a couch, but only big enough for one person. He felt really relxaed, really tired, but in a good way... almost like he was drugged... he was aware, and not in danger of falling asleep... he felt good. Sleetgosm had brought him here... it was Sleetgosm's brother's house... in the suburbs of Teonto. "Just go along with it," Cartersash kept thinking. "It's not dangerous to me, just delaying to me... maybe I need a delay..." Really comfortable... really comfortable here. The big view is... trying to get back to a place I use to exist in... but how to get back... have to approach it the right way... use stories, use words... capture a feeling, an an essence, a tale. Cartersash was confident he could do it... get back to that land. He had been drifting, indulging, wasting time, slacking off. But the process of getting back--not so easy, not so easy. The force of authoring, that inner voice... singing a song, a clever song, could get you back. "I have got five games and I'm gonna try 'em all," said a boy to Cartersash. In his musing Cartersash had not noticed him. He held five video game boxes, and was about ten years old. "He got you with the block?" the kid asked. Just then, Sleetgosm strode into the room. "The block indeed," Sleetgosm said, tussling the boy's hair. "This one is a mystery to me... but as protector of Teonto, it is my respoinsibility to keep the city safe from unknown threats." Catersash raised his eyesbrows and made a face as to say, "oh well, what can I do?" with some humor. "Quen will keep you company," Sleetgosm said, motioning to the boy. "I have matters to attend to. He's my brother's boy. He will make sure you are okay, Cartersash." Cartersash was attentive but didn't speak. He had told Sleetgosm his name... stangely, Sleetgosm had reacted to the name in shock but would not explain... Catersash was not of this world, no one should know his name. "See you later," Sleetgosm said. "If you think it strange I am leaving you here alone with Quen, just know that there is no chance of anything bad happening." "Okay, friend," Cartersash said, and Sleetgosm left. Qeen walked over to a machine... a single unit, a seat, steering wheel, gear shift, pedals, and a large video screen. "This is my Pesh-A Scout, I just got it yesterday," Quen said. " It's an advanced driving game simulator. I've been reading about it for some long time, I haven't had time to play it too much yet, but now I am gonna try all five games and you can watch because my uncle Sleetgosm said it was okay." "Sounds interesting," Cartersash said. "You say this is Pesh-" "Pesh-A Scout. The company is 'Pesh-A', they've been making game for years since before I was born. But the Scout is the biggest one they made yet, all the games are for driving." "So... this is a simulator... different driving situations?" Cartersash asked. "No! Not all just like driving in the regular world, all kinds of games. Now what one should I do first...?" "What are the ones you have?" Cartersash asked. He was too far away to read the writing on the colorful boxes. "You play these games for a long time... my friend's cousin played one game for a whole week or three days without sleeping... afterward his father took it away from him and sold it. So I know I have to sleep sometimes to keep the Scout." Quen sat sideways in the seat still browsing the boxes. "Okay I'll do this one first. I tried it at a store once. 'Transit May I', I think it's the best one," Quen said, as he took a shiny triangular cartridge out of the box and inserted in under the seat. He got comfortably into the seat, grabbed the steering wheel with both hands, stared at the blank screen for a moment, then reached down and flipped a switch--and instantly a deep rumbling, engine revving, car horn cacophony blasted loudly in the room. "Haha, sorry! The sound is turned up way too high. But you must love that bootup sound, they got it just right, brilliant." A "Pesh-A Scout" logo appeared on the screen... which then faded into a series of scenes of various transit vehicles--buses, planes, taxis, trains, ferryboats... and finally ending with a "Transit May I" logo. Quen started playing the game... he had to go through seemingly endless menus before actually playing... each time, he would turn the steering wheel to choose various different settings, and then press the gas pedal to choose... the steering wheel seemed a little overly sensitive at times and he wound up having to go back and choose again. Finally, he started playing... driving a commuter train at first, then switching to a helicopter, then a ferryboat... each time controlling the vehicles from a "cockpit" perspective. The game continued on, round after round, and it was a comfortable repetition for Cartersash, whose pleasing drowsiness had become even more pleasing. The thought of standing up was nowhere in the realm of possibility at that time... he was just happily drifting there in his chair, as Quen was happily piloting various commuter vessels. After awhile, Quen turned off the game system and the room was silent... Cartersash looked up from his musing. "Okay, that's a good game," Quen said, "but I have four more to try to I saved that game and I'll go back to it later." "Sounds like a good plan," Cartersash said. "Okay, which one next, do you think?" "Say kid, so your uncle Sleetgosm is what, a superhero?" Quen looked over at Cartersash. "I guess you could say he is a hero, I don't know. 'Super hero', never heard it put like that, but he does help everyone. He's a protector." "What does he protect against?" "Enemies." "Ah... so here, superheroes are 'protectors', and supervillains are 'enemies'... so many worlds, so many variants on the theme..." "He's protector of Teonto, but he used to be part of a team in another city." Cartersash nodded. "I told my father I wanted to be a protector someday," Quen said. "But he said one protector in the family is more than enough. But I took a magic test and I think I could do it." "Magic and video games..." Cartersash said. There were several moments of silence. "Okay I think I know the next game," Quen said, and he inserted a new cartridge into the system. He turned the power on and the same bootup sequence happened, and then the title of the new game... "YEAR POWER CARS" "I read about this one in the magazine," Quen said. "It's one big world, set in motion from the start of game, and a year's worth of stuff going on, which you can affect." Cartersash sat up a little in his seat. "That's an interesting concept," he said. "So everythig you do in the game affects the virtual world in progress?" "I think so... my friend said he played it a few weeks ago. He said ever little thing you do changes the game, the way the year progresses." "Interesting... so almost like making a story, writing a story..." Quen didn't answer, but started playing the game. Again, there were a lot of menus to go through, this time setting up his character... it seemed to center around these colorful, suped-up cars... and driving through amazing vistas, lots of native artwork on canyon walls, ancient symbols, jungles, stuff like that..." Cartersash watched him play for awhile... Quen was driving a "power car" and pulled into what looked like a gas station. "Gotta get some gurf to start off!" A sign by the station read "Cottashewne Gurfotine" in a red, green, and white logo. Cartersash looked puzzled and looked down at his notebook, which he had talken out of his pocket. He flipped through the pages and found something he had written: "Uncle Ottashewne"... and now in this game, "Cottashewne"... he shook his head. Was his story working? Was he aligning himself back to... "What are you writing, a tale?" came a voice from behind Cartersash. He looked around to see a little girl peering over his shoulder. He slowly closed the notebook. "Hello there," he said. Quen spoke up as he pulled out of the gurf station. "Get outta here Stio! Dad said you weren't supposed to come in here. I'm playing and Uncle Speen brought this guy here." "Shut up Quen!" Stio said. Quen paused the game with some effort, and then stood up. "Get out of here!" he said, pointing toward the door. "I won't," Stio said. "I want to play Scout too." "I get total rights to it for the first two weeks, that's what dad said." "No he didn't," she said. Quen rubbed his face with his hand in frustration. "Come on kids," Cartersash said. "Stop quarreling. Stio, I'm Cartersash, pleased to make your acquaintance." "Hello," Stio said. Suddenly, a voice boomed out of the game system, "Mission tomorrow.... mission tomorrow... mission tomorrow..." Quen rushed over to the game. "I thought I had it on pause!" He started playing again and saw there was a TV screen in the dashboard of the car, showing an alert for an upcoming mission. Stio sat down on a couch and was watching Quen play intently. Eventually, Quen got to a restaurant built into a bridge. His character got out of the car. There was only one lane for traffic... but as soon as he got out, an elevator lifted his car up to another level, and another section of roadway rose as part of the elevator system, making the road whole again. "Okay, this is a good place to save the game," Quen said, and switched to another game. This one was called "Drearian", and seemed to revolve around dreary things and driving through rainy, dreary places. There was something almost hypnotic about is... rain falling, windshield wipers on... driving through crowded suburban streets, waiting at traffic lights a lot... a lot like real life, Cartersash thought. After awhile, Quen started trawling thorugh the menus to save the game, and Stio said "Come ON Quen, let me play." "NO!" Quen yelled, as he shut off the machine and found the next game... The next game began... "Hill and Storm Estates"... "You have to drive around and find raw materials and build your cool estate," Quen said. "Let me play!" Stio said. "No Stio... just leave me alone and I'll let you play later, okay?" "Promise?" "Yes! Now get out of here." "Okay but you better let me," Quen said, and she got up and walked out of the room. "Goodbye Cartersash." "Goodbye," Cartersash said. "Okay," Quen said. "My friend Charles told me about some cool stuff hidden in this game... if you use the right code you can find I think a strip club or something..." "Aren't you too young for that kind of thing?" Cartersash said. "I know, but I just wanna see if I can find it." He went through a bunch of menu screens. "Oh look!" he said. "This one has coming attractions of other games!" A series of short videos played, showcasing some upcoming titles... More construction based games... two different variants on the same game, it seemed: "Winevane Construction" and "Linevale Construction". Then, "Events Motorist", featuring various events, like a tornado, a tidal wave, a volcano, and a ballooning festival. More games... "Dimension War and Race", "Analog Overland", and "Analog Overland 2". "Amazing how much time and energy people put into creating these games, isn't it?" Cartersash said. "Yeah," Quen said. Then another preview came on... for "Rillekon's Road". "WHAT??" Cartersash said loudly. "Oh, I have that game!" Quen said, and shut down the system. He found the box for "Rillekon's Road" and put the cartridge in. Cartersash stood up with great effort and stumbled toward Quen. "Can I see the box?" he said. Quen looked up, clearly a little concerned, but held up the box for him. "RILLEKON'S ROAD" "That is where I am trying to get back to," Cartersash said. "What, the game?" Quen said, as he put the box down and looked back to the screen. A "Rillekon's Road" logo came up... which then faded into a scene of this weird highway, with lots of strange buildings and businesses on the roadside. It was an aerial shot... and soon a big winter-themed stadium came into view... "Winter Stadium Them..." Cartersash said. "Oh yeah," Quen said, "they have protectors in this game, all different teams." The aerial shot continued to pan... following a group of giant war vehicles... zoomed in to see a man with green hair staning on a balcony on the edge of the lead vehicle, as they drove up a ramp to a huge and ornate bridge. And the camera stopped as the vehicles zoomed forward and disappeared into the mist and fog shrouding the further parts of the amazing bridge. Cartersash was there, standing on a roadway as the bridge faded from view. "You got back," a woman's voice said. Cartersash turned to see Thor Panther Clothing. "Hi Thor." "Hello Cartersash. You came back at a good time. There are going to be battles around and around and around Gnoboslast." "It feels like the universe is falling apart," Cartersash said. "I had such a hard time getting back here." "I think it would have already fallen apart if not for that guy Daptin Gone. He's holding it together, somehow... but who knows for how much longer..." "I really have to figure out what's going on around here," Cartersash said. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 30: THE CARTERSASH STORY CUPLINE'S END ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 31: BEAUTIFUL DISASTER AREA 1 Chapter--SR-xxx ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 31: BEAUTIFUL DISASTER AREA CHAPTER 1 SR-xxx ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 6 sr06 0.1--Burchard and Keepy -------------------------- ============================== Keepy came into computer center. The warmth of the place was a little euphoric in contrast to the snowstorm seen through big windows. And the smell of distant fireplace fires recent to her, her hair pure white, the college was almost empty. A funny-looking guy with long hair was talking on the phone. He was the only other person in computer center, and he was at the admin desk. "I think feBDA beta 4 came closest to replicating that function," he said. "No, no man, I don't know what they're thinking with beta 5, it's way too ambitious. Yeah they're never, never... yeah they're never gonna keep at it long enough. No. I mean even the substances routines, wood types, and fruit... and the basic shapes... shopping..." Keepy was sad and felt some computers. The other her was miles away, the one from yesterday. And she knew there were snowflakes that wouldn't hit the ground tomorrow. "Yeah Vipe, yeah let me go. I got a customer. And yeah, I totally agree about the stop-motion characters, there's like no way, y'know? Later." Keepy looked at the guy and kinda smiled. His T-shirt had silly cartoon characters on it, faded. She would have had the goth look except she never wore black. Her heart was heavy, and almost crying she took a deep breath and shut her eyes for a few seconds. "Computer center seems weird, so empty," she said. "I know, but that's the way I like it. I got a lot of projects I want to work on while it's still Jan Term, and just look at all the free computing cycles all around us! I think I'm gonna try and make the longest number ever, using like every single computer. Well, the longest number to have arithmetic functions perfomed on it, that is." "It sounds cool." "Yeah well anyway, is there anything I can help you with? Didn't you... didn't you used to come in here a lot, like back in September, October?" "Yeah. A lot of my friends were into some of the games here." "Did you ever play bgBDA? I thought I saw you playing it a couple of times. That's my version of BDA. BG, Burchard Gnake, my initials. I don't even know how it started, but everyone names their BGA clones with their initials." "So you're a programmer?" "Well yeah, y'know, I do spend a lot of my time with that. I've actually been working on my BDA again over the past few weeks, but I think I'm gonna kinda lay off it for awhile. It's just a pointless obsession." Keepy cocked her head. "What's the deal with the whole BDA thing anyway? I heard that a couple guys programmed it like 12 or 13 years ago, but they lost the original program? And what does it stand for... something disaster something?" "Beautiful Disaster Area. It was like the best game ever. I actually got to play the original, in my freshman year. But then the summer between my freshman year and sophomore year the Froc-E4 that it was on finally gave up the ghost. And that was that. And then it was that next year that everyone started to really try and remake it, to remake it perfectly. But I really don't think it's ever gonna happen." "So what, that was it? The only copy of it was on that computer, and the computer just broke?" Keepy asked. "Yeah, I wish it was that easy. No, the uh, the way the original programmers made it, it was a kind of self-modifying code. It was like, every time someone played it, the actual program itself changed. That's what was so great about it. But over the course of time, the program became so radically different that there would have been no way to derive the original from the modified. And that's what was so cool about it. Just such a primitive computer, and like you'd play these characters going through these worlds, and there would always be new things, new discoveries. I remember when I was playing it, I got into this whole fairy tale, nursery rhyme kind of place, and everybody said that in ten years, no one else had found it. And I have the transcripts to prove it." "Transcripts, huh?" "Yeah. Anyway I mean, can I help you with anything? Did you want to get onto one of the computers?" "Nah, I don't want to take computing time away from your giant number." "Ah come on, one computer's not gonna matter." "Well, okay... Burchard was it?" "Yeah y'know, Burchard, Burch, B, whatever." "Well hello Burch," Keepy said, and shook hands with him. "I'm Keepy Hawkfossil. And I think maybe I want to take another stab at that game of yours. If I remember correctly, I think I liked it." Burchard regarded Keepy. She seemed so sad, she seemed on the verge of tears again. They locked stares and Burchard was honestly compassionate. "Or maybe," Keepy said, accepting the compassion, "I just need to... I just, I just have to talk to someone." "Well, sure," Burchard said after a pause. "I mean, definitely. You want to go over to the lounge, like over there, y'know, we could talk... not like I have a lot to do here." But Keepy hesitated, a complex expression on her face. "Are you okay?" Burchard asked. "I'm okay. Let's go sit down." They walked over to the lounge, with some comfy orange couches, and a good view of the snow coming down. "Gotta love that snow," Burchard said. "Burchard I... I have to ask you something before we start talking. I just want to know what you... what you think about your future. How do you feel about it?" "My future? Well, I mean, I'm a senior, and I'll be outta this place in a few months. I'll probably be heading home and... look for a job. I'm really excited about computers, y'know, a career in computers, because they're advancing at such a geometric rate. In a few years the computers are just gonna... dwarf... dwarf all the computers of today. So I really want to get into a good place, work on all the cutting edge stuff. I don't know, that's what I really want." "And Burchard, do you... do you have a girlfriend? Here, or back home? Anyone special to you? Are you close with your family? Do you have really good friends here that you think you'll keep in touch with? Or friends from home that you have kept in touch with?" Burchard's eyes widened as he considered the question. "Uh, that's... I don't know. I do have a girlfriend, but I don't know if I want to spend the rest of my life with her. My family's okay. And I have friends. But what is this all about?" "Look Burchard, I want... I want to be very honest with you about this. I have a story, my personal story, to tell you. But by telling you I'm going to be putting you in a terrible position. I don't know. I don't know if it's terrible but... but I just have to talk to somebody about all this. It's driving me crazy." Burchard reached out and touched Keepy on the arm. It was a compassionate touch, not a sexual advance type touch, and he made sure his body language conveyed that. "What is it, what's driving you crazy? Come on, how bad could it be? Just tell me... I give you permission, whatever bad situation it'll put me in. Come on." She looked up at him. Definitely a goth thing going on. She was short and slim and tragic. Young face, but not-so-young eyes. The eyes made Burchard slightly scared for the first time in the encounter. She put her index finger sideways between her lips and squeezed, looking intensely toward computer center. She finally shook her head and sighed and faced Burchard. "Okay, I'll tell you. I know I'm gonna tell someone eventually, so I might as well get it over with. Burchard, you are looking at a time traveller. A time traveller who's not very happy." "What?" "A time traveller. I'm a time traveller. You don't have to believe me, I could easily demonstrate it to you. But I'd rather not. So just, just hear me out. I just want to tell someone what I'm going through." "Look, hey, I'm open to new ideas. I'm really, I've been really into time travel kind of ideas and all that. Don't worry. Just go ahead, it's no problem. I'm glad to help." "Okay. Okay, I'll tell you. The world is going to end at 4:22 PM and 32 seconds. That's less than 5 hours from now. At that time, the world will just disappear. I know, cuz I've seen it happen. I've seen it twice. The first time, it turned my hair white. White all over. The second time wasn't as bad. I guess I just knew what to expect." "Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. How could you know when the world was gonna end? If you were there, if you saw it, why weren't you destroyed too?" "That's not the way it was. I... can feel time... it's hard to explain, but I can feel forward and back, future and past. And soon after I got my power, I realized there was a problem. Because I realized that I didn't feel anything past 4:22 PM on this date, Monday, January 12, 1687." "So you... time travelled to investigate?" "Yes. I did. The, y'know, ending was about 8 years in the future from where I was. I had perfected a way of being in two times at once. Just two times superimposed. I practiced a lot. I figured, if I passed into the nothingness, or whatever it is, I'd still be anchored to that other time, so I could pull back. So that's what I did. And that other me, who I was over 30 years ago, will be performing that experiment in five hours, about 200 miles from here." "What, here?" Burchard asked. "Yes. Here. This time. I did it. I waited... I was so scared. And then, the clock at 4:22:31... and right when it should have gone to 32, it happened. Void. Nothingness. Cold. Emptyness. Loss. I was there for less than a second. But it took me weeks to recover. And my hair turned white, just like that." "So wait a minute. You're saying that this event is going to occur... today?" "Yes! That's what I'm saying. That's why I'm so sorry I told you." She reached forward and held his upper arms, and started to cry. He awkwardly and slowly moved into a hugging position. "It's... okay," he said. "No it's not. If I hadn't told you, you would have just disappeared and never knew it. Or maybe you'd just keep going, maybe it's just me who can't get past that point. I don't know, I just don't know. I'm so lonely... and I have to go back in time again... set up a new life for myself again..." "Now wait, wait," Burchard said, and broke the hug, pushing her gently away. "What do you mean, set up a new life? If you're a time traveller, why not just travel through time forever. There's gotta be more than enough to, y'know, explore." "I do! I do do that. But a lot of stuff about past times is disturbing. Violence and bad smells, and lots and lots of fucking assholes. I'm telling you, people are real assholes in the past. Don't get me wrong, I like visiting the past. But I like living in the present, in these days, the eighties. But once 4:22 finally came the first time, for real, I had to say goodbye to everyone I loved. All my friends, my family, everyone. I couldn't just go back to my life in the past, because I was already there. If I went back, there would be another me there. And I'll do anything not to be around another me. It's creepy, it's just wrong. I wouldn't do that to myself, to my family. So I had to go back, start a new life for myself. New friends, new loves. But I stay close to 4:22. I stay close. I should go back farther, but I don't like living in those times. I like these times." Burchard's mind was racing. "But why not... why not bring everyone back with you? I mean, can you transport other people?" "Yes, yes. One at a time, but I can do it. But that's not the problem. The problem is, I have no idea if the world ends for everyone at 4:22, or if it just ends for me. There's no way I can know. I cannot personally get past 4:22 PM on January 12, 1687. But I can't say for sure that the world is ending for everyone else. So to tell people about it, take them back in time... it may be depriving them of a true, rich future." "Wow, I see what you meant when you said it would put me in a bad situation." "I'm so sorry." "No... you know, it's weird. I remember reading that with BDA, if it was played every day, it would inevitably crash in mid-January this year. Yeah like, every time the program self-modified, it writes to a portion of the disk. So when it inevitably ran out of room, the disk would crash and the program would be completely destroyed. But they said it would be around this time, mid-January. Of course, the computer died three years ago, from other causes. But that is just too weird. Unless..." "Unless I'm making all this up. I know, I know." "No no no, no, I'm not saying..." "I tell you, I don't know," Keepy said. "I'm 52 years old, and I still don't know. I don't know if it's just me." "52? What the hell are you talking about? You're not 52. There's no way." She smiled at him, tears streaming down her face. "I didn't expect that it would happen like this. But time itself, maybe, is repulsed by the thought of time travellers. Won't touch people like me maybe. I haven't aged a day physically since I started time travelling. And you know what? I'm not a 52-year-old woman. I'm a 22-year-old woman, who's just happened to experience 52 years. And, I assume, hundreds and hundreds of more years to come. Wow. I can't wait." "I can't really process this," Burchard said. "How exactly do you do this time travel? How did you get this power?" "I really don't want to talk about that now. I just want to say that... I'm tempted to face the end again. Try and hold on for more time. Maybe it's just a few seconds of void that I need to get through! There's no way to know. But if I could get through it... I'd get back not just one, but four separate lives, one of them being here at Thatterine College. But I have to get past 4:22..." "Keepy, let me tell you something. If you really are a time traveller, I have to say that all my life I have wanted to travel through time. If you want someone to go with you, to help you, I would go without any hesitation, even if it meant throwing away my entire future, I would go. I mean I think you might know this, I mean... my game... it deals with time travel a lot. Is that why... is that why you chose me to talk to?" She breathed heavily and stared at him and was thinking deep. "Keepy," Burchard said, "if this is true, the whole time travel and everything, it's like what I always wanted. If it's not true, then you're just misguided and everything will be fine. But the worst thing would be if you don't take me with you, and I flash out of existence knowing I could have been a time traveller." "I'll be honest. I was looking for someone like you, maybe subconsciously... but someone smart, someone who could help me, potentially. Help me get past 4:22." "Keepy, if you can take me back in time, let's do it. Let's just do it right now. I'm ready, willing, and able. Let's just do it." "Okay," Keepy said, and she touched Burchard's hand, and in an instant it was 40 years earlier. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 31: BEAUTIFUL DISASTER AREA CUPLINE'S END ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 32: LAZY DAY 1 Chapter--SR-xxx ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 32: LAZY DAY CHAPTER 1 SR-xxx ============================== -------------------------- CHAPTER 24 sr24 0.2--Superior Chapter -------------------------- ============================== What I know about Rome, chances with young women, and living in the world's coolest treehouse. Wild saw-mangled energy motorcycle, take the plunge Barry. Laughing on wingtime the spot gravellette. Earth hole wandering, just another airday tramp. Emma, the flask of the, Wallace, of splinter of congress of them, I opened the theater. Lazy day and odd sun. Nine little pebbles remote in a vast deserted parking lot huddle together, speaking in relaxed whispers, having a little meeting. The clouds come. Thunder the darkening sky. Air the prime raindrops blossom forth in deluge collapsing onto the pavement. And the nine little pebbles have a little drink. Under the way, a friendly odd place, where broken colorful glass is there, and a land of friends is there, and a land of animals. The rainy reality system's gift, a many-aspect question, for the bright kids of yestermore. Just a slant crossing, just a bare react-fashion, just the former three, or four if you prefer. I was never grouped under those who pretend, but here all is lost, Emma. This is happening. It is unregulated. I was quiet. In wood huddle. Sweet smoke on hill. Time has come to do some exploring. That is unrehearsed. Flew at latenight rented car earlymorn, domed hotel and ralcifice office, the tin bannister sanction. Was I not a warrior, of skill and power? Billiard winter drink, I was in you, I was the deep glass window at the airport last night. I am burning. Hint of pepper in the air and she's finally with me. Today for adventure, tonight for sexual adventure. Why are there computer graphics in my thoughts? Dear home, I depart, and must hope you'll survive. You have a mundane life, not here, but at most a day like this. And it's a hunting. It's a knockout. Fan and random we ambled, and came upon an area funny. The darkness not under back a little, and all of us were frightening. Can this be reconciled, this days? Time travel is an option. Reality systems can'ts betrays evernessity. Lords of Uncontrol, we, nevery and quite silly. But all I want is the picture. I am a wristwatch made of mist. Commanda Royal Blue, the cinnamon backlash affair. Junction, the mystery of the man made of milk. Mendel is isn't it. Imperial the Scout Lounge. Try motion and ski Neptuna. Financial and ethical skinny dipping do the kid. Matrimonial erase, indrenction. Dark storm campfire running, the mellow flicker, dark wave campfire strolling. Spokes. Going through a rain highway I said was a goal and a fair romance. Free in a clearing were bolt haven the corner mazen. And the in the day was fine, and in mine and is cure. Dank blended heart, pleasing all morons in matters of affairs of the bit match smoldering in saliva sanguinely. Less else is nonsense to snare. Bareful bugs in neat supple vim. College caterwaul, blaming of the vane. Stupid awards in afternoon breezes. Fallaback, Hanson, the days of smoke and swimming are done with. Strange needle tonight, the friend of a friend and his cool walls. Discovery night, and you're trying to worship Freya. Predatory car, magic branch, Lord of the Mall. If it weren't for constant competition, things would be pretty dull around here. The radar echo would indicate lifeheat. Then I watched as the building, an office plaza, was blasted to rumble by an grenadier in shiny plastic white armor. His nemesis was gameshowhost. Just kidding, his nemesis was Roosevelt. Neither the trowel nor the dame are languid. Look, the state of night far college drive. See, the girlfriend is just barely a friend, young nightmare. In sleep I know I think. A daze is my only seen in a mall with a games are good. No pretend car! Cough drops are smooth, the power to go on. You're a girl and your cousin is a girl. I am night time, amber light, amber night. Let it all go. Cool in the darkness. You fool. I'm on Tabasco and she's on codeine. Sometimes on cable I flip past a rodeo. Ten minutes ahead of travel. Dark sky massive flight, Sunday destruction--killflay their deity. Feminine day forever, was the and is the deep smell of girl. Foolin', retarded jigsaw circumstance, massage of emptiness, a bolt of heaven. Down for real, ignition in skin, a cold rainy street morning afterward. I'll take the outside. Being that wonder is slight, going all along the day midwall, the corporeal stab is the your sense. Building is the same, in a wane, in the stay, to over gas stations. Can we all mall? Snowflaw car, the day of the eatery's salad bar super tray. For the nice domed window above I call home, and a book on magic at the library is under a roof in the rain. Can all this be? Twis sury. Through these dank fields, did we all amble, chomping on shields, dining on bramble. The light of the morning, a massacre made, remember the warning--in fog we do fade. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 32: LAZY DAY CUPLINE'S END ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 33: THE NURSHIP STUNS 1 Chapter--SR-xxx ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 33: THE NURSHIP STUNS CHAPTER 1 SR-xxx ============================== SEVERE REPAIR New Writing 9/2/03 by Frank Edward Nora ============================== "One of the prisoners that was being mistreated turned out to be a god," said Daptin Gone. "Yeah, I heard that book kicks ass, I gotta check it out," Nim Bunique said. "What book?" Kilpy Cawer asked, walking into the dorm room. She was a cute, hyperactive freshman girl. "The uh, 'The Nurship Stuns', it's a really good book," Nim said. "I've been really wanting to read for a long time. Daptin says it's awesome." "Yeah," Daptin said, "I was just telling Nim about this part, all these guys were in this jail where they did all this messed-up stuff to them, all kinds of torture and shit, and how one of them was this god, like pretending to be a regular person, and... what?" Daptin paused because Kilpy was staring at him intensely. "Daptin Gone," Kilpy said slowly, speaking like an investigator, proud of herself. "When I met you at that party the other night I knew your name sounded familiar. So I went down to Big Building, to the library, and scoped some archives. You're quite an interesting guy. I found that magazine you published, 'Stuporconductor'. The guy at the desk wasn't gonna let me see them, said they were like guarded or something. But I flirted with him and he let me read some." "Guarded?" Daptin said. "Why the heck would they be guarded?" "I don't know," Kilpy said. "But anyway--the magazines rock by the way--in one of your rambling editorials you mentioned your childhood in Arctica, and then I remembered! It was one of those TV shows, that have profiles of people, and stories and stuff? I think I was pretty young, but I remember a story about you, about how you fooled the whole country into giving you tons of money to travel around, because you faked having some disease?" Daptin ran his fingers though his long green hair, shaking his head. "You know, it's been like, this constant thing, trying to defend myself about that. All I can say is, you can believe me or not believe me, but I'm telling you, I suffered so hellishly with that Hizzings Disease, you couldn't even begin to imagine. I was as good as dead, I would have been dead in a week or two, when that, whatever, unexplained phenomenon occurred. I can't say what it was, but I was fine after that and everyone started hating my ass like crazy." Daptin smiled a bitter smile and made eye contact with Kilpy. She narrowed her eyes. "The unexpected phenomenon..." she said. "What was it? You got kidnapped by parties unknown, and wound up in some unknown mountainous region? Then they healed you and brought you back to the hospital?" "It was the lost tribes of Arctica", Nim said, "in contact with the under-the-earth people. They took pity on Daptin and took him to their hidden wasteland, using their unbelievably advanced technology to cure him!" Daptin punched Nim in the arm. "Shut up!" he said. Kilpy plopped down in a beat up comfy chair. "Daptin hangs out with the under-the-earth people!" Nim said mockingly, and Daptin shoved him halfway off the bed they were both sitting on. "Why, that's not true?" Kilpy asked. "It's what some sick people with too much time on their hands concocted for some conspiracy theory," Daptin said. "But if that wasn't the truth, then what did happen?" Kilpy asked. Daptin shook his head and shrugged. "I honestly don't know. I had what you might say was a very vivid dream, and I woke up healthy. Some people I thought were my friends, who I had told about the dream, started talking to the media, and the whole thing got blown way out of proportion." "Didn't all these people who gave money to your travelling fund want their money back?" Nim asked. "Yeah, it was a mess," Daptin said. "But some new tax law went into effect around that time, and everyone who contributed to my travels got some kind of tax break, so it wasn't really that big a deal." "But Daptin," Nim said, "you have to admit, the whole kidnapping angle, considering what happened with your father..." "What happened with your father?" Kilpy asked, looking very interested. Daptin took a deep breath. "My father... I never knew him. He died before I was born." "Oh I'm sorry..." Kilpy said. "No, no," Daptin said, "it's just, he died rescuing some kids who were supposedly kidnapped. And he died in the fire, and, I don't know, the kidnappers also died. And once it was all over, the fire was so intense that there wasn't much left of the kidnappers or my father. And then all these conspiracy theories started coming out about that. I don't know." "So you never knew him?" Kilpy asked. "No, it was... it was like, he just went out with my mother, she got pregnant, he died..." "Wow..." Kilpy said, looking down. "They were talking about the under-the-earth people even with that one, right Daptin? Your father?" Nim said. "Yeah," Daptin said, "He was kind of a celebrity. He had this talent for fixing really bad problems. All sorts of companies and government agencies, you know, hired him to help them. So when he died, there was this whole thing about him faking his death and everything, because they said he was tired of helping everyone. But my mother said that was absolutely not true, and that he loved what he did, and that he did die in the fire." There was a silence as the conversation came to a natural pause. Finally, Kilpy raised her eyebrows and sighed. "Wow, my life seems pretty boring compared to all that," she said. "I'd like some boring," Daptin said with a weary smile. "And now man," Nim said, "you continue the conspiracy theories by taking a job with some government agency that you can't talk about because it's top secret." Daptin turned to face Nim, with a look of mock annoyance. "I told you, I might be able to talk about it at some point, but right now I'm not supposed to," Daptin said. "Wow this just gets interestinger and muddlinger and... I know, I'm babbling..." Kilpy said. "I just seem to be a magnet for really weird stuff," Daptin said. Nim laughed under his breath and smiled strangely, looking at Daptin. "What?" Daptin said. "Nothing," Nim said, and then he looked over at Kilpy. "So, how are things with The White-On-Blue Club?" "Wait a second," Kilpy said to Nim, "Trying to change the subject? I think I smell a rat here... is there something you're not telling me?" "Um... yes..." Nim said. "Let's see... Daptin dropped out of school eight months ago to join some secret agency, even though he was half a year away from graduating. I'm a year behind him, but we were roommates in my first year here, and we became fast friends... You, my dear, are a freshman, and a love interest of mine, if I might say so. And..." "What's wrong with you?" Kilpy said. "Stop describing everything and just spit it out, whatever it is." "Well, some people get it, and some people don't," Nim said. "I've been holding back telling you Kilpy, y'know, because it'll suck if you're one of those who don't get it." "What the hell?" Kilpy said. "Just tell me!" Nim looked over at Daptin, smiling, and took a deep breath. "Okay. Daptin, I didn't know if I wanted to tell you yet. You just gotta promise that you won't tell anyone in whatever damn place or agency you joined." "Huh?" Daptin said. "Just... come on. Just tell me, in general, what kind of thing you work for," Nim said. "I already said, so many times, I can't tell you. But it's not what you think, not some kind of government thing," Daptin said. "Okay," Nim said. "What the hell are you talking about?" Kilpy asked as she got up and sat next to Nim on the bed. "I'll tell you," Nim said with a nod. "But... the thing is with this... situation... some people can understand it, and some people can't. If you can't..." Kilpy shook her head, confused. "What are you talking about, silly? Come on, just blurt it out. Why wouldn't we be able to understand it?" Nim frowned, shook his head, and looked down, tears forming. "I just have a bad feeling about it," Nim said, looking up at Kilpy, putting his hands on her shoulders. "This is something I want to share with you, but I have... I don't know... I don't know if you'll be able to..." Daptin leaned back on the bed, his eyes darting around in thought. "Nim," he said, "does this have something to do with... this guy who used to be a teacher..." "Huh?" Nim said, looking over at Daptin. "Bestroystraw...?" Daptin said. "What?" Nim said incredulously. "No, no, forget it," Daptin said. "Look," Nim said, "okay, I'm just gonna say it, and..." He took a deep breath. "My friends found a way to go into some kind of parallel universe," Nim said slowly. "Son of a bitch," Daptin said staring into the distance. Kilpy snickered a little and shook her head. Nim glanced at Daptin took another deep breath. "There's these people there," Nim continued. "And this is why I thought of that book in the first place, Daptin. They're gods, they claim be gods, of some sort. Not everyone there, but, like, the elite, they live in this hotel and they're gods." Daptin had a look of utter bewilderment on his face. Nim looked from Daptin to Kilpy. She was shaking her head and chuckling. "And here I thought you were gonna come up with something grand and amazing!" she said. "Um," Nim said, "I did say something grand and amazing. I said that we found another world, and that... okay, we met these gods and goddesses, and they are interested in, let's say, sponsoring us and... because, they need people like us.." "Y'know Nim, you're pretty lame sometimes, but I still love ya," Kilpy said. He looked at her with a very concerned expression. "Kilpy, this is real. I can prove it. No joke. But just let me know, would you be interested in me proving it to you?" "You're a real joker, Nim, baby!" Kilpy said, looking a little bit disoriented. "Damn," Nim said, looking at the comfy chair across the room. The three were silent for a bit. "Nim," Daptin finally said, "who has the... ability... to open the... way... to this other world?" "That's the thing Daptin, some people can grasp it and some can't. There's a place, it's not far from here, where you can just walk right into that other place. It's called Agoopish. It's a city. But most people can't bring themselves to go into that place. It's weird, it's like people get all... messed-up..." "Actually," Kilpy said, getting up, "I do have to do some work for the White-On-Blue Club. Just go on and keep talking to Daptin about things from books that you think are real, it's fine with me! But underneath it all, books are not reality, and someday you'll understand that. Goodbye." She walked out of the room, slamming the door shut as she left. "God damn it," Nim said, standing up. "I just had had a feeling she wouldn't be able to get it." Daptin also stood up, and then sat on the edge of a desk. "Nim, I think that... first of all, I do think that I can grasp what you're talking about. And maybe the best thing you can do right now is to take me there right now, and show it to me, the way into the other world." "That's cool man," Nim said. "I really hope that you can do it, that you have the ability, because all this time, the past few weeks, you're the main person I thought of, that it would be something you would be friggin' blown away by." "Nim, man, yeah! Yeah, I mean, I'm totally into the idea. Let's go, let's go do it now. We can take my car." "Okay," Nim said. "Just... you promise you won't reveal this to..." "No, I promise, I totally promise. That other thing I'm into, I don't trust them, and I wouldn't do anything at this point to particularly help them." "Okay man, cool. It's about a forty-minute drive. But I just want to warn you one thing. If you go, you're gonna want to go back, and live there and work there and stuff. It's friggin' amazing. I'm just trying to get my life in order here so I can stay there full-time, you know. So, I guess, this is your chance to back out, if you want to." "No," Daptin said, "I don't want to back out. Let's go." "Alright, just... let me call Minion... I think he should be in his room, let him know we're coming, he can meet us in the lobby" "You can make phone calls to the other world?" Daptin asked. "Oh yeah," Nim said, dialing the phone, "they have phone lines going through some doorway somewhere. You have to go through the switchboard at the hotel, though. I think they're the only ones with a connection to, y'know, here. Hold on, it's ringing... hello? Minion? Hey man, it's Nim. I'm home, college, y'know... Anyway, I'm coming through, and I'm bringing someone with me... you got it man, Daptin Gone, the one and only... yeah no problem, take your time, we won't be there for an hour or two. Okay, bye." "So Minion Van Hall is, as we speak, in another dimension?" "Yup. And he says he's psyched to see you. I really hope you can get through the entrance. So far it seems like you probably will. It just sucks that my sorta girlfriend Kilpy doesn't seem to have what it takes. Oh well, maybe I'll go out with a goddess instead..." -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 33: THE NURSHIP STUNS CUPLINE'S END ============================== -SR- ============================== SEVERE REPAIR a science fiction story by Frank Edward Nora May 2007 Edition--the whole thing as it stands right now severerepair.com--copyright 1986-2007 ============================== CUPLINE 34: DOLTHETHMEN 1 Chapter--SR-xxx ============================== -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 34: DOLTHETHMEN CHAPTER 1 SR-xxx ============================== 02.2--Dolthethmen ============================== Later on, Dolthethmen went to the mall. In the bookstore, in the philosophy section, he read the following sentence from a random page of a random book: "In this, the state of the nature of the entity, we are as to stumble upon the corroborative name." Dolthethmen cringed. So here he was in the bookstore, and a fairly well-stocked bookstore it was, for a mall bookstore. He reasoned that this bookstore was like a video store, only that he needn't own an expensive device to decode the contents of the books, as one would require with videos. But, he reasoned, one must learn to read to decode a book, which in the final analysis is probably more expensive than any video machine. Ah! So many books. How much reasoning? The shroud of this reality, like a blanket, has many features. But Dolthethmen was at the mall, at the mall. And the desire he had had to go to the mall was great. Great. But Dolthethmen knew that no matter where he went, no matter what job he had, that the core of either his satisfaction or discontent was this: his core endeavor. Now this thing this thing had to be manifested, now that an opportunity had shown itself. He thought, as he left the bookstore: "Ah, the glowings of man's incandescences! Leave me now, pal day, so to embrace your sister dusk. Be, be in my mind, the lightning unbalanced. I am the holder of many such discharges of force; be not afraid of me, but rather, respect me. "Not really hungry, but eating takes a long time and is a good way to waste time these days. Why an avoidance? Why not going ahead for the it of it? The tit. The tit. The tits the tits. I see many tits this evening, albeit clothed, and how I'd like to suck them and lick them and kiss them, but I know this will not happen. Sexuality is okay, but more a seasoning than a substance. I know nothing anymore, else that all I know... "Be my girlfriend, I'd like to ask one of these mall pretty silly girls. But to what avail? Somethings are not right. Piranha fish these guys, eating it all up, mindless. A loner, I? Mayhap. Mayhap. "Be my girlfriend, or at least my lay. "Be my joy, as I avoid that which is truly important. But why avoid it? This avoidance is irrational for sure, but still I am doing it. Is it beyond my control? Yes, I believe it is beyond my control at the moment; that for the moment, I am screwed. "So clutch me, ennui, as you always do. So clutch me." Now Dolthethmen a while later thought: "Here is reality. And as I go through the week, I cycle thru a variety of moods and outlooks, each relieving the pressure of the other. But somehow I must break free from this cycle. I must break free. And I will. But the disentanglement must be done in a stable manner." Dolthethmen in the mall ran into a friend, Hasnafter. Dolthethmen addressed him: "Hey, Hasnafter! How are ya!" "Yo! Dolthethmen! How goes it!" "Ah well. You know. Visions of riding on trains and that sort of stuff." "Well, that's cool. Hey, guess what dude, I got a new girlfriend." "Huh?" "A new girlfriend. And she's really hot. In fact, she's all I can think about, dude!" "Hasnafter, in hope, be dutiful, yet severe." "Say what, Dole?" "Never mind. I must be going." "Ho! Wait a second. Don't you wanna hear about my girlfriend? She has huge, shapely, succulent knockers, and..." "No, sorry, but I'm in a hurry." "Okay man. But take a raincheck, Dole--you REALLY wanna hear about her." "Okay, cool. See ya later." "Bye, man." Dolthethmen walked away from Hasnafter, not wanting to hear of Hasnafter's good fortune, especially not now. * * * * * Dolthethmen collapsed, there in the mall, having lost all interest in continuing to interact with the world. But he felt himself lying on the floor, and felt the stares of shoppers that he knew must be on him. But his body was heavy like a weight, a dead weight. And he didn't move. He must have remained that way for three or four minutes, wondering all the time when someone would take notice and come to his aid. Finally, full of wonder as to what was going on around him, he succumbed to his curiosity and opened his eyes, disgusted that he would give the world around him such heed. As he looked around, he realized that though shoppers occasionally glanced his way, they didn't want to bother themselves with investigating further. So Dolthethmen slowly got up and then quickly walked away, moving briskly along in the mall, smiling as sunlight from above stroked his moving form, and breathing a sigh of relief as he bolted up an escalator. Somehow, he felt refreshed and generally well. He thought: "Who am I? Who is Dolthethmen? I walk among these people, but am I truly one of them? Who am I? Who am I? "I muse, say I have an exciting life, but I erase all memories and occurrences, as a yardsman trimming a hedge. So I can be pure and bereft of the foul excresions of indulgence. Yea, I do wonder who I am, but though I am vaguely in discontent, I do not abhor my life as so many others seem to abhor theirs. Do they abhor their own lives or my own? I would think, were I so important that others might abhor my life, I would revel in it and love my life. "But what about sex? Sex seems to come in from the woodwork, to work and wreak havoc upon my sheltered soul. Life other than sex is hard enough, but with sex it becomes a real thunderstorm, I'd say. But such is life! Such is lust and living! "Indeed, let me think where to go. The arcade. To play videogames and pinball and confounders and maybe there'll be a few hot girls in the arcade too. The arcade. Let me go to the arcade. Play some pinball, some confounders. Aye, confounders. I wonder what the world would be like without confounders? As in, just videogames and pinball. It seems to me that confounders complete a triangle, that in videogame, pinball, and confounder, some stability is formed. For who would say that in the pantheons of today there isn't a god or goddess for such amusements? I would hope a goddess, as that's potentially erotic. How I'd like to be a designer of confounders and please that goddess in my work. "How might I explain a confounder to one on a world without confounders? Twould be tough, sure, but I can do it. Confounders are amusement machines, and to be found with and generally compared with videogames and pinball machines. They are based on the idea of actual physical happenings, as in pinball, but are quite varied, like videogames. Most pinball machines concern themselves with the motion of a small metal ball on a playfield, whereas confounders use a variety of objects, controls, and concepts. "In cosmic terms, is human sexuality an okay corruption? Can there not be much worse corruption out there, that would corrupt one beyond human capacity just to understand or consider? If I think of a weird word, like 'therC', am I in trouble with cosmic densities? How dense is the cosmos, and man included? This line of reasoning makes my feet tingle. "Ah! The wonder of the arcade! Ah the wonder, and glad am I that I'm not one who profits from such an endeavor, but rather, one who benefits! For I do benefit for I do enjoy it! Ah! "But hence and hey--do I recognize someone here? That girl Emily Tare from that job I had a few years ago? There she is, over at the 'Arc of Hypnosis' videogame, with another girl, who seems to be her friend!" So Dolthethmen strode over to the 'Arc of Hypnosis' machine, and watched as Emily's friend played, and hoped that Emily would notice him. But she didn't immediately, so he looked over at her, and stared at her for several moments and caught her attention. "Hey!" Emily said, "I know you! What the hell are you doing here, Dole?" At that moment Dolthethmen thought: "I pray to all the gods in existence please let me wind up in bed with this girl tonight." Then he said: "Just, y'know, Emily, walking around, eh." "Well, we just got out of work so we came here for a few games. Do you know Am?" said Emily. The other girl, Am, just got killed in the game. "Damn it," Am said. Emily took over control of the game, it being her turn, and continued to speak. "Am, this is Dolthethmen. Dolthethmen, this is Am. I used to work with him over at Mason Diode." "How ya doin'?" Am said. "Okay, how 'bout you? 'Am'--that's short for Ambivale?" Dolthethmen said. "Yup... say, weren't you, uh, weren't you out in the mall before, like, asleep on the ground?" Apparently at least Am, and possibly both Am and Emily, had seen him lying on the ground. "Yeah, I was lying on the ground--but I wasn't asleep--I'd just momentarily lost all enthusiasm to exist, that's all." "Highly abnormal--but I like it!" Am said. "Dole's a bit out there, Am," Emily said. Emily was sweet and beautiful, but Am was homely and chunky. As Dolthethmen stood there, he instantly knew that Am would like him, that he would like Emily. and that Emily would like someone else. This was the way it always went. Yearnings were chains of paper clips in Dole's mind. Dolthethmen thought: "The trick here is to alter reality so that Emily likes me, the guy she likes will like Am, and Am will like this other guy. If I can but solidify my initial appraisal, and then alter reality a bit, I'm sure we can have a nice double-date. In fact, why not have Am be the girlfriend Hasnafter was referring to?" Quickly, Dolthethmen's eyes shot onto Am's breasts, to make sure they were sufficiently huge, shapely, and succulent so as to correspond to Hasnafter's description. They were huge, but shapeliness and succulosity were in the eyes of the beholder. And indeed, Hasnafter was enough of a loser to think this girl a prize. So Dolthethmen desired to alter reality in the following way: that Hasnafter would walk in and be Am's boyfriend, want to go out, and suggest Dole for Emily's date, and that they later split, and he and Emily go back to her apartment and make love. Such a plan! But did he really have the ability to alter reality to such an extent? No, perhaps not, but he in that moment implored himself to remember this situation in the future when he would be in a state of greater power, and apply the reality-altering expression back in time so that the events he had just outlined would indeed occur. The next moment brought a signaling flash and light-headedness to Dolthethmen, and he knew that the realityalter had been achieved. He knew that Hasnafter would walk in any second. A clarification here. In referring to the altering of reality, I am referring to an innate ability on the part of an entity to change aspects of their environment in more fundamental ways than physical. Dolthethmen's strategy assumes that such a power can be applied to the past as well as the present. So he simply made a mental note that if he ever gained the ability to alter reality in a stable and effective manner, that he then alter this particular moment in the past, now the current present. Portions of this reasoning are dubious in a temporal and logical sense, but it worked in any case--though perhaps not in the same fashion as Dole expected. But then came a flurry of irrational fears in the face of his confidence that his realityalter was a success. Was Emily a good lover? Did she have VD? Might he impregnate her accidentally? Would he discover later that she had other love interests? He cursed himself for not being more complete in his realityaltering guidelines. But he figured that since the expression would still be generated in the future, he could continue to model his desired alter up to any point before a certain pathway in reality was revealed. In other words, until all the effects of the alter were apparent, could he not edit his mental note? Well, it mattered not, as Dole turned and saw Hasnafter approaching. "Dolthethmen!" Hasnafter said. "Long see no time! I see you found my girlfriend already--couldn't wait to hear about her from me, eh?" In a moment of panic, Dolthethmen hoped that reality would go his way; that Am and not Emily would turn out to be Hasnafter's girlfriend. "Girlfriend?" Dolthethmen asked "Yeah, the most lovely girlfriend anyone could ever have..." Hasnafter said as he strode forward and put his hands on Emily's shoulder, coinciding with her last guy in the game getting killed, "Emily!" Dolthethmen was about to collapse again, and was lightheaded, but then he heard them all laughing and saw in his panic Hasnafter embracing Am and saying: "Ha! Just testing ya, and you didn't believe it. See? Our love for one another is so great that it's visible and nobody could believe I was going out with anyone else but Am. So hey guys--you wanna go out? Emily, I know you were complaining that you didn't have a date, but I'm sure Dolthethmen would oblige! You're girlfriend wouldn't mind, would she, Dole?" "I don't have a girlfriend." "Well! And Emily doesn't have a boyfriend, so this looks like a match made in heaven! Let's go!" Emily spoke: "Well okay, if it's okay with you, Dole." "Fine by me." "Well okay!" Hasnafter said. "Let's go!" "Thank you thank you thank you," Dolthethmen thought to himself. "Oh wait a minute, huh? I wanna play another game of 'Arc of Hypnosis'!" Am said brightly. "Okay--why don't we all play!" Hasnafter said. "No," Emily said, "you can only have two players at a time--me and Dole'll play 'Worrisome Landscape'--okay, Dole?" "Yup," Dolthethmen said. "Things are going much too well," Dolthethmen thought to himself. 'Worrisome Landscape' was his favorite game. Favorite videogame, at least. Now as Dolthethmen played the game, as the Worrisome Landscape passed by on the screen, he wondered as to how he had managed to succeed in altering reality as he had. Verily, he felt sure that he would wind up in bed with this Emily chick, and that things would have to start to go his way in general, being that he now seemed to be able to alter reality to some degree. But he cautioned himself. He did not have a very stable track record in altering reality, and there was no telling whether this circumstance was lucky or whether he had executed a repeatable action. But he did of course realize that in altering reality he did risk altering himself a little bit in the bargain. But he didn't really concern himself with that too much. As he smelled Emily's subtle perfume and felt as she brushed against him now and again during the game, he spontaneously began to visualize her naked body--her arms, her breasts, her legs, her pussy, her ass. He couldn't wait to be nude with her, to have sex. Sex, that glad destroyer of everything. Dolthethmen also worried a little about whether, in calling upon the aid of another version of himself, if he might really have enlisted the aid of a separate being, like a demon or god, and therefore might owe said being payment. But he discarded this notion, as it seemed unlikely. But still, the supernatural veil around him was of questionable veracity, and he knew he could be in a deluded state. As far as what was really going on out there in the supernatural, Dolthethmen was in the pitch black dark of unknowing. But he figured that perhaps, far out in the inky despair of the void, the matter became irrelevant. So he played the game and lusted and did not remember the corrupt event of earlier in the day, at the video store, where he was apparently abducted by a future version of himself, in the form of a gorgeous woman, who was highly corrupt and apparently stalking the past to fuck previous version of herself. But the herself was himself, in some possible future. But he did erase the event. Not that he didn't experience it, but that officially, it never happened. Now you might wonder how he did it--so I'll tell you. He had entered a state of being where he had access and knowledge of a greater variety and extent of realistic powers--he'd entered the state at the point in time when the abduction was apparent; it was an emergency measure, to elevate himself in power when faced with such supernatural phenomena of a hostile nature. A thought that should have crossed Dole's mind then was that by imploring a future version of himself to aid him, he might be drawn back to the state of reality where he was being raped by the evil female future version of himself. Additionally, he should have suspected that the person who appeared to be Emily was in fact this future version of himself in disguise. But these thought did not occur to him. So Dolthethmen felt quite grand, there playing the game with his girl nearby him. Not that she was officially his girl yet, but he had a good feeling that she soon would be. He thought, won't it be nice to have her suck me off, won't it be nice to be sexual and naked and with a girl, for a change! Yes, yes indeed. Soon they left the mall and went down to the Noyage Parlour and got a room and watched some movies and had falafels and orzo and kiwi beverage and super chips. There in the dimness of the little room in the Noyage Parlour, Dolthethmen and Emily were getting pretty snug, her legs resting over his, their arms around each other. Hasnafter and Am were likewise positioned. Soon, Am and Hasnafter were kissing and fondling one another, and Dolthethmen felt that he should speed up the process of getting himself and Emily into doing likewise. So he turned his head and sort of nuzzled her shoulder and brushed his lips against her cheek. He felt her whole body shudder and looked in delight as her face turned toward his, and as their lips were moving closer and closer with each nanohour. But in that moment, in that last possible moment before their lips would inevitably touch, right down to wire, all was not well in the immediate environment. There was a loud thud, all the lights and electricity and TV went off, and distant shouts were to be heard. Though Dolthethmen and Emily's lips touched for a moment, the startle they received precluded it being considered a kiss. There, in the uttertotal lack of light, it was Emily who spoke. "What happened?" "I don't know..." Dolthethmen was barely able to blurt out, being that the sudden jolt of adrenaline mixed with his fiery lust hormones caused a state of mental distress and fogginess. "Looks like a power failure," Hasnafter quipped. "But there was a loud noise, and listen--do you hear people yelling?" Am said. "Uh, I don't know," Hasnafter said. "You suppose we should try and get out of here, or just sit tight. Does anyone have a light, or is there a flashlight in here or something?" "My watch has a little light, but I doubt it'd do any good," Dolthethmen mumbled. "We're all non-smokers so I doubt any of us has a match or lighter," Am observed. "I don't have anything," Emily said. "Shouldn't there be emergency lights or something?" Am wondered out loud. "I don't know," Hasnafter said. "But there's something very wrong here. I don't know what going on, but I say we wait and see what's happening--it could be a robbery or something." "Yeah," Dolthethmen said, "let's sit tight until we get a better perspective on what's happening." "I'm scared," Emily said, and clutched Dolthethmen for support. He took her in his long arms and felt the shapes of her lovely breasts against his chest. He wasn't especially concerned with the power outage--he just wanted to get back to Emily's apartment and get naked and get it on. "Don't worry Emily--I've a feeling it's nothing more than a fuse gone out. The power'll most likely be back on in a minute or two," Dolthethmen said, and with that he pulled Emily to him and gently kissed her. She responded by moving closer to him and upping the passion of the kiss that was progressing. He was in heaven, and hoped the lights might stay out for a while. Dolthethmen and Emily kissed in silence for a little but, but the sounds of distant yelling continued, and there was a lack of any noise nearby them--and they knew that there were other people in other rooms around them. Shouldn't someone be yelling or looking around or something? Hasnafter was beginning to get concerned. "Dolthethmen--I have a very bad feeling that something's wrong with reality. You know how you always talk about that--about reality collapsing or folding or whatever--do you think something like that is maybe happening or something?" Hasnafter said with a bit more concern in his voice than might be expected. "Look Hasnafter," Dolthethmen said, parting lips with Emily, "there's been a power failure. It's only been a few minutes, and the other people around in the other rooms and stuff are probably doing what we're doing--relaxing and enjoying the darkness and waiting for the lights to come back on. As far as the yelling, it's probably people out on the street fighting or looting or something." "And that noise?" Am asked. "Probably related to the cause of the blackout. Maybe a truck hit a power line or something. I'm sure there's a rational explanation... not that I don't believe in reality problems, but if it were a reality problem, I think I'd feel it. And I just don't." "Ooh Dole, I'm glad you're here to explain these things," Emily said, almost drunkenly, as she moved back to kissing him. "Well I'm not so sure," Hasnafter said. "And I for one think it's about time to grope our way out of here." "Why?" Dolthethmen said, again pulling away from Emily, "The only reason we'd be in danger is if there was a fire--and I see no indication of that--or if the air supply in here depended upon a ventilation system--and likewise I see no way we could run out of oxygen. Also, if criminals are around, they might find us here--but I think we've a better all-round chance of it in any case to lay low and relax. The lights'll probably be back on any time now." "Well I think Has is right--I think we should get the hell out of here," Am said. "Yeah--I think me and Am are gonna try and get outta here even if you and Emily wanna stay here, Dole," Hasnafter said. "No, no. We should stick together, and if you have to try and get outta here, me and Emily'll accompany you," Dolthethmen said. "I'll go anywhere with you," Emily said dreamily. Dolthethmen thought briefly that he might have overdid it with his love realityalter. Also, he acknowledged that he was much more concerned with sex than love, and he wondered why he was like that. "Well, that's mighty neighborly of you, Dole. I say we wait a little longer and then get going," Hasnafter said. "Fine," Dolthethmen said. Emily moved herself and motioned to Dolthethmen until she was lying down on top of him, kissing him and feeling him. Her hand moved over his clothed form, over his shoulder, down his chest, and finally reaching his groin, gently squeezing his engorged fellow. Please lights, stay off, he demanded of the air. There in the dark making out with Emily, though Has and Am were nearby, was very delightful to Dolthethmen. But all during it he had a terrible feeling that this bliss would be all-too-short and that disaster would certainly soon strike. After a few minutes of smooching and erotic body interpositioning, he heard Emily whisper in his ear: "Oh, Dolthethmen, I was too shy to tell you at work, but I really had a big crush on you. I've thought of you often since you left. Right now, I'm as happy as I can be. Let's get outta here and go to my place. I think you'll like it." Dolthethmen wasn't quite sure what she was referring to about liking--her place or the things they might do together. But, he figured, the way she was talking and acting, they'd be having sex most surely. But the yells from outside were now really worrying Dolthethmen. If it were some kind of major catastrophe, things would be pretty shook up, and he might miss out on the evening of indulgence lying ahead. He considered trying to alter reality, but he was in utterly the wrong mind for it, and couldn't muster an iota of reality expression. It seemed that the raging lust throughout his physical form occluded his more obtuse realityish capabilities. But at this point, they could either wait or brave the dark and try to get out of the Noyage Parlour. "Uh," Dolthethmen said aloud, "hey guys--you think maybe we oughtta try'n get out now? It has been a long time--and it seems certain that someone--a manager or worker or someone--would have come by now--and I know there were a couple of other people in the rooms around us." "Yeah," said Hasnafter, "that's a good idea. let's get going. Uh..." "How're we gonna work this?" Am asked. "Well..." Hasnafter said. "I think we should all get up and move over to the door, then move down the hall and up the stairs, hand in hand, against the wall. When we get to the stairs we should see the light from the street," said Dolthethmen. "What if the lights are all out on the street too?" Am asked. "Well," Dolthethmen answered, "I don't know. I guess there should be some cars or something out there. I dunno." "What we really need is a light source," Hasnafter commented. "I know, but we haven't any," Dolthethmen said. "And anyway, even if it's pitch black outside, we should still be able to find our way to our cars and get the hell outta here." "But I sure wonder what's going on," Am said. "Me too," Hasnafter said. "Well, let's go and find out," said Dolthethmen. "Ooh, my hero," Emily said softly. "But," Am began "like, what if it's just normal outside and we all just suddenly went blind or something?" "Oh that's silly," Hasnafter said, "the TV went off the same time the lights did. At least--the sound went off. How can you explain that?" "I dunno--some kind of wave or something--knocking out the TV and our vision at the same time?" Am said. "Okay, we don't need to have this conversation any longer," Dolthethmen said, "I have a little light on my watch--here," he turned the light on his watch on, "now I'm sure we can all see this, so we're not blind. Not that it wasn't a possibility." "Yeah," Am said, "It was just an idea." "Whatever," Dolthethmen said, "I say lets all grab hands now and move out the door." "In what order?" Am asked. "Well," Dolthethmen said, "It doesn't matter. But if you think we're gonna face some sort of threat, I suppose me and Has should go first, since we're physically stronger than you girls." "Hey!" Emily said. "Physically stronger, dear. Now that's a fact," Dolthethmen said. "I'm stronger than Has," Emily said. "Well okay, if that's so, then I suppose you and me should go first," Dolthethmen said. "How do you know I'm not stronger than you?" Emily asked of Dolthethmen. "Well I don't know--but if you're a normal human girl with the build you've got--there's really no way you're stronger than me--or Hasnafter for that matter. It's just a matter of nature and genetics and all that shit." "Well I am stronger, and I am human," Emily said. "Look guys, let's just get going, huh? I'll go first since I'm obviously the weakest one--you strong people should guard the rear, since in the dark, fiends usually sneak up on you and don't come from the front," Am said. "Okay," Dolthethmen said, "you go first, then Has, then me, and then Emily, since she's the strongest." "I am," said Emily. With this they fumbled around in the dark, and Dolthethmen found Hasnafter's hand and they stumbled together off the couch and to the door. "Well, at least the door's still here," Am said. "Great. Now open it," Dolthethmen said. Am slowly rotated the doorknob and then opened the door a crack. "Hello?" she inquired of the hallway. There was no response. "Let's go and face that which awaits us," Dolthethmen said. I used to not know what happened after that, but now I do. -SR- ============================== CUPLINE 34: DOLTHETHMEN CUPLINE'S END ============================== ============================== END ============================== SEVERE REPAIR: THE BROKEN TEXT A Science Fiction Story (approx. 1,000 pages) by Frank Edward Nora ==============================