War of Realities (Redone and Improved)

[Maharg67]

Thanks, Gormonk! I am trying very hard to make the story better.

 

18^th

THE YOUNG THIRTEEN

SEVEN STORIES

 

OF THE YOUNG THIRTEEN, THE LONE ONE

 

The youthful, tough looking woman stepped from the big atomic motorised Landliner coach, armoured against urban violence and now with added protection, to stand looking towards Arefu proper. Arefu was built on, in and even under a massive highway bridge with two monorail lines, cycleways, footpaths and even tourist facilities. Except now it was a major settlement built up over the use of trade convoys, smaller trade caravans and other travel across the great bridge. A mighty waters swept beneath the bridge, the Potomac River itself.

 

The stop-over was at the foot of the Arefu Bridge on the south-western side of the river, fortified and with a ring of solid structures. She looked to a local diner meant for travellers and others passing through. A pair of Arefu Guards stood there in body-armour and with rifles, one a bolt-action hunting rifle and the other a 5.5mm autorifle of NeoSoviet design but probably local manufacture.

 

The Wastelands Wanderer was aware that the True Family, a group of what she called quasivampires, was causing troubles for Arefu. There had been a raid on a farm and valuable brahmins had been butchered. A patrol of three guards had been ambushed, beaten and the woman molested but then they were released. Odd thing was that it was another quasivampire who had rescued the guards.

 

She was the Wastelands Wanderer pretending to be a young, tough freelance journalist, artist and almanac story writer. Indeed she had done the role before and had it down smooth. Her name was Charlie Jane but she was also Calamity Jane, a woman sharpshooter, gunslinger and bounty-hunter. In her right hand she held a lever-action rifle in its rifle scabbard and in her left hand a dufflebag. On her back was a fairly large backpack. At her hips were two large, powerful revolver-pistols in well used but well cared for holsters.

 

Convoy was made up of five big atomic coach vehicles though two were Landliners, two were Landfreighters and two were armoured protection machines. People were getting out and stretching, preparing for a couple hours of stop over time but she was not getting back on the convoy. Ironically the convoy would not be crossing the Arefu Bridge but we travelling onwards before crossing the river. The Arefu Town Council had gotten too greedy with its toll fees and the settlement was starting to pay the price.

 

She headed for the diner and was aware that a few men there were sizing up for a range of reasons but mostly to see if they could seduce her or if she was a threat.

 

OF THE YOUNG THIRTEEN, THE TWINS IN THE PATRIOT REPUBLIC

 

Boris and Ivan the twins were at home, were at the plantation with its big, thick walls and armed guards. Their family grew valuable yutzga pods that were broken down, processed and used in a wide range of ways but mostly as a major ingredient in a special kind of paper, biofuel, fertilisers and plastic. This was the major plantation, the actual mansion estate, where poor folk were worked hard for little pay. The twins hated this exploitation and other inequalities of the Patriot Republic of the Central Patriot Island.

 

On that day they were riding horses through the plantation, were pretending to be just out for a relaxing ride and, to some extent, this was true. They paused every so often and talked with local workers, be they overseers or guards or lowly pickers. The pickers did other jobs also but picking the jagged skinned yutzga pods caused sores and sometimes horrible allergic reactions.

 

Boris kept a watch out as Ivan gave a young woman a bag full of medicines as serums and pills in small plastic bottles. Their family elders would not like this, thanks to some kind of perverse fears and traditions, but the twins did not care. The young woman was a rebel and secretly a doctor where doctors were not welcome. The only allowed doctor was a perverted old fool of a man who the twins intended to kill one day thanks to the old fool’s past crimes.

 

It did not hurt that they both had a mild crush on her and that she enjoyed their attentions, that she never said ‘no’. Yet they were not fools and knew she was first of all a follower of the People’s Liberation Front.

 

They each kissed her before they set out again on their ride.

 

OF THE YOUNG THIRTEEN, THE TWINS IN LIFEVAULT-0101

 

Radroaches came rushing down the big vent shaft towards the twins all wild and ready to attack but then they slowed to a halt in front of Aarie and Aaron. They turned after a moment of hesitation and darted into a secondary, smaller vent tube and were soon leaving the vault to go into radroach friendly caverns. The twins did not like to kill anything if there was another option and in this case it was a better one.

 

The pair were almost sixteen, young and slimly muscular, attractive and resourceful. They also had weapons and body-armour in case it was needed but, in their case, it was not needed.

 

OF THE YOUNG THIRTEEN, THE TWINS IN RAVEN ROCK

 

EagleEnclave scientists sometimes let the twins walk amongst the less classified laboratories as long as they did not ask foolish questions. The twins there in Raven Rock, the hidden underground fortress in the DC Wastelands, asked no such questions but observed quietly the often hideous experiments done on creatures and, sometimes, on captured humans of the Wastelands. When they could, they secretly intervened and put victims out of their misery, but they often could do little.

 

They walked amongst big upright cylinders were distorted humans and other creatures were to be found. There were humans and other creatures lain out on tilting metallic tables of varied sizes. What the scientists were actually doing was at first confusing until the twins realised much of the time the so called geniuses were often stumbling along and trying to invent reasons for their work to continue. They were trying to create new biotech weapons to defeat various enemies, especially the hated Orders of Steel, and to fully conquer the old USA and URGA with.

 

The twins could have helped, being super geniuses, but would not do so.

 

OF THE YOUNG THIRTEEN, A LONE TWIN IN MEGATON

 

Tomkie was alone in Megaton, the crazy settlement with a crater at its centre and that was inside a bigger crater, that was made partly of aeroplane parts. He was alone but he dreamed special dreams of his lost twin sister and the neobaby that had been with them. He knew, in his subconcious, that one day they would be returned to him in a very exotic fashion. As he waited he would visit Professor Brown up in the aeroplane cockpit and cabin balanced above part of Megaton, where he would use a fairly big telescope to view the stars. He would play chess with the kindly but, at core, tough old man. The Proff, as he was often called in Megaton, was the father of Moira Brown, the crazy but brilliant inventor and survival investigator plus owner of the Craterside Emporium of Special Goods and Supplies. Tomkie would assist her at times and gained the bonus of seeing her bustle around in tight white panties and a tight white undershirt.

 

OF THE YOUNG THIRTEEN, THE TWINS IN TRANQUILLITY TOWN

 

Tranquillity Town, Professor Braun's insanity of super virtual reality, his playground of domination and sadistic manipulation, looked much like any 2060s to 2070s town. Except that it was a town in trouble with much of it in ruins, with the Town Council being barely in control of itself let alone the settlement and it had many problems. Professor Braun, he liked to be called the PlayMaster, preferred confusion and disorder which allowed him to better manipulate others. Everything there was not real except for the captive mentalities of the victims and Braun's insane mentality at its core.

 

The twins were hunting rogue killer robots set loose by the PlayMaster against a particular housing estate where the folks were already struggling against fast growing, tough to kill super weeds and packs of roving savage hounds. Braun loved to make it that weapons of self defence were unreliable as were anything else the people might use to try to protect themselves, to improve themselves. Medicines would make things worse, rifles would jam at a critical moment, security robots would turn against they were supposed to protect as would guard dogs. Families would be broken up by clever made pressures and trickeries. It went on and it had to be stopped.

 

Rogue robots! The twins crept through the weeds that gave them no problem as the stuff did to others. They aimed their exotic guns at the crazy protectrons marching in murderous groups through the estate, shot them with odd pulses of computer viruses and other tricks, causing the robots then to turn protective of the locals. Their colouration changed to prove it, to guady green from awaful depressing grey, and they would march off on their new cause to spread the viruses and other tricks to more robots.

 

In stealth power armour, the twins crouched and watched, knowing only too well that they needed to do more against Braun to end his cruel madness.

 

OF THE YOUNG THIRTEEN, TWINS IN AN ORMAN SETTLEMENT

 

The twins, both females, did what they could to be accepted by the deeply religious Orthodox Ormans amongst the settlement population but they were never fully accepted by most. The priestess and priest of the settlement looked upon the twins as evil intruders brought into the community through the trick of the Second Devil of the Seven Devils as believed in by the Ormonic Faith of the Holy Vault. The people had been warned not to build a settlement there but the settlers were desperate to find good farming, grazing lands and those lands were good by the standards of the DC Wastelands. Warnings of giant ants did not go totally unheeded for the construction of a five roomed bunker shelter was begun, based on three basement chambers still surviving with surprising strength. The twins helped design the five chambered bunker to make it better while using limited resources and a few folk became more positive towards them because of it.

 

The twins, their neobaby, their animal companions, were well cared for by their family but never truly loved. The foster parents were sterile until the twins secretly fixed this but then the foster parents were focusing much of their affections on their born children. Believing that the Ormonic God and the Seven Arch-Angels had brought them 'grace of fertility', they became more religious and yet no less protective of the twins.

 

The twins sensed coming danger on that day and made preperations for their own escape. They went to the strange little baby girl who controlled ants and they noted that she was more agitated than usual and that she was extruding phermones of some kind. They could sense this, could even 'smell' it. They knew danger was coming but could do little about it for if they tried to warn people openly, they could easily be branded as witches. Not wanting to be stoned to death, they did not do this. Instead they moved casually around the small settlement and quietly influenced the minds of folks, causing them to improve defences and to speed up the finishing touches to the bunker retreat.

 

It was a warm day and hawks circled high overhead, attracted by the chickens in their coops.

 

TO BE CONTINUED

 

Edited July 14, 2010 by Maharg67

[Maharg67]

19^th

ATTACK OF THE GIANT ANTS

THE BIRTH OF THE ANTAGONIZER

 

Part 1

 

The giant ants were not really giant ants for they had skeletons and lungs of sorts along with their exoskeletons and armour plating. The big two metre long soldiers came swarming over the stockade of long abandoned vehicles, drums and other gathered stuff. The settlers fell back firing basic shotguns, rifles, revolver pistols and two jury-rigged flamers. Ant soldiers exploded into flames but others took their place. One man used a longbow with amazing deadliness, firing flaming arrows that set the monsters aflame.

 

The settlers had been warned that the area was too dangerous to settle in, that the low rad count and fertile earth, along with low rad well water, was not enough to risk it. The settlers had been desperate and they had ignored the warnings. Instead they had hoped that the barriers, some guns and two home made flamers would do the trick.

 

The giant ants were surprisingly quick and strong though they could not lift many times their own weight as normal, small ants could. They spat toxic venom and their pincers were terrible and strong. A man screamed as a glob of toxic venom engulfed his face. He fell to the ground, shuddered and died.

 

Firing guns and shooting arrows, the settlers fell back. Some panicked, turned and fled, dropping their weapons as they did. One fell as toxic glob splashed into her back, burning and soaking through her shirt so that soon she was lifeless.

 

The settlers were overwhelmed as more and more of the monstrous insects swarmed over the wall in a seeming endless stream. The worker ants did not spit toxic gloop and they were smaller with smaller pincers but there were more of them. Before the penned up goats and brahmins could escape, or the cooped up chickens, they were devoured.

 

Part 2

 

Two teenagers, a baby boy, a horse and two dogs fled along with a young cat that staid in a basket. As they walked quickly through the wilderness feeling frightened and alone, the teens did not turn back to watch the swarms of giant ants devouring the last of their people. The last gun shots were heard, the last scream and then there was only dreadful silence.

 

They hurried along hoping that the recently completed bunker type shelter beneath the settlement had saved at least some lives. It had been built against the threat of mutated monstrous animals, bandits and others but mostly against the giant ants that the settlers had been warned against. The twins had designed its five chamber layout and had cleverly used what limited resources the settlers had to the best advantage. They had fled because their parents, who had adopted the wandering twins and their companions, had made them go even as the first of the giant ants had attacked. Why, because the parents feared the twins would not be allowed into the shelter by the settlers who where all fanatically religious Ormans.

 

They were surprised that no giant ants chased after them but then again the giant ants were functioning smoothly as a group and focusing on the prize in the settlement, the special prize that the twins knew about only too much.

 

They did not see a very quiet, odd young girl being carefully picked up by a worker ant and carried off. The infant, an older baby, was gently taken and was sung to in giant ant fashion, a sound that soothed the small one, a sound that most humans would not even hear. Yet if they had seen this happening, they would not have been surprised.

 

Part 3

 

The DarkZiazin stood viewing the scene at a safe distance, a hunched figure in a black robe and with pale clammy white skin holding a long, thin, metallic wooden staff of mixed ashen black and brown colours. The figure had followers but they were concealed in surrounding undergrowth beneath the mutated sharp edge leafed trees that covered the top of the hill. He ignored everything else but the giant ants and the strange girl infant that the giant ants were carrying off. Thus he missed something of great importance.

 

He had undertaken many small operations of the DarkSeeding but too many had failed, had gone astray, but now this was going to be one of his triumphs. He cackled and spittle flew out of his mouth over his crooked yellow teeth. He wiped spittle off his chin with a wrinkled pale hand that was a great deal stronger than it looked as he was generally.

 

A big radscorpion made the mistake of coming up from a tunnel too close to the DarkZiazin. He whirled and threw his staff with amazing speed, power and accuracy. The staff struck the monstrous creature and the radscorpion died at once, it being wreathed in strange pale flames and with the stuff sticking out of its body, spear like. The DarkZiazin giggled insanely, ran over and gripped the strange metallic wooden staff. Life energies flowed from the victim into his body and he writhed with sick pleasure, with relief that his nagging pain was soothed for a while.

 

When the radscorpion was ash, he carefully covered it with dirt and then sat on a large boulder, resting. He only paused to give one robe clad buttock a goodly scratching.

 

TO BE CONTINUED

Edited July 14, 2010 by Maharg67

[Maharg67]

20^th

JUST ONE MORE FIREFIGHT?

REGULATORS VERSUS SLAVERS VERSUS?

 

Part 1

 

Two Regulators, part of a squad of the oldest organised police force in the DC Wastelands since Doomsday, clambered up the rubble slope. Bullets exploded in other areas off away from them as the slavers tried to pick off their enemies who were Regulators deliberately drawing their fire. Slavers, prime humans, had a chain-line of ghoul slaves, some saddle-horses and pack-horses. The exhausted and beaten ghouls lay sprawled on the ground trying to find as much cover as possible where there was no real cover.

 

In their famous dustcoats and underneath flexikevlar armour, the Regulators moved quickly and efficiently. Three women and two men, the five of them were well armed with combination DCguns or DCTek manufactured Autoblazer autorifles, each with a built in fold-down bayonet, a torch and a bottle-opener. Why the bonus bottle-opener, nobody but DCTek was sure but it was handy enough.

 

In the distance was Slavetown, an outpost to Paradise Deep and a stop-over of secondary slave caravans moving through more difficult and isolated terrain. Slavetown smelt of oppression, murder and violation. It was in appearance little more than a cracked but mostly standing smart-concrete dome with crude gun-positions bolted to its shell and just visible the large main power-gate.

 

Part 2

 

Regulator Captain Keller achieved the top of the slope on her belly and aimed her DCgun of 5.5mm autocarbine and 30mm grenade-shell launcher. She noted a bunch of slavers bunched stupidly close to each other in their fleximetallic armour, over confident and used to taking on lesser armed, trained and experienced fighters. She grinned, lobbed a shrapnel-shredder grenade-shell amongst them and dropped down for cover. There was the blast of an explosion and then the screaming of a badly wounded slaver. A single shot ended his misery as another slaver killed him because he would just slow the still fighting slavers down. It was typical slaver mentality.

 

Another Regulator came up beside her, a demighoul with only some visible marks of ghoulification. Demighouls had only relatively few marks, semighoul were about halfway between them and ghouls proper. Most ghouls hated slavers for the great majority of slaves were ghouls. Slavers were never ghouls or semighouls and only rarely were they demighouls.

 

The big, strong and tough looking Jack’O’Man spoke. “We got most of them. There are three of them just over there. One shot the dying man. Slaver brutality is quite consistently extreme.”

 

She frowned at him. “You would know that better than me since you spent your childhood as a slave in the infamous Blackdown Mines. Sonora Cruz will accept your idea of forming a Regulator centred antislaver force. The way she has spent so much time and effort considering the matter is a very good indicator of it being so.”

 

He caught some motion, aimed his Autoblazer and let loose a volley of 5.5mm bullets that struck a stupid slaver trying to make a run for it. The ambush had worked perfectly and another bullet from another Regulator struck the same raggedy armoured woman. She dropped, already dead before she sprawled across the ground and dropped her own Autoblazer. Slavers were getting such weapons cheap from DCTek in the Patriot Islands and Regulators were getting such weapons from dead or captured slavers. When the Regulators had once communicated with DCTek about buying the same types of weapons, out of curiosity, the demanded price was twice as big as that which the slavers had to pay.

 

DCguns were manufactured by DCCorp, a corporation based in the sprawling five linked ship and three big jetty based settlement of RivetCity. DCCorp and DCTek were staunch commercial enemies but DCTek was nastier while DCCorp was more honest and better trusted by most DC Wastelanders.

 

Part 3

 

The last two slavers were still hidden behind a broken smashed bit of vehicle, perhaps part of a kind of hulking atomic motorised coach known as a Landliner, a kind of transport often used in the Patriot DC of the 2060s and 2070s but not often seen outside of that place. Such vehicles had been so successful that a freight carrying version known as a Landfreighter was also common. A Landfreighter lay on its side a distance behind the slavers.

 

“Will they make a break for it?” Regulator Captain Keller snorted in irritation. “I hope they make up their minds soon. Those ghouls look in a sorry state. We have double bounties to gather.”

 

Every freed slave gained a basic bounty but every ex-slave ghoul delivered safely to the Smithsonian Museum of Religious and Spiritual History, the SMRSH, gained an extra basic bounty. The ghouls had an outpost in the Dante Exhibition at the museum, a kind of ironic jest perhaps. From there, it was whispered, secret ways led to the mysterious Ghoul Underworld.

 

Jack’O’Man winced as he sensed some sudden disturbance in what could be called the local psychic resonance fields. Then he shivered. Something powerful and strange had appeared out there, out of view, for just a moment and the two slavers were gone. He cursed softly. Then he responded to the puzzled and concerned Keller. “The slavers have disappeared. Something has taken them.”

 

Regulators came from different directions, soon confirming what Jack’O’Man had sensed, that the slavers were gone and only their dropped weapons remained along with some other items including two much used and patched backpacks. Even with both saddle and pack-horses, compact backpacks were also used in the Wastelands.

 

There was a light spread of burn mark on the rocky ground where the two slavers had crouched and that was all. Jack’O’Man crouched and sniffed the air even as he floated his fingers through the air just above the burn marks. Then he frowned before he spoke. “We need to take 3Dvideo of this spot and other measurements, recordings of data. This is not good at all, not good. This is not Regulator stuff to deal with. This needs the Sisterhood of the Way and the Order of Metaphysics if not those new Orders of Steel that have come from the west.”

 

She frowned. “Can I have some details, please.”

 

“Eaters’O’Evil is what they are properly called but most folk know them as Eaters of Evil or Takers of Evil or by a few other terms.” He stood up slowly and stretched. “I say we do this as quickly as possible, take what loot we can and bury the rest, have coffee, some food and make our way straight to the nearest settlement or outpost with good 2way communications.”

 

Keller scowled. “So they are devoured, flesh and life force.”

 

“No, not devoured in that sense. They will return but they will be very changed.” Jack’O’Man shook his head a little. “As for now there is not much more that I can say. No, I can tell you this much, if Eaters’O’Evil are here in the DC Wastelands, then other exotic entities are here also and there is something far darker here now than such as mutants, raiders and slavers.”

 

Part 4

 

They had only just set out but there was good official reason enough to go back with the need to get the ghouls to proper care. Already Regulators were giving the ghouls highly nutritional but dull gruel that they could digest with out throwing it up. They were also being given medical attention and were being allowed to pick some items each from the loot taken from the slavers including knives, coins, ambacco, meltgum and a few others, some of them rather surprising.

 

RivetCity was part of the River Union of the settlements of RivetCity, Rivertane, JettyTown, Wishram, MarinaBoa and the Potomac Isles. The Potomac River was far larger than it had been before President James Patriot Jackson had transformed the DC and now it flowed through the DC instead of at its borders as it once did. The big river widened as it got closer to the ocean and at that point were a string of river islands known as the Potomac Isles. All of the other settlements of the River Union ran, on either shoreline, between the Potomac Isles and RivetCity. RivetCity and the Potomac Isles were the biggest and most powerful of the River Union Settlements.

 

Of course the Regulators knew this as, apart from the Northern HQ disguised as a farm roughly up to the north-east, there were Regulator Outposts in every River Union settlement and the Southern HQ was on one of the Potamic Isles. Marshal Cruz was in the Southern HQ at that time but would be meeting Jack’O’Man.

 

TO BE CONTINUED

Edited July 14, 2010 by Maharg67

[Maharg67]

21^st

ABRAHAM WASHINGTON

AT THE RIVETCITY MUSEUM OF DC HISTORY

 

Part 1

 

Junk? Some said his museum was just a chamber full of junk but such stories were more true about his early efforts. Now it was a place of neat armaglass and metal display cases, locked and otherwise secured, in neat formations. Clear laneways ran between them. The museum chambers were part of what used to be a coastal liner of the 2060s in design and manufacture when the growing isolation of North America and other changes made coastal vessels more useful in various ways. Such ships serviced new type coastal waters floating bubble cities, FBCs, and continental shelf undersea dome cities, or UDCs. They were also part of the oceanic reseeding program with the unleashing of thousands of cloned fish and other lifeforms into the Atlantic and Pacific Ocean. President James Patriot Jackson’s strong support of such programs was on the list of his good deeds for the world.

 

Abraham Washington stopped and smiled at the Oceanic Seeding Program Display he had designed and helped to create. There were scale models, posters from the time, a sea-seeder robot like a chunky lightly elongated globe, some 3Dbooks, a colourful 3Dmap of glossy plastic-paper and a few other items, including an old style map of the Delaware Coastline that became the DC Delaware Coastline.

 

Behind him was the main entrance to the museum and that chamber, the Entrance Lobby where there was the counter where Doris, Trev or Memar took turns selling cheap entry tickets to those who could afford them, selling some goodies or even souvenirs. There was this newly finished display but on another wall was a locked armaglass display of various DC Wastelands weapons.

 

The display had some jury rigged zipguns, a crude made crossbow, a .32 calibre revolver-pistol (spinpistol), a combat knife alongside its sheaf, a cut off double-boomer, a chunky old fashioned pulselaser pistol, a cattleprod like zhoul-prod and a 5.5mm submachinegun. None of the weapons were functional, were dangerous to use, but people had tried to steal them anyway.

 

Other items dotted the big chamber. There was a life like figure of President James Patriot Jackson, a bust of Abraham Lincoln, a plastic squat saucer of a lifeboat, a life like woman mannequin with a dress plus other 2076 fashions gear on, paintings in wooden frames and a protectron. The protectron was a real working robot but as an early prototype had no weapons and was only semiactivated so its lights could blink in an entertaining fashion.

 

One might assume that historical items were considered to be useless and not worth anything in the way of EIDs or tradegoods. The existence of Tenpenny and other powerful, wealthy collectors made this a false idea. Tenpenny would love nothing better than to strip the RivetCity Museum of all of its best exhibition items and to spend the least amount of wealth to do so.

 

Part 2

 

There was a sound, a clumsy moment for the intruders. Abraham Washington sighed. He could sense the intruders. They were more highly experienced, better trained and more skilled than thugs but they were not elite killers. These were mostly like brutal thieves. Question was how had they gotten into the museum. Only he, two members of his staff and security had keys to the normal power-doors of the museum.

 

He looked and acted like a quite droll moderate sized man, rather dull in most ways except when speaking about his museum. Most people did not even question the truth of this appearance.

 

Sensing the throwing knife shoot through the air towards him, he whirled and grabbed it smoothly by the handle. He moved so quickly the motion was invisible. Then he was throwing the weapon. The first man died as the knife thudded into his throat. He collapsed towards the metallic floor.

 

Then he saw a big man holding a shorter, slimmer woman security woman who was barely conscious. He was holding her by gripping one of her breasts through her uniform and it was clear what his intentions were. Even as his fellow thug died, he lost his grin and went to raise his 3.5mm autopistol, a NeoSoviet weapon with a calibre that was particular to them but was now found through out the DC Wastelands in fairly high quantities; it was a 2020s designed calibre that was quite lethal for its size.

 

Abraham raised his hand, formed a pistol with the hand, and from his pistol finger shot a pencil thin beam of energy, flickering on and off. It looked almost like a pulselaser beam but it was a pulseblaster pulsebeam. A pulseblaster was a far more advanced and effective weapon than a pulselaser and also more compact.

 

Even as this man died, the third thug, a brutish looking woman, raised her pump-boomer to unleash a 12 gauge shotgun shell. Like bullets, in the 2020s shotgun shells had been improved in various ways but they could still be fired from older style shotguns; this was not accidental.

 

Then all three intruders were dead but others were coming through the door. Except that they were halted as gunfire broke out, as RivetCity security and defence guards attacked swiftly and with deadly effort. The guards were fighting in their own terrain. Except all of these guards were actually, in secret, devoted followers of Abraham Washington and the report of what had happened would be falsified. The two thugs killed by pulsebeams would not officially exist. Their bodies would vanish. Their gear would be recycled. The captive young security guard, the key had been taken from her, would have her recent memories erased and perhaps replaced.

 

Part 3

 

The tall, elegant woman walked into the chamber from an inner door. She frowned softly. Memar spoke with a strong, fluid voice but in a strange language unlike anything spoken on that world. “Tenpenny?”

 

Abraham shook his head just a little. “Tenpenny is a cunning brute but also quite intelligent and highly educated even in the art of espionage and robbery. He would not attempt something so clumsy as this.”

 

Memar nodded. “Unless he became desperate to get his hands on something he considered vital for that insane collection of his.”

 

“Perhaps!” Abraham turned to Memar, who was one of his prime followers. “We need to keep an open mind on this matter, a very open mind. My guess is that none of the fools would know who employed them. I scanswept their minds as much as possible. Such confusion, such anger, such pain, such filth, it was not a kind of experience that is ever enjoyable though often educational. They were sent here to kill me and to get that.”

 

He turned and pointed to the life like figure of President James Patriot Jackson and then strode over to it. He traced his hands through the air around it. It was a figure brought in very recently by some treasure hunters under contract to him and as yet he had not had time to carefully examine it.

 

He frowned softly and stepped back away from the figure. Then he spoke in the language known as Esperanto. “Who loves United States of America President James Patriot Jackson more than the people do? They love him more than they do World President Asdza Amend, a foolish woman with a North American first name and a Jewish surname.” Then he switched to English. “Traitors beware for President James Patriot Jackson has a great plan for the future. One, two, four, eight, sixteen, thirty-two, sixty-four, backgammon.”

 

The figure shivered and seemed to become even more life like. It was a very cleverly made and sophisticated android copy of the Mad American President. Three Mad Presidents had, between them, led the world to Doomsday. They had been the American, the World and the NeoSoviet Presidents.

 

Then the android spoke in a very good copy of the real voice of President James Patriot Jackson. “You have fully activated me too late. My calendar-clock indicates that I should have been fully activated in 2099 when the first stage of Project Patriot Progression was to be launched. I am PJPa021. This is not where I was put into secured status storage and where I should have been fully activated. You are now programmed as my project mentor and team commander. What do you command?”

 

Abraham Washington nodded. “Become semiactive again.”

 

PJPa021 did so.

 

Abraham turned to the woman. “We need to take great care in how we try to get data from this android. It is cleverly programmed with many triggers to wipe the data if the wrong thing is said to it or the wrong thing is done in front of it.”

 

Memar smiled. “I will take it down to the Ye’VreOne and have it replaced with a normal display figure of President James Patriot Jackson so that people do not notice any difference with the displays.”

 

TO BE CONTINUED

Edited July 14, 2010 by Maharg67

[Maharg67]

22^nd

LIFEVAULT-0101 TROUBLES

AARIE AND AARON'S SIXTEENTH BIRTHDAY PARTY

 

Part 1

 

Alarms were ringing through out LifeVault-0101 as the one hundred thousand active population were warning of another radroach intrusion. Exterminators serving the Office of Biological Defence would be responding in vault power armour, heavier than scout or steal but lighter than standard power armour, and be using flamers, sprayers, dartlers, large cattleprods and shotguns with other weapons backing them up. It was proven that the specified weapons were the best against radroaches in enclosed spaces such as utility tunnels and the big vent shafts. They would be backed up by bugbot robots and specialised roboremote units.

 

If the need arose they would be even be assisted by the LifeVault-0101 Vault Guards, the relatively small but well trained and equipped vault defence force. Then there were the poorly trained, poorly equipped Citizen Defence Service, the CDS that was made up of volunteers. With security guards, law officers and uniformed security intelligence officers, they would go into action in any desperate last ditch attempt to save the vault if such was necessary. Everybody hoped that it would never be so.

 

To make matters more problematic, other infestations were taking place be they much more normal sized but hard to kill cockroaches, black rats, bigger mutated radrats, deathspiders and other things crawling, scuttling, flittering or even slithering. LifeVault-0101 was suffering problems but nobody, it seemed, had managed to find out just how or where the troublesome critters were getting into the supposedly sealed off vault.

 

Part 2

 

Aarie and Aaron were having their sixteenth birthday, as organised by their good friend Amata. When everybody cried out ‘happy birthday’ the twins looked dutifully surprised with some good acting. Amata Almodovar had alerted them secretly so they would not say anything foolish for her father, the High Overseer Alphonse Almodovar would be there. That meant that there would be a few guests going because of him rather than the twins. Still this meant some fine gifts would be given to the twins.

 

Aarie and Aaron were dark blondes with pale blue eyes and lightly dusky white skin that looked as if it was tanned but it wasn’t. They appeared much as their father and sister did except James and Jasmine had light blonde hair and dark blue eyes along with fairer skin. The answer to this was simple. Aarie and Aaron as seven year olds had been found by James in the DC Wastelands as he had been scouting, with other Vaultfolk, in the Jagged Crater. There had been more to the story than that. James had a baby girl with him that had been born outside of the vault during his three year long scouting mission but he had never told the twins of how he had come to be with the baby. Two other Vaultfolk, both women, had been with James, they being Alison and Beatrice.

 

The cafeteria had been previously abandoned but with increasing numbers of people taken out of status to deal with slowly but steadily growing crisis, the chamber was being fixed up, refitted and otherwise prepared for use. All the fixed wall-booths were fine but only a fifth of the round or long tables were in place with their chairs. Waittrons thudded back and forth on their robotic feet carrying trays of goodies. Colourful balloons, streamers and party hats were common. Adults, probationary adults (pro-ads) and children were there.

 

Vaultdroids, androids with short purple hair, skin, eyes and jumpsuits, were also assisting. The purple jumpsuits were duller and darker in colour than the bodies.

 

Part 3

 

The cheering was loud from all of the crowds. Amata came racing over to the twins in her dark dull pink jumpsuit of the kind normally worn by females older than babies. Most men wore dull, dark blue jumpsuits. On each shoulder, chest and back was the label LifeVault-0101 and below that a Citizen Code label-strip that could be removed fairly easily and replaced.

 

Then their father, Professor James Ashworth, came striding over to them with their younger sister, Jasmine. This was a double surprise for Jasmine was not often allowed to leave the Psychic Evaluation and Regulation Centre; the PERC was a fairly comfortable prison for powerful psychic individuals unlucky enough to be discovered by Vaultgov (Vault Government). Two PERC security guards followed father and Jasmine at a respectful distance behind because they did not want to interfere in private matters.

 

They looked at their father and the twins sensed that this really was him. What was going on? He tried to hide it but James was tired and also worried but he tried to put a façade of good cheer on his face.

 

Amata spoke then as she held a carrybag that was noticeably full. “As the ARVCC (Acceptable Regulated Vault Cultural Code) states, for every year lived out of status, you gain one gift. So you each have sixteen gifts coming to you. I am now going to give you your first gift each.”

 

She then opened up the carrybag and passed to each of them a thick toonbook, a book full of 3Dtoostrip stories. To Aarie went the CAPTAIN COSMOS 2074 ANNUAL with 3Dpictures on the cover. To Aaron went the GROGNAK THE BARBARIAN 2071 ANNUAL. The twins would be amused by the 3Dtoonbooks but the important items were the things smuggled inside the annuals.

 

How did teenagers carry out a plan to overtake the vault? The conspiracy did not quite know yet because they hadn’t worked things out. They had picked up vague whispers of the existence of at least one adult rebel cell-network but nothing at all concrete.

 

Amata departed soon after to race off and supervise the food and drink side-tables. In truth she had spotted the Tunnel Snakes, a teenage gang, trying to take more than their fair share of both.

 

James then spoke. “You do not speak but I need to know something so please just nod. Do you have psychic abilities of great potential?”

 

After a short pause, both of the twins nodded.

 

Then Aarie smiled and she spoke. “Today and from now on we can speak though our memories are still vague.”

 

James looked shocked and then he shook his head in wonder. Jasmine just smiled, seemingly not at all surprised.

 

Aaron spoke then. “How did you duplicate yourself recently? That was not you.”

 

James shook his head. “All in due time. I suspect that we both have much to tell each other. Jasmine has gained more freedom. Now she can live with me but sometimes stay overnight with you, if you do not mind.”

 

Aaron took his younger sister by the hips and easily hefted her into the air. She laughed softly and he spoke. “Jasmine is always welcome.” Then he lowered her down gently to the floor.

 

Jasmine smiled. “There is so much I want to do now I am out of fulltime PERC care, though I must attend there three days a week as an out-client and sometimes overnight for special tests.” She grimaced. “Things have gotten better since Professor Amrong died of a heart attack. He was such a monster, him and his medical examinations.”

 

Her father scowled. “Yes, he will no longer be giving such medical examinations to children. Let us return to the celebrations at hand.”

 

Part 4

 

Sixteen years old! They got their first standard pipboy and pipgirl from a grinning Amata’s father who announced that upon giving up their training pipboy and pipgirl, that they would now be doing a much fuller program of work duties. The High Overseer was wary of the twins but he also openly admired their high abilities. The pipbands were counted as gifts from the vault, the second birthday gift gained by each one of them.

 

James gave them each an old fashioned but well designed and made 2.5mm foldagun, a compact survival carbine that could fold up to be even more compact. The 2.5mm was a survival calibre, not a military one proper, as first manufactured in the 2020s, and yet it could kill even humans given the right conditions. Such could terminate radroaches rather nicely.

 

So it was that they got their third gifts and learned that they were now placed in a CDST, a Citizen Defence Service Team, for training and practise. They would have access to facilities like a target range that always had long waiting lists, overcrowded training centres and virtual reality capsulechairs that were also in shortages. They were pleased when James announced he and others had managed to build a jury-rigged but workable target range in an old unused side chamber.

 

Beatrice came ambling peacefully towards them with a baby like figure in a baby-pouch against her waist. It was Appie the neobaby who she had been happily looking after for a couple of hours. Appie was passed over, baby-pouch and all, to Aarie who soon had him sleepy but awake looking in wonder around the big room. He was oddly chubby muscular as neobabies tended to be. He had many features in common with the twins including eyes, hair and skin though the hair was baby like. Aarie kissed him softly on the head and he gurbled happily in response.

 

Beatrice gave them a poem each written on home industry (home made) paper. Home industries were increasingly important to the vault with citizens doing what they could to assist against growing shortages and other problems. The poems were a little on the weird side, though otherwise well written, but more importantly they were coded messages. Beatrice was thought of generally as being harmless and eccentric, a reader of tarot cards and palms along with a poet. Yet she had always been involved with the shadier side of vault security intelligence and had even been outside the vault proper, though not to the surface. What would have shocked many people was that she was a trained assassin who had once served a past Security Overseer by quietly terminating three individuals; ironically the last was the Security Overseer himself as the High Overseer had grown wary of the murderous, overly ambitious other man.

 

Old Lady Palmer gave them each a very tasty home made sweetroll, even a little one for Appie who clutched the lukewarm delicacy in both chubby muscular hands. He gurbled happily when the old but still fairly youthful looking woman kissed him on the forehead. It was whispered that Old Lady Palmer, Lucy Palmer, was the mother of one Anne Palmer who had long ago led a scouting expedition up to the surface and the Jagged Crater, a great shallow but torn up crater caused by some kind of super-weapon. Except that she had vanished.

 

Anne Palmer’s son was one Doctor Jonas Palmer, a GP and medical research assistant, who sometimes worked with Professor Ashworth on particular projects. He was the giver of their sixth gifts. In this case a vault published copy of a Predoomsday book, being plasticback editions of two novels. One was MOBY DICK and the other was THE HOBBIT. The books were of great value, would add nicely to their collection, but the hidden data in them was of more importance. Appie got a thinner but broader children’s book full of colourful 3Dpix and 3Dtoons.

 

The irony of LifeVault-0101 existence was that officially it was tightly ruled and regulated while in truth it was full of secret activity and was close to anarchy or even collapse. It seemed it would either become more centralised and oppressive or would finally break down totally unless some kind of miracle happened.

 

Then came the seventh gifts and these were the first of three ‘pass on gifts’. That is these gifts were passed over to some good community cause in the vault. Only when a citizen reached the age of ten were they expected to get three pass on gifts.

 

The twins each gained a compact medium sized portable medikit that was passed immediately onto one of the Paramedic Teams serving LifeVault-0101. This was given to them by a bored looking member of a Local Citizen Council, a handsome young man in a blue jumpsuit with the golden bands of an Elite Vault Dweller or EVD. In theory the wearing of such elite membership bands, along with the very existence of the Elite, was illegal but they continued not only to exist but to prosper.

 

The Elite fool looked upon Jasmine with obvious contempt and later on was ‘accidentally’ scolded by hot tea. The Elite, for reasons of their own, had come to both fear and even hate more powerful psychics along with a few other categories of Vaultfolk. The only ones they seemed to like were their own but even in that there were some doubts. That the current High Overseer was not an EVD but a so called Common Vault Dweller or CVD or commoner, was something that the Elitefolk had always found unforgivable and intolerable.

 

The eight gifts were two 12-boxes of MREs, Meals Ready To Eat, to be passed over to the Rimzone Charity Agency. The Rimzone Charity Agency had been set up by the Elite as a white collar crime ring to steal resources from Vaultgov but the High Overseer had quickly taken it over; now it did serve the needs of the growing Slum Vault Dweller, SVD, population in the Rimzone. It was just one of many reasons why the majority of the Elite hated the High Overseer.

 

The ninth gifts were two sets of waterproof blankets that also went to the RZCA.

 

The next three gifts each were a very nice surprise from the Citizenship Collective, a loose social network carrying out a wide range of social duties. The twins would share the six gifts and they were a small domestobot (domestic service robot), a sonic shower upgrade module, an inflatable wading pool for Appie, a 3Dposter of Vaultboy overlooking a great green new world, a 10 gigabyte datachip filled with entertainment software and data and, last of all, a small gift-basket of chamber industry made goodies.

 

As for the last four gifts each, the giving of them would be delayed until closer to the end of the party for they would be a different kind of gift.

 

Part 4

 

Aaron and Aarie sat with friends Amata, Colaboy, DJgirl, Google, the Bran Twins, Fred and Shandie. Appie was soon playing on the booth table with the Bran Twins, who were also neobabies in nappysuits. Apart from the pass on gifts and those to come, the twelve gifts were also on the table.

 

Aaron spoke as he carefully passed out some small cakes from a plate to all the others at the booth. “Butch came over and tried to bully us out of our sweetrolls. When I told him that we twins had eaten ours and Appie had gummed his, he just stood there all red faced. Then he muttered something and then he went off back to his goons like he had done something big and manly.”

 

The others laughed at this except the neobabies who were busy playing with some colourful plastic blocks with 2D symbols, numbers and pictures.

 

Google, who got his nickname from a Predoomsday popular internet program, snorted. “Those damned radroaches seem to be getting deeper into the vault more often these days. Do you think Crazy Charlie was real, that he really did damage the outer hull of LifeVault-0101 with plastic explosives to allow the radroaches to swarm into the vault?”

 

Aaron sighed. “He did exist and he used some bombs to blow up part of the vault but wether he did damage to the vault hull is another matter. Put your voice down if you are going to discuss such matters. Security always keeps an extra watch over this sort of gathering. That means extra ears also, as you should know.”

 

Google frowned softly but spoke more softly. “I heard a whisper that Mad Charlie finished off some evil plot of the Elite before it could be put into action.”

 

Aarie then spoke. “We have heard the same sort of whispers but they all vary in what the Elite were supposed to be up to. One story was a carefully controlled plague, another was nerve gas, another was mind control devices disguised as pleasure maker gadgets and yet another was deadly assassin nanobots. Do you know why the Elite are the Elite?”

 

Colaboy snorted. “Their ancestors were VaultTek employees who helped design and construct LifeVault-0101.”

 

Trent broke in. “Yes, and those employees like security, medical and administration also. They made sure they started out with more than anybody else and they still live in the Elite Zone. Unfair, unwise and undoable!”

 

The last was a common graffiti slogan illegally painted or drawn on walls. Everybody knew it was aimed at the unfairness of the Elite and though the Elite often ranted-raved about such things, neither security or the Vault Police had the resources to worry about such things. Nor did others. What slowed graffiti protesters down was the lack of resources to make good graffiti with.

 

Part 5

 

The main vault was divided into the Nine Zones being Central plus the compass directions all the way from North to South and back to South-West. The Elite dwelt in the North-East Zone, keeping it to themselves though that gave them excessive space and other resources out of proportion to their numbers. They refused to allow others in or share out any of those resources with other zones.

 

Each Zone was divided into three levels of nine sectors so each zone had twenty-seven sectors. Yet the top and bottom sector-layers were service-support network-systems, AI-supercomputer run, automated with robotic and roboremote units. Relatively few people went up or down into those sector-layers. The middle sector-layers were the normal spaces for human activity. Zones and sectors were generally divided as political-admin, social-personal service-support, industrial-maintenance, defence-security, residential-related, research-development, training-education, virtual reality and other.

 

There were plenty of whispers of hidden areas, tunnels, big network-systems and much else. Stories spoke of so called 'ghost zones' that existed somehow in the same place as normal zones, yet not there, and which were only reached by special means. One story spoke of a bizarre 3Dmaze. Another spoke of a strange Victorian style garden. Yet others of a World War Two vintage bunker with horribly strange technologies. Yet the oddest was the ones about a small Weirding Zone being just below LifeVault-0101.

 

Movement into certain areas and generally between many areas was heavily controlled, often restricted and sometimes only a few could go into or through certain areas. It was not just the EliteZone that remained very hard to get into for most Vaultfolk. For teenagers wanting to know more about what was going on, all of this was most frustrating.

 

Part 6

 

Shandie turned. “Looks like the final gifts are going to be given.”

 

Four gifts each, they were hardly a surprise. The twins gained Citizen Honour Awards for Achievements in Education-Training, Community Service, Citizen Art and Bravery. The last was for the rescuing of five people under difficult and dangerous circumstances. Each came with a 100creds so each twin, of course, had gained 400creds. It was far from a fortune but it was going to make for some nice spending.

 

The High Overseer was frowning softly, was almost smiling, in front of the twins. He had just passed over the awards and the credit using vaultcard transferrals. People were preparing to leave. Security guards were giving everybody a strong hint to start cleaning up, packing up and going home. The High Overseer’s two bodyguards were hinting that the overseer should move on for his schedule was catching up with him. The two were in their normal jumpsuits but with added flexikevlar body-armour, stunclubs, pulsepistols and 10SCmm autocarbines.

 

It was then that the arrogant young Elite man made a fatal mistake and began a sequence of events that would threaten to destroy the vault and all in it. He was clearly a little drunken as he came striding over to the High Overseer and the twins, stopped and thrust out his chest.

 

With total disregard for law, custom, manners and common sense, he spoke out aloud in a very arrogantly toned voice. “I will be taking those creds now to give over to the newly created Elite Compensation Fund, a fund set up by me because not only does the elite have to put up with a mere commoner being the High Overseer, but with these commoner brats being rewarded…”

 

He got to say no more because the High Overseer made a hand signal and one of the security guards aimed his autocarbine at the fool and gunned him down. The CS bullets exploded through his body and jumpsuit, the fool’s body shuddering and collapsing with an expression of shock and horror frozen on his face.

 

The High Overseer sighed. “I meant for you to use your stunclub on him but no matter, he was asking for heavy punishment. It was either death now or the use of a termination cubicle later. If anybody asks anything of any of you here, those few of you could hear what he said, you are to say that he threatened to kill me.”

 

The twins nodded. The dead man was a son of a powerful, influential and very aggressive leader of the Elite. There would be trouble from this.

 

TO BE CONTINUED

Edited July 14, 2010 by Maharg67

[Maharg67]

23^rd

FROM ABOVE, A SISTER OF STEEL

EAGLE EYE VIEW

 

Part 1

 

The small, sleek stealth-scoutplane flew fairly quickly through the sky, blending as much as possible with the sky while affording a very small radar profile. The Sister of Steel piloted it and was observer simply to cut down weight and bulk. She was assisted by an AI-supercomputer and two specialised super zoom lens equipped 3Dcameras.

 

As she swept over the latest fighting between raiders on the one hand and an alliance of Ironside Mercenaries and Brothers of Steel on the other, she noted that the fighting had died down to a few small firefights. Both sides were building up strength for yet another big bout. She noted some enemy movement and concentrations, recorded data and sent data by laser straight down to the main HQ below.

 

It was wonderful up there or so Amelia Skyheart was concerned. She loved flying one of two of the stealth scoutplanes that the Sisterhood of Steel operated from the DC Citadel. They were graceful, quiet and quick. They were only lightly armoured and had only a few self defence weapons but they relied on stealth to survive.

 

She turned the machine in a wide sweep and as she headed further on her preplanned flight path, noted another force of raiders moving to outflank and cut off their enemies based mainly at the dometown with its cracked but still standing dome. These raiders were well equipped for such. They had many battlebuggies and battletrucks, some battletrikes and a some repaired Landfreighters and Landliners hauling people or equipment and supplies. Again she sent valuable data.

 

Then she saw them and she winced. Barely hidden amongst the greater raider numbers were power armoured figures wearing the power armour of the Patriot Guard of the Patriot Republic that existed on the large Central Patriot Island. Patriot Guard were elite forces of the republic. Once they had been a far more powerful and sophisticated elite force of the Mad President, one President James Patriot Jackson, of the USA. Yet they were still a threat.

 

The implications were dark; this was not just a big raider invasion but a more organised invasion by one of the most powerful nations in the DC Wastelands, even if it was not on the mainland.

 

Alarms rang as a SAM, a surface to air missile, locked onto her. Then she was going into avoidance flight patterns, was shooting out decoy flares and even AMMs, Anti-Missile Missiles. She was an excellent pilot cyberlinked cleverly into a specialised control network-system but even so the SAM followed her. For a while it seemed she would not lose it but then assistance came.

 

A pulsebeam sprang up from seemingly nowhere in the Wastelands and the SAM exploded dramatically.

 

Amelia Skyheart supposed it was a friendly unit, either of the Orders of Steel or allied to them, but she was wrong. Grateful anyway, she flew onwards to investigate the next mission delegated area. She would not go back for clearly it was too dangerous to do so even for her. No point in losing both a very valuable aircraft and a highly trained specialist pilot for no good reason.

 

Part 2

 

She headed towards the ruins of what had once been a big semi-underground luxury retirement and semiretirement housing estate. It had come complete with its own deep underground LifeBunkers, differently designed from a LifeVault but made for the same reasons. Nobody had managed to communicate with the LifeBunkers, let alone find them, since Doomsday.

 

When she flew over the destroyed raider force of over two hundred fighters, she was deeply shocked though she had long ago assumed she would never be surprised again. After all as a veteran she had seen some amazing and terrible sights in her career. Even some wonderful ones but this was far from wonderful. Something had torn the raiders apart, shredded them. It had ripped through armoured vehicles like they were made of thin paper. It had disabled robots somehow. It had disabled other vehicles. Other dead raiders were not so damaged but were almost naked, having been carefully looted. She noted settlers moving amongst the scene as they looted goods, trying to salvage even robots and vehicles.

 

There was no sight or other clear indication of what had destroyed the raiders but she sent data off straight away, including 3Dvideo and other recordings.

 

The Orders of Steel would be most interested in what sort of weapon, if it was a weapon, had so efficiently destroyed so many raiders along with their equipment, including robots. She had been given secret orders to not record officially everything she saw but this time she did so. What was the point of trying to keep something secret that many DC Wastelanders had already taken strong account of?

 

She turned the amazing aircraft and headed onwards to the next objective cordinates.

 

Part 3

 

Lucky Eddie had gone to the settlers in his disguise and with him went the two women, a pack-brahmin, six saddle-horses, a big dog and a crow, the crow being perched on his shoulder. Like him, of course, they were not what they seemed to be. EddieJo did not admit that his group had anything to do with the strange death and destruction unleashed on the raiders and there was no obvious reason why the settlers would link this group of wandering DC Wastelanders with such exotic events. Such groups did show up at the settlement and were generally welcome though always with some suspicious lest they be slaver or bandit spies or other sorts of trouble makers. Unfairly, too many people feared demighouls, that is ghouls who did not look like ghouls, and would drive them off or worse if they found out the truth.

 

Lucky Eddie did not speak with the leader back then, she being too busy, and only breifly later on. He was helping to salvage stuff, not using any of his superhuman physical or other abilities, when the stealth scoutplane went overhead. Of course he knew it was there. He was Lucky Eddie and he was special. He sometimes he supposed this was his reward for going through so many dark times.

 

He was fascinated and horrified by the DC Wastelanders and amazed that the DC Wastelanders had survived though he knew they had evolved naturally, mutated not so naturally, and thus had adapted to such tough conditions. DC Wastelanders, like such folk around the world, were more resistant to radiation, diseases, toxins and many other troubles than normal Predoomsday folk had been. The simple truth was that those who had not adapted, had died out.

 

He wondered what was going to happen next. Who would be drawn to the place by the scoutplane?

 

TO BE CONTINUED

Edited July 14, 2010 by Maharg67

[Maharg67]

24^th

ESCAPEES FROM THE GIANT ANTS

TWO TEENAGERS, A BABY BOY, A HORSE, TWO DOGS AND A CAT

 

Part 1

 

The escapees from the settlement destroyed by giant ants, reached Canterbury Commons and found their a lukewarm welcome at first. Luckily they were given some water by a kindly old woman who listened to their story with some astonishment that they had survived the trek. The area they had travelled through was infamous for various kinds of giant ants that constantly attacked each other or anybody foolish enough to enter the area. She directed them to the Sisterhood of Compassion Outpost, a newly created place by a fairly new organization in the DC Surface Wastelands.

 

Sisters of Compassion were a sub-branch of the Order of the Way as was the Brotherhood of Protection. That meant they were linked in turn to the Sister Pathfinders who led people through the Weirding Zones and to the Order of Metaphysics. All had originated in the organised subway network-systems of the Subwayers and their Union of the Subways. The name was inspired by that of the Union of Columbia and similar things could be said about the Subwayer government, constitution and other factors.

 

Linked to the Union of the Subways was the mysterious sponsor of the DCCoOp who also sponsored the Order of the Way and its many offshoots. The Union of the Subways did their best also to give support to the order and its offshoots. In turn they were also given assistance by the same mysterious entity. It was not generally known at the time but these orders were inspired by the Orders of Steel but varied from them in many ways in organisation, philosophy and goals.

 

The Orders were busy spreading their influence, their good works, across the DC Mainland and were planning to go to the DC Islands. They were at first accepted cautiously but then made more welcome. Even such as bandits soon left them alone in many areas when realising they might easily need their services one day. Limited resources, the madness of the DC Wastelands and other factors slowed down their expansion and made it more difficult but these sorts of troubles were common to all.

 

That they had a hidden agenda, many had no doubt but they took what was given, supported back when they could and did not ask too many questions.

 

Part 2

 

The identical sixteen year old twins, MaryJo and AshlyJo Olsonic, stood at the edge of the outpost and just inside its gateway. They were attractive, slimly voluptuous for their age, and had hard blue eyes. They wore typical tough and practical Wastelander gear. MaryJo held the baby boy pressed against her breasts and he slumbered. Indeed he was a neobaby and not a baby as such. AshlyJo held the young cat against her breasts and she was also peacefully, comfortably asleep. The dogs sat either sat and the horse stood quietly behind them with its full panniers and packs.

 

The Sisters Compassionate raced around doing various duties. They wore either kneerobes or practical Wastelander gear complete with armour. Brother Protectors stood in assault power armour, a form of specialised light power armour, except a few in recon power armour, another form of light armour. There were trustees, trusted volunteers, also working. There were a few robots like protectrons on sentry duty, worktrons carrying things and even a couple of eyebots floating above the prefabricated huts and tents.

 

Next to a landspeeder, a light fast semi-enclosed hovercraft, an important seeming Sister Compassionate was talking earnestly with a craggy old man of a scavenger-trader in Wastelander wilderness gear including tough hornlizard leather armour. With him were two tough looking chimpnoids and a big, gentler looking gorillanoids also in hornlizard leather armour and other gear shaped to their nonhuman bodies.

 

The dark blonde, slightly dusky, white, blue eyed Olsonic Twins looked to each other, into each other’s eyes, and back again to the outpost activity. There seemed to nobody interested in helping them. They went to turn, to leave, but then a big bustling friendly Sister Compassionate came racing up to them and smiled a ghoulish face at them. The big white teeth totally contrasted with the ravishment of her face. She spoke in English. “Now, now, surely there is something that we can do to convince you to stay.”

 

The twins turned back to her and smiled almost as one. Then AshlyJo spoke with a warm, strong voice. “We need shelter four ourselves and our friends. We wish to share the same tent, including our horse, who is toilet trained. We need food. We need pristine water. We need other services. We have vital information to give in return along with other goods and services that we wish to speak of in private to yourself or any other. A great danger has appeared to the north-east of her that can threaten Canterbury Commons itself if it is not dealt with properly.”

 

The woman looked mildly startled and then thoughtful for a moment. Then she spoke. “Well, I suggest you all come to the tent over here that was prepared for you. Oh, we had a strong idea you were coming. There are supplies and equipment set aside for you in the tent though not as much as we would have liked to have given you. I am Sister Compassionate Trela and I dwell here in Canterbury Commons. I oversee the caring of refugees and others in need in this outpost. We are always short of… well everything it seems that is needed and too much that is unwanted.”

 

The twins both smiled. MaryJo spoke. “Bring us a basket of assorted needs, damaged items included.”

 

The woman smiled. “There is already one in the tent.”

 

Part 3

 

The puzzled twins followed her across the grounds and into a clearly unused tent. Except that is a drunken, drugged, grubby young man stumbled out of it as he pulled zipped up his trousers, clearly having urinated in the tent, and clutching a half full cloth bag of stolen goods. He sneered at the woman. “Get out of my way, b****, you is weak and I am strong so I take what I like.”

 

Sister Compassionate Trela sighed deeply, pulled out a .32 spinpistol from seemingly nowhere, and shot him in the chest. The man had a surprised, pained look on his face as he collapsed backwards onto the ground.

 

But then the twins gently, firmly, pushed Trela to one side and crouched either side of the fool. AshlyJo pressed her left hand against his forehead and MaryJo pressed her hand against his solar plexus. Softly glowing shimmering energies flowed from their hands and through the dead body. The corpse shivered, glowed softly for a moment, the wound healed and the live young man sat up.

 

He was no longer drugged or drunken and there was no sign of a bullet wound except for damage to the gear that he wore. The old expression of arrogance and aggression was gone from his face and an expression of serenity had replaced it along with that of regret. He looked up at the surprised, but not shocked, Sister Compassionate and spoke. “I am a blessed resurrected one of the Light with enhanced physical, mental and psychic abilities. The question is who will I serve under my new name of Mozi’Kelly, I who was named Kelly Angerson of the infamous Angerson Family of Canterbury Commons. I have much to make amends for.”

 

“I have heard whispers of such happening but not in the DC Wastelands.” The woman sighed and shook her head in wonder. “Wait here with the others. Put back the goods that you stole. Clean up the mess you made. It was very quick. I expected it to take much longer.”

 

Mozi’Kelly grimaced softly. “For you it seemed quick. For me it was years of trial, confession and repentance followed by gifting, training, teaching and practice of my new abilities on a world that I will not and can not speak of. I can say this: Doomsday did not just threaten the long term existence of this world, a threat that grows greater with every passing day, but also other worlds, other types of realms, linked to this one. This whole solar system is at risk, including aspects of it that we humans of this world have yet to discover. The damage from Doomsday was more than what humanity knows and in many ways more subtle than the physical death and destruction caused.”

 

The woman nodded. “We know! That is… I suggest we speak of this later. I must go and communicate at once with our Mother Director here at Canterbury Commons. She is not too far away from here.”

 

“The woman at the landspeeder talking to the old scavenger-trader.” AshlyJo stood up and spoke solemnly. “We and our new friend will wait here.”

 

The Sister Compassionate smiled, turned and walked away.

 

Mozi’Kelly walked into the tent to put the stolen goods back and the others, including the placid horse, followed him into there. Soon the others had taken care of basic needs and were sleeping while Mozi’Kelly kept doing chores and kept guard. Somehow a decision had been silently made and he would remain with the others and continue with them as they went onwards to Megaton.

 

TO BE CONTINUED

Edited July 14, 2010 by Maharg67

[species5478]

Well...it's good.:thumbsup: I tend to find myself getting behind with your writing though, because you pump out material so fast, that I can barely keep up. Is it possible to release episodes a little slower?

[Maharg67]

Thank you for your feedback, Species5478. I will do as you request for a slow down of pace. Do others feel the same way?

 

25^th

MANIFESTATIONS IN AREFU

BRAILEE EWERS, FANTASIES SOLIDIFIED

 

Part 1

 

The Wastelands Wanderer made her way with seeming casualness towards her target destination along a wide footpath past houses, some shops and other structures built sturdy and reinforced heavily against storms and other threats. That there were barriers at the back of the buildings, helped greatly. Settlers moved quietly along the wide pathway on business apart from some noisy children. They were up on the great Arefu Bridge, on the Outer North-Western Side.

 

The house she was heading for was ahead and it attracted her attention at once because of the small group at its front door who were both tense and angry. She had been to and through Arefu before but she had never been drawn to this kind of situation before. She realised that it might have to be Calamity Jane, and not Charlie Jane, who would deal with this situation.

 

Mayor Even King stood old and stern, determined and not quite able to really grasp the real situation. The mayor was a man who tended to make the every decision for the wrong reason, good or bad but the odd thing was he was not a bad person at heart; he was simply clueless when it came to leadership. He had become mayor because at one stage he had, alone, driven off the True Family, also known as the Blooded Ones, from Arefu with his very good knowledge of explosives but his popularity was wearing thin and it was generally considered he would be voted out next election day.

 

But the real threat to Arefu’s prosperity was his domineering, cunning, greedy wife who was busy manipulating him to build up family wealth, power and influence. Winfred was cunning, yes, but foolish for she was even less popular than her husband and her attempt to get onto the Town Council was a failure.

 

It was the house of Brailee and Ken Ewers, along with their girl, Kylie Ewers, that was the centre of attention. She was supposedly mad, was caught in a vision of living in a Predoomsday suburban world that was quite ideal. She made cookies that were tin cans and imagined her few mutated flowers in her small front garden area were a beautiful flower garden.

 

Except now there was a beautiful flower garden in front of her house that was now looking like a brightly coloured small modular suburban house. Suburbs of the 2070s were much more reduced in garden size for most people and houses were tough, modular and almost identical to each other. Suburbs were protected by energy domes or at least some of them were, and were designed for both robots and humans. But Brailee’s house looked so much more like a fantasy than that with wonderful windows, a wonderful shingle roof and even a small ornate balcony.

 

Part 2

 

Brailee had begun to manifest her fantasies or somebody else was doing it for her, through her, with her. The thirteen year old Kylie Ewers, who loved her mother and father dearly, who doted on her mother, was a strong candidate. Ken, her father, stood there with some others defending Brailee and in front of the mayor was a very determined Kylie.

 

Charlie Jane did not push her way through, they simply made room for her, and then she was facing the others. There were two men with the men, thugs dressed up as Town Council Bailiffs, Sheriff Karen Schenzy, young for such a role but she was canny, forceful and knew well how to delegate duties. She was also attractive which was both good and bad for her duties. With her were two deputies, as tough looking as herself, in body-armour and carrying guns.

 

Worst of all, Winfred King was there, she a very attractive woman with large breasts who liked to always expose much cleavage, was quick to flirt with other men and just as quick to use those men. Her husband was apparently blind to all of this.

 

Winfred was frowning at Kylie and the bailiffs were being directed by her, it was clear to everybody but the mayor. She spoke with an arrogant condescending tone to her voice. “These new abilities, manifestations of Atom, they belong to the whole settlement and it is for the mayor to take possession of the furniture, fittings, decorations and other items to best use them to serve the people.”

 

Which meant that Winfred wanted them in her house, the big old semiruin given over to Even King when he became mayor, mainly because nobody was sure what to do with it otherwise. The mayor was solidly indecisive as he was about many important matters. He was a man who seemed to be having second thoughts about being the mayor.

 

Charlie Jane stepped forward a bit more and she spoke. “Jurisdiction of such phenomena, by the Law, Justice and Security Agreement signed also by Arefu, is not that of the mayor but that of the Regulators and I am, in truth, a Regulator.” She flashed her badge. “Which I bear under the name of Calamity Jane. Why do you speak of Atom when you are not really a member of the Church of Atom though you grew up as an Ormon. You left their ranks a very long time ago.”

 

Winfred beamed a strange smile. “Atom speaks to me now in my dreams. Full of true brightness of light, he recognises my greatness as a leader and reflects upon my glories to come.”

 

Charlie Jane sighed. “Start listening to those voices and it is the flames of sinful burning you will go; do you not remember it from your childhood lessons? What more would you do in the service of Arefu, of Atom and your leadership?”

 

Winfred beamed the same odd smile. “Why I would kill the Ewers Family, of course.”

 

Which was when Kylie Ewers kicked the mayor’s wife very hard in one shin. Winfred cried in agony and clutched her booted leg.

 

Kylie spoke out in rage. “Weird old lady, greedy old lady. Go away or Calamity Jane is going to shoot you dead.”

 

Part 3

 

About an hour later Charlie Jane, the sheriff, the Ewers Family and Scholar Amos Alms were in the Ewers Household. Events had gone swiftly since the confrontation at the front of the house. The mayor had just resigned and was going to divorce his wife, he had become aware of her infidelities, and his soon to be ex-wife was locked in a room where she was raving about Atom, her great leadership and the need to paint the mayor’s house bright pink.

 

The overly expensive tolls for Arefu Bridge were formally removed but in truth they had already been quietly, unofficially reduced. Trade was back to normal for Arefu as were the convoys and caravans moving across the great highway bridge. Amongst the latest were convoys of Brotherhood of Steel warmachines and armatrucks full of mercenaries on their way to fight the raiders to the east.

 

Charles Jane was admiring the brand new 3DTV set showing an endless loop of twenty-four hours of bright, sparkly drama and music that made little sense but was very cheerful. The place was now full of brand new fine quality furniture, fittings and decorations including no less than three helpful robots, a maidtron, a protectron and a worktron. Ken Ewers was happy with his own vibrating armchair and collection of pipes plus a big supply of cold beer. Kylie had new dolls and her own computer terminal she used well. It was no wonder that many folks in Arefu were jealous and wanted goods likes these.

 

Which was when the Sister of Metaphysics, Angelie Uroo, came pacing quietly into the house, let in by a deputy, took one look around and sighed.

 

Part 4

 

Angelie Uroo turned to Charlie Jane and spoke. “Calamity Jane herself, no less. I am glad you are here. We will need you if we are to resolve this situation positively. People are gathering outside. There is fear, jealousy, curiosity and many other strong emotions being felt out there.”

 

Charles Jane turned to Angelie Uroo. “What appeared in this house is far more than it seems on the surface. The transdimensional instability grows worse and so Brailee was able, subconsciously, to manifest her powerful fantasy world at least to some extent. All the rooms are furnished, fitted and decorated. The pantry is full of goodies as are the closets, wardrobes, bookcases and other storage units.”

 

The Scholar, Amos Alms, spoke then as he looked up from a neat stack of documents before him. “Glossy newsmagazines from the days just before Doomsday, complete with bulletin updates. The Washington Post, the Washington DC Chronicle, the DC News and the USA Times Daily. The first and the last seem to attack President James Patriot Jackson and the other two to support him. What all of them do is show us that we do not know much of what happened during the Predoomsday era; there are some deep surprises here.”

 

Charles Jane nodded. “There appears to be more to Brailee Ewers than appears on the surface. She is a demighoul and was born years before Doomsday but like many demighouls she lost most of her memories and so was taken as being human as she moved often. Unlike many ghouls, she turned out to be fertile.”

 

Brailee was happily cooking a cake in the kitchen to cheer her neighbours up and was oblivious of the conversation but both Kylie and Ken were listening carefully as was the sheriff and the scholar.

 

“But more than that, Brailee Ewers was once Professor Brailee Ewers, a brilliant genius who worked for various major TekCorps Projects. That is until she realised that the TekCorps Agenda was basically insane as was President James Patriot Jackson who dominated the TekCorps.” Charlie Jane sighed. “She joined a rebel research and development group called the YingYang Initiative, of which we know very little about. Except that I have two print-out datafiles here.” He held up the two plastic clip-files neatly filled with A4 sized print-outs. “According to these, the YingYang Initiative was to carry out a series of projects and other operations to counter the TekCorps’ research and development projects.”

 

Part 5

 

Brailee came out of the kitchen area and was frowning softly now. “Oh, my dear, you really don’t need to talk about such foolish matters but if you must. Deary me. Oh, yes, the YingYang Initiative was supported by the alternative US Federal Government that arose in Los Angeles but also by other, more mysterious forces.” Then she sighed. “I need to go down to the basement. I think it is important that we all go down to the basement but I do not know why. Firstly we should pack because we just may not be coming back.”

 

Ken Ewers shrugged. “No basement but now a basement, why not? I used to say Brailee was as smart as a bag of hammers but maybe it was me who was the dumb one. Well, we go where Brailee wants us to.”

 

There was a basement but as they went into it, they went not into normal space below the house but into a transdimensional zone. A big metallic wooden rampway allowed them to bring the luggage down, some furniture and some other items. Much they left behind. Then they were in what looked like a huge basement of a house that stretched out in all directions except that there was far more to it than a brand new looking Predoomsday basement.

 

There were rows of vehicles in a garage-workshop area, a whole laundromat area, rows of robots in their bays, a big games area, a home 3Dtheatre area, a big pool-snooker table, an armoury area, a workshop area, what looked like a museum and even more than that.

 

Brailee pointed to distant double wooden doors. “Through there is a beautiful metropolis called Serenity City. Everybody is happy there. We Ewers have a big house there, everybody does, and we live good lives.”

 

The others looked around either with quiet interest or sheer astonishment.

 

TO BE CONTINUED

Edited July 14, 2010 by Maharg67

[Maharg67]

26^th

GREYMAHARG IN NEVADA

STROLLING AMONGST GIANT BEES AND PLANTNOIDS

 

Part 1

 

He was a young looking man in appearance wearing a blue vault jumpsuit with a yellow Eternity symbol instead of any standard VaultTek stuff. Yet on his head he wore a wide brimmed cowboy hat and he black wrap-around sunglasses, a utility-belt thick with pouches and other items plus long black kneeboots. On his back was a big backpack that seemed far too heavy for him to lift but which he carried with apparent ease as he strolled along the path.

 

Over his head he held a black umbrella because it was raining lightly. He held this with his left hand as he held a metallic box with a top face covered with a strange pattern of dials, small light-bulbs and a single mirror like screen.

 

Around him stretched part of the Nevada Wastelands, once a desert and then a desert turned into a green paradise but now broken, battered weirdscape. Buildings of smart materials jutted into the air, elegant towers spraying out flying buttresses in all directions from their sides, great geodomes, spiral terraced cones and much else.

 

Plantimals, something between animals and plants, genetically engineered there in Nevada by WestTek and other corporations, including TekCorps, swarmed across a landscape already largely covered with an amazing variety of exotic mutated plants. Great sunflowers stretched out mightily to welcome giant bees. The huge, heavily fortified bee hive was in the distance having been built up with wet mud, scavenged modern materials and a strange glue like excretion.

 

Plantimals of a humanoid kind were fighting giant bees. The plantimals were plated in home made metallic armour and fought with spears, swords and also long whip like tendrils natural to their bodies. The giant bees, unlike their tinier cousins, did not die when stinging an enemy. The battle was a scattered one with savage skirmishes taking place here and there while the enemies seemingly ignored each other in most places. They were fighting over bunches of giant sunflowers and other mutated plant treasures.

 

Neither the giant bees or the plantnoids would even start to threaten the strange young man but sometimes one would approach him, he would pause and talk to it in the odd manner of the species that he was communicating with. Both had communal minds, shared subconscious mentalities, and his influence spread. As he continued walking the fighting began to end and the cooperation began to function.

 

Plantnoids and giant bees were working together by the time he reached the troubled human settlement with its angry, frightened population crouching behind crude, well built up metal, earth, concrete and other materials formed fortifications. Despite efforts to cultivate food inside the settlement and to send well armed parties out to gather food, they were going hungry.

 

Part 2

 

A mixture of ghouls, prime humans and some chimpnoids, they were preparing for a last ditch defence against attacking swarms of plantnoids or giant bees, both of which assaulted the settlement at regular intervals.

 

A big hulking man came forward, an odd combination of gentleness and aggression, wrapped in fleximetallic armour and carrying a 5.5mm assault machinegun, or AMG, with ease. AMGs were designed to be used normally with power armour. “Are you the Wanderer of the Wastelands, the one who brings hope to those with seemingly no hope?”

 

GreyMaharg nodded. “Yes, but there is always a price and yet in this case the price is not very high. I will open a gateway between here and another two places in the US Wastelands, a place far from perfect but where you will have a far greater chance of survival than you will have here, but also a third place of special nature.”

 

“First choice is a small island, one of the DC Islands of the DC Wastelands.”

 

“Second choice is close to Austin, the ruined city here in what was called Nevada State.”

 

“Third is to OrbisSanctuary, an alien place but one altered to support with fair peace those such as yourselves but know you will only be semi-independent there under the rule of OrbisMind.”

 

“Last choice is to stay here and live peacefully with the now cooperative giant bees and plantnoids. It would be a challenging but promising choice. If you try living here with out trying to get peaceful with the plantnoids and giant bees, together they will destroy you.”

 

Adults of authority and respect gathered to debate the subject. The leader, the doctor, the vet, the sheriff and some others. As they debated GreyMaharg walked around the settlement and discussed matters with others.

 

He got back to the leadership group and the big man stood confident with a made decision, a decision he had basically chosen and forced through with his hard-gentle charisma. “We choose to go close to Austin. There we at least are in familiar territory and facing familiar threats.”

 

GreyMaharg shook his head. “The settlement majority have chosen OrbisSanctuary. Any others may go to the island of Palmsio to live with people or to live near Austin to risk the Raiders of Steel and other threats that exist in the ruined city.”

 

The big man went to get angry, to threaten with his gun, but then the other side of his nature took over and he lowered the weapon. “I will go where those I love choose to go, even if it means staying here where we have made so many sacrifices to make a good life for ourselves. We thank you. What is the price.”

 

“Leave everything of value that you can for the plantnoids and giant bees to divide up fairly between each other. They have now formed a cooperative alliance. If they would attack again, they would do so in combination against you.” The strange little man smiled and lowered his very large backpack easily to the ground where it thudded heavily. He turned to it and touched a metallic silvery disk on top of it. The disk glowed and then, with a sparkling shimmer, a big pair of metallic elevator like doors appeared inside a free standing metallic concrete wall.

 

Part 3

 

About half went to OrbisSanctuary and half to the DC Island of Palmsio. There had been a schism between the two groups and just a small amount of sorrow that there was going to be a splitting of ways. Some hours passed as the first lot went through the doorway to the distant island and began to meet local folks of Palmsio who were generally welcoming. The others going to OrbisSanctuary prepared.

 

But a third, much smaller group of outcasts, of the unpopular, of those not truly accepted by the two bigger groups, came to GreyMaharg as if drawn by a magnet. They took things from a dispensing device in the back of the exotic backpack like pristine water, foodbars, blankets and other items of use.

 

The group gathered up together held together only by their outcast nature. A grumpy, gnarly old man; a pair of twin boys with hard sharp eyes, a sad little boy cuddle up in GreyMaharg’s arms who held a thin kitten to himself, a young woman who was bruised harshly on one cheek but who was doing some knitting, a cluster of chimpnoids and gorillanoids being all of the animanoids in the settlement, a young tough man clutching a very well made and powerful scoped bolt-action rifle with a recoil suppression mechanism being a 12.7mm (half inch) calibre firing Republican Fifty-B1A1.

 

There were others like a small girl clutching her dolly as she sat next to her tough brother with the rifle, holding his left hand that clutched hers protectively, an old woman with some dogs who was calmly attending the injuries of a mildly cranky old man lying on a blanket and some more. There were ghouls because they were all not considered worthy to be full members of the community.

 

All the outcasts were so because on man, the big leader man named Rocky Bronco, nobody knew his true name but himself, had decided they did not fit into the community proper. Often this was because they had disagreed with his decisions and had refused to back down as people normally did. Rocky Bronco liked democracy as long as he actually made all of the important decisions and could over ride any decision made by others.

 

Rocky Bronco went to the DC Island of Palmsio where he was going to get a big shock as he confronted a powerful, well established leadership and a people who would not accept him as a leader. With him went those who had come to rely on him to make their decisions for them, those who had come to believe he was as good as he said he was and those who gained by helping him rule.

 

When Rocky Bronco tried to take more resources than he promised he would, GreyMaharg just looked him in the eyes and the resources were put back. Even Rocky Bronco was smart enough to be frightened of a living god, one of the Ancients who humans first learned about in the 2030s.

 

The second group went off to OrbisSanctuary and at the last moment their leader, a tall imposing woman, invited any of the outcasts who would like to go with them. She reminded them that Rocky Bronco would not be in that settlement and then the outcasts were going with her. When GreyMaharg became two of himself and one went to OrbisSanctuary while one remained seemingly alone, with his backpack, nobody seemed to sense it as odd. One GreyMaharg carried the now happy little boy who was busy being fussed over while he clutching a purring, thrumming kitten.

 

Part 4

 

GreyMaharg who remained sat on his backpack slowly drinking a thermos mug of creamy strong coffee that never seemed to empty. He watched the plantnoids and giant bees divide up the settlement remains. All livestock and other animals had gone with the settlers but there were crops remaining. The plantnoids took broken weapons and tools to study, not the first they had taken, The giant bees took items of a more basic nature that they could use such as building materials.

 

He was disappointed that no settlers had chosen to risk living with the giant bees and plantnoids but not surprise. Even if there had been no past violence, the nonhuman entities were very alien to human life and perception, very frightening.

 

When a young queen of the giant bees appeared with a small swarm of followers, he opened the temporary Waygate to allow them to go to another part of OrbisSanctuary than the settlers had gone to. When a colonisation group of plantnoids came, bringing with them less intelligent plantimals as companions, he did the same for them.

 

After a while the strange little man set out again with his backpack as he headed towards the ruined city of Austin where he had some appointments to keep. Of course he closed and made vanish the temporary Waygate before he left.

 

TO BE CONTINUED

Edited July 14, 2010 by Maharg67