IV.251
didn't ghost kill the man in black in the original stories?
or was it nat?
Braga... my hero.
User: SIREN
Date: 30-Jan 09:06 AM 822992765
IV.252
undead undead undead
User: Editrix Lowenberg's Dead
Date: 30-Jan 08:44 PM 823034710
IV.253
actually ghost sort of escaped after a huge super-natural battle..
(actually captured by Kisko.. another story i never posted.. was
too damn long)
Scorch (umm.. another account i sometimes used..) fled from the man in black
and ended up being chased to the top of century tower where he laughed at him
and threw himself from the top.. (i had a lot of fun killing bystanders in the
chase..)
john brothers (who was the "author") was killed in the end.. as the man in
black killed him he faded from existence.. it's not smart to kill your creator.
i wish someone had saved the detective story Milamber wrote.. it was one
of the funniest things i had ever seen on here..
User: GHOST
Date: 30-Jan 09:26 PM 823037290
IV.254
ALTERNATE "BRUTALLY FRANK" VERSION FOR THOSE EASILY ANNOYED BY JOKE ENDINGS
(whose names, such as "Walter," will not be mentioned here):
The Man in Black advances toward TRAVELER, stepping over the hideous human
debris on the floor. Trav realizes he has just had a wish-fulfillment
hallucination...but Brannon Braga wasn't here after all, and everyone really is
dead. The Man conks him on the head and knocks him out.
When next he awakens, he is tied down in the Man's dungeon. The rest of his
short life is lived out in unspeakable agony as he is subject to all the
aforementioned tortures and many more...
THE END.
:)
User: "Brutally" Frank, aka Traveler
Date: 30-Jan 09:55 PM 823038939
IV.255
i kinda liked the way the 2nd Bob Newhart show ended..
with him waking up with his wife from the 1st show and realizing that this
whole other life was just a dream..
:)
User: GHOST
Date: 31-Jan 10:40 AM 823084850
IV.256
Wow!
Maybe I should have been reading all this.....
Very....interesting.....
So if I write a MBBS for Grove (which I may) what should it be called?
:)
User: Evilgreg
Date: 31-Jan 12:23 PM 823091037
IV.257
<>
"Is this mine own countree?"
============================
It is the end of the day. Someone standing on the wall of the old City, gazing
out over the sea, might be moved to quote Coleridge: "Looking westward, I
beheld/A Something in the sky..." Indeed, there is a fleck of black against
the swollen globe of the setting sun. But the small shadow is no ghostly death
ship; it hovers well above the water. As it draws closer it takes on the shape
of something squarish, beneath a larger sphere. Now a good pair of binoculars
would resolve the object, and reveal the neon "V V" glowing on its face. The
Virtual Vax Cafe is coming home.
The evening winds carry the Cafe north toward the familiar outcrop on the
coast where it has always resided. SYLVAR brings the building down till it
glides just above the water; finally it kisses the waves, and its base sinks
into them. The VVC drifts along, borne by the tide and its own momentum. Its
mooring place is only dozens of yards away now, and everyone is standing in
front of the building, or looking down from the north or south terrace, in
anticipation.
At last the final distance is closing. The jagged edge of the parking lot
looms ahead. Fortuitously, the Cafe slides into place almost exactly right
"along the injured coast," with just a gentle bump. The fit is no longer
precise--the shore has suffered some erosion (especially where Captain
Peugeot's car slid into the water and was later pulled out), and the land
around the VVC has been worn by landings, takeoffs, atmospheric re-entry,
splashdown, cyclone, et cetera. But the Cafe has come to rest firmly, which is
what matters. CADO and TRAVELER run to the cellar to screw in the virtual
anchors, then rejoin everyone else above.
"Home again, home again," says the proprietor. "For a very brief while. I'm
still not sure what we'll do after this. Guess I better decide soon, huh?"
"The possibilities are almost endless," ECSTASY says. "The VVC could continue
in any format...listserv, newsgroup, website, BBS. You could haunt
alt.callahans or Row_H-I. Or you could give yourself and the rest of us a
break for a while." :)
"Maybe not a bad idea..."
There comes a weak, scratchy mewling from the trees at the north edge of the
parking lot. ZOROASTER peers into the gloom of the woods, then walks forward
quickly. He crouches, picks something up, and comes walking back. Cradled
gently in his arms is the bedraggled, wounded Maharet.
"She lives," he whispers. "She's been waiting for us. For me."
"You said she attacked the Man in Black when he came looking for you, just
before you left Board Six and found us," DARICELL recalls.
"Yes. I'd gone back to my apartment, just after talking to Peugeot at the
diner. Mahie was there...she'd been prowling the streets, and I could tell
she'd smelled something evil on the wind. Then came a knock at the door. It
was _him_. She immediately leaped on his face and started clawing. I dove out
the window, and ran straight to the marina and boarded an outgoing freighter,
without looking back." He pets her blood-matted fur, gazing into her cautious
eyes. "I was sure she'd been killed."
"Who knows why he spares some and not others?" Trav says.
"Maybe he cared so much about chasing and killing Zoro at that point, she was
just a minor distraction, to be brushed off," GRAHAM speculates. "Looks like
she took some damage, though. Let's get her inside and clean her up."
"You know, if it weren't for Miss Maharet," Daricell says to Zoroaster, "you
probably wouldn't have reached us. And we might not have been able to stay
ahead of the Man in Black without you there. So she saved us all! She will
eat well tonight, I promise you. I'll go thaw out a steak...and maybe plan a
meal for the rest of us, too. What do you think, Trav?"
"Good plan...a farewell dinner. We can all help fix it!"
And while Zoroaster tends to Maharet, Daricell directs the preparing of the
feast. The finest china and crystal is set on white linen tablecloths in
the Atlantis Room; the most expensive vintages are brought out and uncorked;
the kitchen is redolent with the scents and sounds of cooking meats, herbs, and
vegetables.
And when no one is looking, a shadowy figure slips in by a side entrance,
goes down to the basement, and quietly loosens the anchors, and the VVC drifts
out again into the dark sea...
User: Traveler brings it home
Date: 31-Jan 08:31 PM 823120314
IV.258
Last Supper
===========
"Your attention please, ladies and gentlemen. Dinner will be served shortly in
the Atlantis Room." LOUCH's voice comes crisply over the P.A. system, reaching
the VVCers in their favorite corners of the Cafe they will be leaving so soon.
Everyone has dressed up for the dinner, men in black tie and women in elegant
dresses.
DARICELL and TRAVELER are busy putting the finishing touches on various hot
dishes and conveying them to the dumbwaiter, while one floor up, CADO, Orpheus
and SIREN are taking them out and setting them on the banquet table. "So you
really saw Duran and EC on their yachts, back on Board Thirteen?" Trav says to
the Chef Lady.
"Well, maybe not really...if it was all an illusion..."
"I don't know. I mean, this is all virtual anyway. One more level of
virtuality doesn't make much difference if you think about it. And who knows?
Maybe the Man in Black _did_ throw you and GRAHAM to the sharks, and this is
all a fantasy going through your head in the last second of your life. As a
film critic I heard today on the radio said about a certain director's work,
'it's equal parts paranoia and anguish'." :)
At last the feast is set out, and the twelve members of the fellowship--plus
the bandaged Maharet, in a place of honor on a pillow at the head of the table-
-gather to dine. Jon Vallee has printed up menus in the Blue Room:
The Virtual Vax Cafe Farewell Banquet
----*----
D. du Vin Cellars 1993 Rose'
French bread from the bakeries of DIQMAN
Snowberg-lettuce-and-SPROUT salad
Roasted chicken glazed with Maple Cirop
Weil Rice a la Magistra
Assorted IISS creams
SYLVAR's fresh ground JAVA
They eat by candlelight, with music playing softly in the background courtesy
of Orpheus. There is much reminiscing. "Remember when Norm[tm] first set up
the Taco Bus across the street, when he was working for VENKMAN?" "Remember
what a madhouse this place was during the rave?" "Remember the battle for
Hexsum, when we were a medieval tavern?"
When the dishes are cleared away, Graham proposes a toast. "Here's to a place
where everyone knows your username...the Virtual Vax Cafe."
"To the VVC!" There is a loud clinking of glasses...and amidt this, a
shattering sound.
"Did someone break a glass?" Trav asks. "Not a big deal, really. In fact, we
may as well go downstairs and throw our glasses into the fireplace after we
drink, like the Czars used to do. We can be indulgent tonight..."
A cold draft extinguishes most of the candles on the table. They all turn
toward the western window, with its panoramic view of the sea. There is a
large hole in the glass, and the Man in Black stands just inside it.
"I'm for real this time," he says. "There will be no escape. I've pulled up
the anchors--we're a mile out to sea already, and taking on water from a hole I
knocked in the cellar wall. The balloon has been cut loose, slashed up and
thrown overboard."
"Why..." The irrelevant words die in Cado's mouth.
"Why am I destroying you? Because that is what I do." He walks to the head of
the table, standing behind Maharet's chair. She is hunkered down into her
pillow, fur bristling, staring up at him in fear; but everyone else is
standing, still holding their wine glasses. "But there is actually something
else I want this time. From you, ZOROASTER. I will not insult you by
pretending that if you give it to me, I will spare the lives of anyone here. I
will make you a very simple and immediate offer: if you give me what I want, I
will not kill your animal and your woman in front of you at this moment. If
you do not give me what I want, they will die now." He seizes Mahie by the
scruff of her neck--with, the others notice, a heavily gloved hand--and flicks
open a switchblade in the other. "What say? Shall I disembowel her on to one
of these serving platters?"
"What do you want." Zoroaster grates the words out dully, not a question but
an inevitability.
"The AW files. I know you are the one who has possession of them, and I know
you hid them in this Cafe--probably in your office safe. Lead me to them
immediately if you want me to stop doing this." He pushes the tip of the knife
against Maharet's tender belly, and draws it down a fraction of an inch,
yielding a swelling ruby of blood. Too scared and weakened to struggle, she
merely trembles in his grip.
Zoroaster flinches. "Stop. I'll take you."
The Man takes the knife away, but does not release Maharet. "Let us go then...
you and I."
Zoroaster looks at Traveler, then for a long moment at Daricell. He raises his
wineglass to his lips, and drains it in one slow drink. He carefully sets the
empty glass back on the table, upside down. Then he steps away and walks to
the head of the table.
"After you," the Man in Black says.
Blank-faced, Zoroaster leads the way to the door at the northeast corner of the
Atlantis Room. He stops there and turns. "Drop her."
The Man tosses Maharet away casually, like a piece of trash; she lands on her
feet nearby with a small yelp, then darts under the edge of a low-hanging
tablecloth.
Zoroaster opens the door and goes out, followed by the Man. Their footsteps
can be heard on the marble floor of the lobby, crossing to the P.I.'s office.
There is the rattle of the office door being unlocked, and then a firm click as
it is shut behind them.
No one moves, or dares draw breath.
A minute later, there comes a single scream: "NNOOOOOOOO!!!" It dies, and the
silence folds back around everything.
User: Traveler
Date: 31-Jan 08:52 PM 823121571
IV.259
The White Lodge
===============
The Man in Black returns with ZOROASTER's body in his arms. He walks around
from the door to the far side of the banquet table, and drops him roughly on to
it, knocking over dishes and glasses. The detective's once-immaculate white
tuxedo shirt is wet, red, wrinkled and torn. He does not move again.
The Man chuckles. In one hand, he holds a bloodstained manila envelope, which
he tucks inside his coat; in the other, his knife drips. He laugh on, more
loudly now, a deep and easy sound. Suddenly he stops, and looks coldly at the
southeastern door.
The door flies open, and GHOST steps in, wearing the black pants, boots and
sweater of a stealth commando. He steps aside for the person behind him: Sean
Connery. Connery wears a tuxedo, and walks forward to stand across the middle
of the table from the Man in Black. He fixes the Man with his craggy gaze.
"NnnnnNNO!" snarls the Man. "I...want...all...my...garmonbozia!"
^^^^^^^^^^^^
**pain and suffering --Op**
"You cannot take his soul," Connery says calmly. Then he steps forward a
couple inches.
The Man jumps back, growling. His eyes dart round the room. He whirls and
sprints toward the hole in the west window, diving through it head-first. A
second later there is a splash.
"The light shineth in darkness, and the darkness comprehended it not," says
Connery. "He is gone...for a good while, I think."
"How did you know to come?" GRAHAM says to Ghost.
"I had this weird dream the other night--about you and DARICELL and Elvis
Costello and Duran Duran...and, you know, _him_." Ghost points to the window.
"I figured something must be wrong. So I got in touch with my old friend, and
we came looking for you."
"You came too late for Zoroaster," Daricell says quietly, looking down. No one
replies.
Connery turns to Traveler. "We patched up the hole in your cellar. Water was
chest deep already, but I have a sump pump on the launch--it'll drain it in no
time."
"The launch?"
"Yes, I hired a motorboat from the marina. Not on par with Her Majesty's
finest, but it did the job. And I expect it'll serve to tow you back to land."
"We'd be much obliged."
Connery then goes over to Daricell, and talks in low tones for a few moments.
She nods agreement; then they come back over to the table. "If the rest of you
could clear the dishes and such away...the cloth shall be his winding-sheet."
Everything but Zoroaster's body is quickly taken off the table; Connery and
Daricell solemnly fold the sides of the tablecloth up over him, then the long
ends. Maharet emerges from her hiding place, and when the wrapping is done,
leaps on to the table and curls up sadly next to her master's corpse.
User: Traveler
Date: 31-Jan 09:26 PM
IV.260
Reductio Ad Absurdum
====================
Connery's pump is put to work in the cellar, and a towline is run between his
launch and the floating Cafe. When this work is done, the slow journey back to
land begins, Connery and GHOST riding in the boat while the others clean up
inside the VVC. There is great relief at the Man's flight, but muted sorrow
over the death of the detective.
The dark coast creeps into view around midnight. Soon TRAVELER, CADO, ECSTASY
and SIREN are busy securing the Cafe to the land once again. In the midst of
this, LOUCH rushes outside holding a portable radio. "There's been a coup in
the City!" she says. "A new government has taken over. They call themselves
the Hierarchy..."
"Turn it up," says Trav, running over. "I can't believe it's finally
happened."
The severe voice of a man with a German accent declaims over the airwaves.
"...and under the leadership of myself, Colonel Friederich Strassenecke, and
with the capable help of my allies, this City shall be remade! I promise you,
we shall do the will of the people, as the corrupt liberals before us never
did! I promise you, the streets will be safe again! I promise you, the trains
will run on time!"
"This is a good night to be leaving," Cado says.
"Yes, it is," Traveler says. "Well, folks, I'm officially releasing you from
your contracts. As of now, the Cafe is closed. If I were you, I'd start
making plans...it'd be smart to get out of the City any way you can."
They all head inside, to make phone calls, log on to travel services, and pack
up possessions. As Orpheus puts his records into crates, he plays a final
song: an extended mix of melancholy guitars, drums and synthesizers, over the
sounds of a chuffing locomotive and Tibetan chanting. It evokes final
leavetakings, and long journeys.
At last, SYLVAR, Siren, Louch, Daricell, GRAHAM, Ecstasy, Cado, Orpheus, and
Traveler gather out front next to Ghost and Connery, bringing bags, boxes and
suitcases with them. Graham looks up at the VVC. "Too bad we have to leave
this place behind."
Traveler shakes his head. "We can't fly her out of here...the balloon's gone.
And I don't think she's seaworthy after all the damage she's taken. I guess...
there's nothing to be done."
"Allow me to offer assistance," Connery says, walking over. "It's something Q
supplied me with--don't ask which Q, please. Haven't used it yet, but it might
be just the thing." He produces a long, narrow black cylinder and unscrews one
end.
"A poster tube?" Jon asks.
"A bit more than that, old chap." Connery slides a roll of blue paper out of
the tube, and spreads it out on the asphalt, weighting the corners with rocks.
"Now...everyone got all they need from inside, made all their calls, sent all
their e-mail? Gas and electrics turned off? Good. Let's stand back, then."
He aims the open end of the tube at the building, resting the length of it on
his shoulder like a bazooka. He presses some small buttons halfway along the
tube, and a row of red lights wink on above them. One by one, the lights turn
green. "Charging...here we go..."
A blinding sheet of light widens out from the mouth of the tube. It sweeps
across the Cafe, from left to right, with a loud rushing noise. Squinting in
the glare, the VVCers realize that where the light has passed, the building has
disappeared! After half a minute, the entire building and the adjoining
gardens have been scanned...and have vanished. Only a barren spit of land
remains, edged by overgrowth and woods to the north.
Connery points the tube at the paper spread out on the ground, and pushes
another button. The brilliant light pours out again, scrolling across the
blue sheet. When it is done, a detailed set of blueprints has been inscribed.
Traveler smiles and claps, and the others join in applauding. Connery picks
up the paper and shows it the proprietor--there are actually several sheets
beneath the top one, each bearing a different view or floor plan of the VVC.
"There's your entire Cafe, in reduced form. It'll work the other way just as
easily...in theory, at least." He rolls up the plans, puts them in the tube,
screws on the cap, and hands them to Traveler. "It's all stored in cyberspace,
or hyperspace, or something."
"Hypercyberspace?" Sylvar ventures.
"Right," says Connery vaguely. "Now, I must be going. Daricell has agreed
that I should take ZOROASTER with me."
"Take him where?" SIREN asks.
"To the place where secret agents go when they've done all they can, and
earned a rest." He smiles. "Or...to the deathless lands of the West.
However you choose to see it. Goodbye!"
He boards the motorboat, where the white-shrouded body already lies amidships,
and guns the engine. Ghost steps forward. "Oops... gotta run. He's my ride.
See you all later!"
Maharet has been circulating among the VVCers, rubbing against legs and
watching the goings-on. Now she trots out in front and gazes as Ghost walks
toward the boat. She looks back at the others and meows once.
"Do you want to go with your master, Mahie?" Daricell asks, kneeling and
extending a hand. Maharet steps over and accepts a scratch under the chin.
"Perhaps you should. Just come back and visit us, okay?" Maharet gives the
Dark Lady's hand a quick lick, and purrs. Then she turns and scampers to the
shore, leaping into the boat as Ghost undoes the mooring lines. Ghost and
Connery wave, then the boat roars away into the water, toward the dim horizon.
User: Traveler has one more post to go...
Date: 31-Jan 08:54 PM 823121779
IV.261
The Final Chapter
=================
A string of taxis are coming up the Bay Road now, and pulling into the parking
lot. The first is for GRAHAM and DARICELL. The driver loads their luggage,
while they give goodbye hugs (and from Graham to Traveler, a kiss). "I'll meet
you at the station," he says to her. "I just want to make sure everyone else
gets away okay. Hey, look out for killers disguised as pop stars."
"Always," Daricell says.
"See you at the meeting place, when the whistle blows," Graham says, smiling.
Then she and Daricell climb into the taxi, and it heads away north.
The next cab is for LOUCH, SIREN, and ECSTASY, and they are taking Orpheus with
them. "Tell his mother we'll take good care of him," X says to Traveler.
"Very good care...we've pooled our savings and booked a cabin on a luxury
liner. It leaves tonight, for a lengthy trip around the world."
"Bon voyage!" says Jon Vallee. "May we land at the same port again soon."
And their taxi heads south, to the marina.
There is one more car waiting. "I guess this is ours," CADO says to Trav.
"You'll ride to the airport with Jon and me?"
"Sure...and then on to the train s--" The driver has loaded CADO's and
SYLVAR's bags, and is reaching for Trav's, when the proprietor stops him.
"There's another car coming."
"Let's get going!"
"No, wait; I have a feeling it's okay." Traveler watches as the headlights
near. As the vehicle pulls into the lot, they can see it is a plain black
police sedan, driven by Captain Peugeot. The captain gets out, swigging from
a glass bottle of soda.
"Traveler. I have been sent to find you...by the leaders of the new
government. They...would like to speak with you, would like you to assist them
with certain inquiries."
"A polite way of saying you're here to arrest me. What's that you're drinking,
mon capitan?"
"Ah...'Diet Dr. Venkman'. The Hierarchy has stock in the bottling company.
They've been distributing free crates in the streets, to appease the people."
Peugeot takes another swallow. "Wretched stuff, actually."
"We've got a taxi here that's waiting to take us to the airfield," Cado says.
"We could make sure you couldn't do anything about it."
Peugeot sighs. "What makes you think I want to stop you? I don't think I
like my new masters. Didn't like the old ones, either, but these are worse.
Hmmm...." He inspects the bottle of soda, then pitches it to the other end of
the parking lot, where it shatters. "Gentlemen, I will not stop you from
going to the airfield, the train station, wherever you want. But they are
checking visas closely, everywhere. You two would get through. Traveler
would not."
"Any suggestions?" Traveler asks.
"They can go. You come with me, in my car. We'll drive right through the
center of town...and out the other side."
"A desert run?"
"No one will stop the police chief's car. Yes...we will go east, I think, to
the Other Side." He shrugs. "A big step...but now is perhaps a good time to
make it..."
* * * *
Strassenecke stands on the balcony of the City government's offices, waving to
the throngs in the square below. He smiles broadly beneath the floodlights.
_Reassure them, let them know there is a strong hand at the rudder. That is
what people want...not freedom, but a strong hand. And I have what I want
now, too...I, one of the chosen few, made to lead..._
He gives a last wave and turns to reenter his office. The room is lit only
by a green-shaded desk lamp, and at first the dazzle in his eyes masks the
dark figure in the corner from his vision.
"Oh--ah, it's you. Back again? What can we do for you?"
"You can do what all men do before me," the Man in Black says. "Perish."
"We had an _agreement_!" Strassenecke says angrily.
"I found your AW files for you, because it amused me to do so. You used them
to take over the City." He shrugs. "And you thought I would just...go away,
like a good dog?"
"No, you cannot do this. I rule here now! I hold the keys to all rewards, and
punishments..."
"I cannot be punished, and I know only one reward. You were a fool,
Strassenecke, like Frost before you, thinking you could use me for your petty
schemes. Now, it is time to pay the piper. Come to me..."
* * * *
Siren, Louch, Ecstasy and Orpheus make their way up the gangplank of the S.S.
Fantasia, porters following with their luggage. "To think they really believed
we're sisters, and Orphy is our nephew," Siren says.
"Of course, dear Seymour. It's the truth, isn't it?" Ecstasy says. "Just
remember to stick to that story."
"Let's find our cabin quickly," Louch says. "I want to check out the disco.
Think they'll let Orpheus do any spinning?"
"When they see how talented he is? No doubt," says Siren. "Ah, this is gonna
be great! You know, I hear the skipper's pretty cute. He's an admiral, in
fact...from what fleet, I'm not sure. I think his name starts with T..."
* * * *
Graham and Daricell are at the train station, amidst utter chaos. Almost
every train out of the City is jammed tonight; a rainstorm has just swept in
from the north, adding to the confusion. Graham stands on the platform,
scanning the crowds in frustration, and looking periodically at the big clock
on the wall.
Daricell comes up. "Any luck?"
"I haven't seen him! We can't wait much longer...there won't be any seats
left! Do you think...something happened?"
"Don't worry...I'm sure he's okay. Listen, let's go ahead and buy tickets--
we'll get one for him, too." They push through the mob, joining a long line
at the ticket windows. Daricell scans the schedule board. "Well, so far the
Hierarchy has definitely _not_ made the trains run on time. Hmm...there's the
last train to Lhasa--Trav would probably like that...oh, but it's just been
filled. Looks like the only thing left tonight is an express to Chelsea."
Graham looks disgusted. "I don't _want_ to go to Chelsea."
A voice is dimly audible over the P.A. system. "Ms. Graham to the courtesy
desk please...there is a message for you...Ms. Graham to the courtesy desk..."
The two friends struggle to the appropriate window, where an agent hands
Graham a folded note. As she opens it and reads it, the wind blows gusts of
rain under the overhang, drenching them with cold spray and smearing the ink
of the note:
Dearest Graham:
Can't get to the station. P. and I are driving across the desert
--it's the only way I can leave the City. See you on the Other Side,
very soon!
Yours,
TRAVELER
P.S. Don't sleep in the subway...don't sleep in the pouring rain...
"He's all right!" Graham says.
"Not to be grim, but are you sure the note's not fake?"
"Yes...he signed it with his little looping arrow symbol. And quoted Peter
Murphy." She smiles.
Daricell spies something down at one end of the station. "Hey, this may be
the ticket..." She and Graham make their way to the edge of the platform.
Parked outside is a charter bus; the sign above the windshield says NEW
AMSTERDAM. The driver, an odd, geeky sort with thick glasses and terrible
teeth, is fiddling with the turn signals and windshield wipers, as if he's
not sure exactly how to drive the thing. So far, very few people have
boarded the bus.
"Whaddaya think?"
"Well, he doesn't look too sharp," Graham says. "But he's definitely not a
murderer in disguise. As long as he doesn't get us killed by a ten-ton
truck or a double-decker bus or something..."
Daricell smirks. "Let's take a chance!" They grab their bags, and dash out
into the rain, toward the bus...
* * * *
At the City Airfield, Cado and Sylvar stand just inside the terminal,
watching planes come and go. A fog is rolling in from the south, and there
are rumors that flights may be delayed. "It wouldn't be good for us to hang
around much longer," Jon murmurs to his companion. "Sooner or later, they'll
realize who we are. And under this new government, I'm sure that being an
ex-VVC employee automatically makes you a subversive."
"Heck, it was almost that way under the _old_ government," Cado cracks.
"Well, what should we do?"
"Hmm." The coffee man studies a small aircraft sitting outside a hangar a
few hundred feet away. It has just been refueled, but no one is currently
near it. "Ever fly one of those before?"
"Something like it, during my military training. Are you suggesting--"
"I've played a fair amount of Flight Simulator in my day...so I at least know
what the inside of a cockpit looks like. And piloting a balloon-cafe through
fourteen boards of lunacy surely counts for something, doesn't it?"
"You think we should...steal it?" Cado laughs nervously.
"Borrow it...for a while. Are you game?"
"Well...sure! Heh. Come on, let's slip out the side door." In a few
moments, they are walking quickly across the tarmac, through the fog, carrying
their bags with them. The plane looms ahead. "Think we'll make it past the
tower?"
"In this weather, they'll never see us. We'll just have to stay below radar.
You know, Cado, this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship..." :)
* * * *
Peugeot's car speeds down the central boulevard, toward the easternmost gate
in the old City wall. The gendarmes at the checkpoint recognize the car as
it approaches, and wave it through.
"That was easy!" says Traveler.
"Did I not say it would be, mon amis? Oh, you may turn on the radio and find
some music...it will be a long drive."
Trav clicks the radio on, and turns the tuning dial. He catches a fragment
of ethereal techno music, a woman's voice singing wordlessly over a poignant
four-chord synth progression, a dark bassline, and a spare beat. Then the
signal dissolves into static.
The City lights fade behind them, and the little car is swallowed up by the
desert night. Traveler points at the sky. "Look...what are those lights?"
"Ah, it's the rare desert aurora. They say it represents the souls of the
dead, leaving their bodies and flying across heaven to be reborn. I say it's
a nuisance that interferes with my radio, but what do I know?"
Peugeot twirls the radio knob, and finds another station. An old tune comes
dimly through the speakers:
We'll meet again,
don't know where,
don't know when...
"Yes, we will," Traveler murmurs, smiling. "We will. I'm sure of it..."
T H E E N D
:)
User: Traveler
Date: 31-Jan 08:57 PM 823121892