how about the furuteramaesque heads in jars?
Martha stewart driving a peewee. A bit disturbing if you ask me...
Darkside
Moderator: Moderators
The end of the first part is near, the beggining of a new chapter is closer...
Peter kept walking. The dot was getting close. ├óÔé¼┼ôI'm not really what they think i am├óÔé¼┬Ø The woman in the red dress said, keeping up with his brisk pace, but still looking like she was gracefully walking. ├óÔé¼┼ôThey think I'm the seductress, meant to distract and befuddle you├óÔé¼┬Ø she said. Her dress was split down the middle, slowly spreading from below her breasts and closing again at her pelvis. Peter ignored it.
├óÔé¼┼ôI am wisdom in disguise├óÔé¼┬Ø she said, looking at him ├óÔé¼┼ôI am victory incognito├óÔé¼┬Ø. Peter ignored her. ├óÔé¼┼ôI am leaving soon. They heard what they wanted too, and think my part is done. Remember me!├óÔé¼┬Ø She said, her voice raising in volume as Peter passed her. She remained behind, her feet planted in one place. She drifted off into the distance, staying a single red dot of color in Hell.
Peter kept looking at the black dot. It was larger then he had thought, and began to tower tall into the sky as he got closer to it. The red dot behind him...vanished as if it never were.
├óÔé¼┼ôThis man is a machine!
├óÔé¼┼ôI thought that was the plan├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôNo...he rejected the woman in the red dress, didn't even look at her├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôStill going to the carrot?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôStraight line├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôInteresting...lets add some more mods in there, shake things up├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat are you thinking, scary monsters?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThat has the unfortunate side effect of driving the last ten subjects crazy├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôGood point...├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôSeduction didn't work...at least not that kind├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôcall up his relation file and a more detailed psych report├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôOhohoho...├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYou've got that evil look in your eye's again├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôLook at this├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôLove those tattoo's...├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôPeter├óÔé¼┬Ø. Peter turned around. Liz stood there too. She held up two mechanical hands ├óÔé¼┼ôThey got me too├óÔé¼┬Ø.
---------------------
Liz woke up in bed, and wondered how she had gotten there. ├óÔé¼┼ôSo you're awake├óÔé¼┬Ø Amber said, looking at her severely. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat happened├óÔé¼┬Ø Liz asked, looking around. ├óÔé¼┼ôI'll tell you what happened├óÔé¼┬Ø Amber said, a edge in her voice. Liz had time to think This can't be good before Amber started on her tirade.
├óÔé¼┼ôSo you took Peter into a cyberbar├óÔé¼┬Ø note the emphasize on cyberbar ├óÔé¼┼ôAKA the hot spot for young couples to fuck. Then you type in the standard Nymphs scenario. The most popular tyrist program around. Peter, for gods sake! A man that we still barely know├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôI'm not a kid, Amberly├óÔé¼┬Ø Liz said, sitting up in bed ├óÔé¼┼ôI know what i want to do...and what is it YOUR responsibility to care who I sleep with, or if i sleep with him. which i didn't├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôYeah, only cause you swooned in his arms├óÔé¼┬Ø Amber spat back. Liz stood up, facing Amber ├óÔé¼┼ôIT is NONE of your business, bitch├óÔé¼┬Ø. Amber's face hardened. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat did you say?├óÔé¼┬Ø she asked quietly. Liz leaned in and said with almost gleeful abandon, ├óÔé¼┼ôBitch├óÔé¼┬Ø.
├óÔé¼┼ôLook who is talking├óÔé¼┬Ø Amber said ├óÔé¼┼ôYou're ready to jump into his bed right now, aren't you├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôEven if i did, which i don't, it is none of your business, and if you ever had the guts to ask-├óÔé¼┬Ø. Amber slapped her, turned around and walked out. Liz felt her cheek as if it wasn't part of her body. Then she sat down on the bed and stared at the wall, wondering what had gone wrong.
The Marshall walked down the corridor, hoping to see if Liz had woken up. He hadn't planned to put her to sleep, but he had pressed a little too hard on the wrong part of Liz's spine, so rather then pleasure he had put her to sleep. Fortunately not permanently. Amber was practically running down the hallway, her face livid. ├óÔé¼┼ôWha-├óÔé¼┬Ø the Marshall was about to ask what was wrong. ├óÔé¼┼ôFuck you!├óÔé¼┬Ø Amber practically shouted as she strode forcefully past. Liz followed behind, a fading red mark on her left cheek. ├óÔé¼┼ôAmber jus-├óÔé¼┬Ø the Marshall started to say. ├óÔé¼┼ôFuck you!├óÔé¼┬Ø Liz shouted at him, tears running down her face.
Olivia walked far more sedately by, reading a data slate. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat the hell is going on?├óÔé¼┬Ø the Marshall asked Olivia, completely flummoxed. ├óÔé¼┼ôApparently they wan't to fuck you├óÔé¼┬Ø Olivia said, with a perfect dead pan. ├óÔé¼┼ôWell...fuck them!├óÔé¼┬Ø The Marshall shouted down the hallway, feeling completely lost in the complex pathways of human relationships. ├óÔé¼┼ôLife was so much simpler in the ESR├óÔé¼┬Ø he muttered to himself, walking to his quarter.
Olivia barely caught what he said. She looked after him, and wondered.
----------------------------
Peter's reaction could not be described as elegant. ├óÔé¼┼ôAre you Okay!├óÔé¼┬Ø he asked, running to Liz. He felt an amazing rush of not just relief at seeing a familiar face, but also pure honest lust. He hadn't seen a real woman in...days? Weeks? Longer, perhaps. ├óÔé¼┼ôNo├óÔé¼┬Ø she said, looking scared ├óÔé¼┼ôBut...he took me too├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôMe?├óÔé¼┬Ø Peter asked ├óÔé¼┼ôbut...not me├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôIt was him├óÔé¼┬Ø Liz said, starting to cry ├óÔé¼┼ôThe Marshall├óÔé¼┬Ø.
Peter had thought that it might have been him, but now he knew. And knowing was everything. He hugged Liz tight, and looked over her shoulder. His hands spasmed, Fortunately not holding any part of Liz. ├óÔé¼┼ôListen├óÔé¼┬Ø Liz said ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat are we going to do?├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôI don't know├óÔé¼┬Ø Peter said, looking at her ├óÔé¼┼ôBut, see that black dot over there├óÔé¼┬Ø he said, pointing. It was a bit more then a dot now, but he still called it such.
├óÔé¼┼ôYeah├óÔé¼┬Ø Liz said, starting to get some control over herself. She wiped the tears away, her tattoo's looking luminous under the lights of Hell. Peter thought had never been more beautiful then now. ├óÔé¼┼ôLets go├óÔé¼┬Ø he said, and they both set out, Liz and Peter side by side. ├óÔé¼┼ôHow did he get you?├óÔé¼┬Ø Peter asked a little afraid of the answer. ├óÔé¼┼ôHe...well├óÔé¼┬Ø Liz looked a little abashed. ├óÔé¼┼ôhe didn't├óÔé¼┬Ø Peter said, looking at her.
├óÔé¼┬ØWow, the old Marshall is really out and about on Leviathan...or did you make that all up?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôIts semiplausible├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôOnly semi?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôIts all the subject needs. He's tired and in need of companion ship├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôA certain kind of companion ship├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôIf both he and...'Liz' Transcend and keep there natural instincts of procreation we might have a fool proof way of getting Transcendi without all this brainwashing├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYeah right, you just want to watch a free porno show, don't you├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôNo...what we are doing here is not just a job...its the future of the human race├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôToo me its always going to be a job├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThen you wont make a very good Transcendi├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat, and give up sex?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Peter tried not to think about Liz's body with...his. In bed, with him. ├óÔé¼┼ôHe was exactly like you├óÔé¼┬Ø Liz said defensively ├óÔé¼┼ôI didn't know├óÔé¼┬Ø. Peter grinned ├óÔé¼┼ôDon't worry├óÔé¼┬Ø Peter said ├óÔé¼┼ôI'll take it as a compliment├óÔé¼┬Ø. Liz frowned ├óÔé¼┼ôThat you are so easily impersonated├óÔé¼┬Ø she pointed out. ├óÔé¼┼ôNo, no no...no├óÔé¼┬Ø Peter said quickly ├óÔé¼┼ôJust that...well... you like me├óÔé¼┬Ø.
├óÔé¼┼ôLike you?├óÔé¼┬Ø Liz snorted ├óÔé¼┼ôHe was really good in bed├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôWell how would you be able to contrast with out knowing the actual thing?├óÔé¼┬Ø Peter asked, his voice completely normal. Liz thought about it for a moment. Then she started to laugh. A quick, spitfire giggle made more out of desperation then actual humor. Peter's mouth split and he started to laugh too.
Peter kept walking. The dot was getting close. ├óÔé¼┼ôI'm not really what they think i am├óÔé¼┬Ø The woman in the red dress said, keeping up with his brisk pace, but still looking like she was gracefully walking. ├óÔé¼┼ôThey think I'm the seductress, meant to distract and befuddle you├óÔé¼┬Ø she said. Her dress was split down the middle, slowly spreading from below her breasts and closing again at her pelvis. Peter ignored it.
├óÔé¼┼ôI am wisdom in disguise├óÔé¼┬Ø she said, looking at him ├óÔé¼┼ôI am victory incognito├óÔé¼┬Ø. Peter ignored her. ├óÔé¼┼ôI am leaving soon. They heard what they wanted too, and think my part is done. Remember me!├óÔé¼┬Ø She said, her voice raising in volume as Peter passed her. She remained behind, her feet planted in one place. She drifted off into the distance, staying a single red dot of color in Hell.
Peter kept looking at the black dot. It was larger then he had thought, and began to tower tall into the sky as he got closer to it. The red dot behind him...vanished as if it never were.
├óÔé¼┼ôThis man is a machine!
├óÔé¼┼ôI thought that was the plan├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôNo...he rejected the woman in the red dress, didn't even look at her├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôStill going to the carrot?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôStraight line├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôInteresting...lets add some more mods in there, shake things up├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat are you thinking, scary monsters?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThat has the unfortunate side effect of driving the last ten subjects crazy├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôGood point...├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôSeduction didn't work...at least not that kind├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôcall up his relation file and a more detailed psych report├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôOhohoho...├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYou've got that evil look in your eye's again├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôLook at this├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôLove those tattoo's...├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôPeter├óÔé¼┬Ø. Peter turned around. Liz stood there too. She held up two mechanical hands ├óÔé¼┼ôThey got me too├óÔé¼┬Ø.
---------------------
Liz woke up in bed, and wondered how she had gotten there. ├óÔé¼┼ôSo you're awake├óÔé¼┬Ø Amber said, looking at her severely. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat happened├óÔé¼┬Ø Liz asked, looking around. ├óÔé¼┼ôI'll tell you what happened├óÔé¼┬Ø Amber said, a edge in her voice. Liz had time to think This can't be good before Amber started on her tirade.
├óÔé¼┼ôSo you took Peter into a cyberbar├óÔé¼┬Ø note the emphasize on cyberbar ├óÔé¼┼ôAKA the hot spot for young couples to fuck. Then you type in the standard Nymphs scenario. The most popular tyrist program around. Peter, for gods sake! A man that we still barely know├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôI'm not a kid, Amberly├óÔé¼┬Ø Liz said, sitting up in bed ├óÔé¼┼ôI know what i want to do...and what is it YOUR responsibility to care who I sleep with, or if i sleep with him. which i didn't├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôYeah, only cause you swooned in his arms├óÔé¼┬Ø Amber spat back. Liz stood up, facing Amber ├óÔé¼┼ôIT is NONE of your business, bitch├óÔé¼┬Ø. Amber's face hardened. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat did you say?├óÔé¼┬Ø she asked quietly. Liz leaned in and said with almost gleeful abandon, ├óÔé¼┼ôBitch├óÔé¼┬Ø.
├óÔé¼┼ôLook who is talking├óÔé¼┬Ø Amber said ├óÔé¼┼ôYou're ready to jump into his bed right now, aren't you├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôEven if i did, which i don't, it is none of your business, and if you ever had the guts to ask-├óÔé¼┬Ø. Amber slapped her, turned around and walked out. Liz felt her cheek as if it wasn't part of her body. Then she sat down on the bed and stared at the wall, wondering what had gone wrong.
The Marshall walked down the corridor, hoping to see if Liz had woken up. He hadn't planned to put her to sleep, but he had pressed a little too hard on the wrong part of Liz's spine, so rather then pleasure he had put her to sleep. Fortunately not permanently. Amber was practically running down the hallway, her face livid. ├óÔé¼┼ôWha-├óÔé¼┬Ø the Marshall was about to ask what was wrong. ├óÔé¼┼ôFuck you!├óÔé¼┬Ø Amber practically shouted as she strode forcefully past. Liz followed behind, a fading red mark on her left cheek. ├óÔé¼┼ôAmber jus-├óÔé¼┬Ø the Marshall started to say. ├óÔé¼┼ôFuck you!├óÔé¼┬Ø Liz shouted at him, tears running down her face.
Olivia walked far more sedately by, reading a data slate. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat the hell is going on?├óÔé¼┬Ø the Marshall asked Olivia, completely flummoxed. ├óÔé¼┼ôApparently they wan't to fuck you├óÔé¼┬Ø Olivia said, with a perfect dead pan. ├óÔé¼┼ôWell...fuck them!├óÔé¼┬Ø The Marshall shouted down the hallway, feeling completely lost in the complex pathways of human relationships. ├óÔé¼┼ôLife was so much simpler in the ESR├óÔé¼┬Ø he muttered to himself, walking to his quarter.
Olivia barely caught what he said. She looked after him, and wondered.
----------------------------
Peter's reaction could not be described as elegant. ├óÔé¼┼ôAre you Okay!├óÔé¼┬Ø he asked, running to Liz. He felt an amazing rush of not just relief at seeing a familiar face, but also pure honest lust. He hadn't seen a real woman in...days? Weeks? Longer, perhaps. ├óÔé¼┼ôNo├óÔé¼┬Ø she said, looking scared ├óÔé¼┼ôBut...he took me too├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôMe?├óÔé¼┬Ø Peter asked ├óÔé¼┼ôbut...not me├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôIt was him├óÔé¼┬Ø Liz said, starting to cry ├óÔé¼┼ôThe Marshall├óÔé¼┬Ø.
Peter had thought that it might have been him, but now he knew. And knowing was everything. He hugged Liz tight, and looked over her shoulder. His hands spasmed, Fortunately not holding any part of Liz. ├óÔé¼┼ôListen├óÔé¼┬Ø Liz said ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat are we going to do?├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôI don't know├óÔé¼┬Ø Peter said, looking at her ├óÔé¼┼ôBut, see that black dot over there├óÔé¼┬Ø he said, pointing. It was a bit more then a dot now, but he still called it such.
├óÔé¼┼ôYeah├óÔé¼┬Ø Liz said, starting to get some control over herself. She wiped the tears away, her tattoo's looking luminous under the lights of Hell. Peter thought had never been more beautiful then now. ├óÔé¼┼ôLets go├óÔé¼┬Ø he said, and they both set out, Liz and Peter side by side. ├óÔé¼┼ôHow did he get you?├óÔé¼┬Ø Peter asked a little afraid of the answer. ├óÔé¼┼ôHe...well├óÔé¼┬Ø Liz looked a little abashed. ├óÔé¼┼ôhe didn't├óÔé¼┬Ø Peter said, looking at her.
├óÔé¼┬ØWow, the old Marshall is really out and about on Leviathan...or did you make that all up?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôIts semiplausible├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôOnly semi?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôIts all the subject needs. He's tired and in need of companion ship├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôA certain kind of companion ship├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôIf both he and...'Liz' Transcend and keep there natural instincts of procreation we might have a fool proof way of getting Transcendi without all this brainwashing├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYeah right, you just want to watch a free porno show, don't you├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôNo...what we are doing here is not just a job...its the future of the human race├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôToo me its always going to be a job├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThen you wont make a very good Transcendi├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat, and give up sex?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Peter tried not to think about Liz's body with...his. In bed, with him. ├óÔé¼┼ôHe was exactly like you├óÔé¼┬Ø Liz said defensively ├óÔé¼┼ôI didn't know├óÔé¼┬Ø. Peter grinned ├óÔé¼┼ôDon't worry├óÔé¼┬Ø Peter said ├óÔé¼┼ôI'll take it as a compliment├óÔé¼┬Ø. Liz frowned ├óÔé¼┼ôThat you are so easily impersonated├óÔé¼┬Ø she pointed out. ├óÔé¼┼ôNo, no no...no├óÔé¼┬Ø Peter said quickly ├óÔé¼┼ôJust that...well... you like me├óÔé¼┬Ø.
├óÔé¼┼ôLike you?├óÔé¼┬Ø Liz snorted ├óÔé¼┼ôHe was really good in bed├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôWell how would you be able to contrast with out knowing the actual thing?├óÔé¼┬Ø Peter asked, his voice completely normal. Liz thought about it for a moment. Then she started to laugh. A quick, spitfire giggle made more out of desperation then actual humor. Peter's mouth split and he started to laugh too.
-
Archangel of Death
- Posts: 854
- Joined: 28 Jan 2005, 18:15
Now i could just keep not writing and leave you all in suspence...but i'm just not a cruel man.
Just send me money...TRUCK LODES AND TRUCK LODES OF MONEY!!!!!!!!
MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH
Peter forced his eye's open. They opened as if they had been glued shut, and the first thing he noticed was a lack of light. He felt the small irritation of constant white light vanish. He felt so much better. But he couldn't move. He looked left and right with his eye's, trying to see his surroundings. He saw dank metal walls, some machinery and a flash of red that moved aside quickly. ├óÔé¼┼ôDon't move, don't think├óÔé¼┬Ø a voice said.
It was light, feminine and slightly familiar. ├óÔé¼┼ôListen├óÔé¼┬Ø the voice said ├óÔé¼┼ôI have pulled you out. They are trying to break you, like Oedipus. Plucking your eye's out...one...by one├óÔé¼┬Ø. Peter felt finger's slid over his cheeks. They were incredibly soft and feathery ├óÔé¼┼ôYou're face will be easy to remember├óÔé¼┬Ø The voice said ├óÔé¼┼ôWhich is good...quite good├óÔé¼┬Ø.
Peter forced his mouth open but felt a finger place itself over it. He closed it. ├óÔé¼┼ôDon't think, if you think you'll never know├óÔé¼┬Ø the voice said ├óÔé¼┼ôNow you'll be put back in. They think You're sleeping, but for the first time You're awake├óÔé¼┬Ø. Peter wondered what the hell that meant. ├óÔé¼┼ôThe woman, the striped and black one...she is really as far away as you can be, but at the same time is close...in here├óÔé¼┬Ø Peter felt a tap on his heart.
├óÔé¼┼ôThe one...in the waking dream. She must be killed├óÔé¼┬Ø the voice said ├óÔé¼┼ôExamine the little flaw's and the entire statue will collapse├óÔé¼┬Ø. Peter felt his eye's falling. ├óÔé¼┼ôYour fading fast├óÔé¼┬Ø The voice said ├óÔé¼┼ôReady to wake up again, and be dreaming├óÔé¼┬Ø. His eye's closed but he heard one last sentence trick through his mind ├óÔé¼┼ôTrust your limbs├óÔé¼┬Ø.
Peter woke up, sitting up slowly. The white light from every were beat around him. He looked at Liz, who was still asleep. Little flaws, the voice had said. He looked at Liz. She seemed real. He gently brushed her hair aside and. His hand came up blank on the DNA scan. He looked at his hand, at the limb that had never failed to verify that his body was 100% made up of his DNA. He rolled Liz over experimentally. She didn't wake up. He brushed aside any second thoughts and pulled her shirt up and revealing her chest. The tattoo was wrong. It was just a straight line. He had seen imitators do better jobs then this.
He examined her entire body, finding things that just didn't add up. The tattoo. The skin was a different shade. Her body below her thighs was white. Things that just didn't make since. Also the fact that while he removed her clothes, looked her over and examined her she hadn't waken up. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou're not real├óÔé¼┬Ø Peter said, anger building. ├óÔé¼┼ôNothing here is REAL!├óÔé¼┬Ø He shouted.
├óÔé¼┼ôOh fuck!├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWe go away for five minuets and the subject strip searches our simulacrum and finds out the errors├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôErrors?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôShe wasn't in the database. I had to be a little touch and go, so sue me├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWe are so fucked├óÔé¼┬Ø [i/]
Peter looked at Liz. Except she was not Liz. She was a fake. Just like the Marshall, who had put him here. Just like the place he was in. He placed his foot on her neck and pressed down. The back of his mind screamed at him that this was Liz. This was Liz! Her eye's snapped open as he increased the pressure. She looked at Peter imploringly. Liz! Liz! Liz!. He lessened his foot slightly.
Then he saw the tattoo. He pressed his foot down and felt a meaty crunch. He removed his foot and the simulacrum flailed slightly, making gasping breathy noises, her air pipe completely crushed. Then it died, the simulated light going out of its unreal eyes. Peter stood up slightly straighter as the corpse shimmered away, fading out of existence.
├óÔé¼┼ôI think he's found a way out...├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat do you mean by that?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôHe's found out the important thing about the I/O interface├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhich is?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôSo he can write program├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThrough sheer force of will, but he can do it├óÔé¼┬Ø
Peter got up, out of bed and realized that he was out. He had simply...thought about it and he had gotten out. He looked around. His hands were metal, and all the other limbs he had lost were metal. His left foot. A small chunk of his stomach. A metal plate in his brain. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou did it├óÔé¼┬Ø the voice said behind him ├óÔé¼┼ôYou've taken one step into the intergalactic chess board├óÔé¼┬Ø.
He turned around and saw that the voice was the woman in the red dress.
├óÔé¼┼ôAll right├óÔé¼┬Ø Marco said, looking at his dinner table. Peter sat at the far far end, roughly two chairs away from Liz and Amber. The only one close to him was a robotic servitor that slowly trundled around the table, its spindly legs finishing in wheel's. The bulbs body of the servitor had a tray of drinks that slowly rotated as the servitor made its rounds. Peter grabbed a slender cup of green liquid that had two cubes of hot ice to create a fog effect. He sipped it experimentally.
Liz sat four chairs away from Peter, and four chairs away from Amber. She would glance at Peter every once and a while, but spent most of her time blistering the paint off the wall with her glare. Amber was the least angry looking of the three. She stared fixedly at Marco and Olivia, who were standing at the head of the table, and refused to move her neck from its obviously uncomfortable position.
├óÔé¼┼ôAll right├óÔé¼┬Ø Marco said again, grasping for words. ├óÔé¼┼ôOlivia and I have conferred for quite a while and have come to the conclusion that we need to find out what the hell is going on. What is happening├óÔé¼┬Ø Marco grinned ├óÔé¼┼ôI love a mystery. I actually own the third, and most ancient, reprint of the adventures of Sherlock Holmes, and this is a delightfully little puzzle├óÔé¼┬Ø. Marco begin to pace around the table ├óÔé¼┼ôAmberly's drug's├óÔé¼┬Ø Marco said, pulling a hypo needle out of one of his deep pockets ├óÔé¼┼ôWhich don't confer to any known chemical on the market├óÔé¼┬Ø.
Amber looked at him ├óÔé¼┼ôI borrowed one from you last visit... purely scientific interest├óÔé¼┬Ø. Amber snorted ├óÔé¼┼ôAsk next time├óÔé¼┬Ø she muttered. Marco resumed his pacing ├óÔé¼┼ôThe Mr. Owens, that our good Elizabeth picked up almost as an after thought. He is the most puzzling of all├óÔé¼┬Ø. He finally reached Peter and clasped the other man's shoulder ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd now we get to you├óÔé¼┬Ø.
The Marshall's heart started to beat faster. Did Marco know? Impossible. But still. He looked at the vampire's gloved hand and gulped. ├óÔé¼┼ôNo need to look so frightened├óÔé¼┬Ø Marco whispered into his ear. ├óÔé¼┼ôPeter has, by far, had the most interesting trip├óÔé¼┬Ø. If only you knew The Marshall thought wryly. ├óÔé¼┼ôFirst you left your home, only to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Your cruise liner was destroyed, as we all know. But you have also been dogged by an...interesting individual├óÔé¼┬Ø.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat?├óÔé¼┬Ø Peter asked, looking even more frightened. Amber cracked a grin at his discomfort. ├óÔé¼┼ôMy...rather well paid informers have told me that Leviathan picked up a single one man star ship dock with a unused access port, roughly at the edge of where the wall meets the hyperdiamond├óÔé¼┬Ø. Marco resumed his walk, plucking a drink from the servitor. ├óÔé¼┼ôThis individual was tracked for five minuets before he completely and utterly vanished off of the Leviathan's security defenses├óÔé¼┬Ø.
The Marshall felt a slight panic rise in his stomach. He had to leave, before any thing unmasked him. Why he was so afraid was beyond him. He could kill them all in a few seconds if his cover was blown. ├óÔé¼┼ôBut this man, I believe, will not make his move├óÔé¼┬Ø Marco continued, taking his damn sweet time with dramatics. ├óÔé¼┼ôUntil, at least, he finds what he wants├óÔé¼┬Ø Marco finished. ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd he wants├óÔé¼┬Ø Liz asked getting a little fed up with Marco's melodrama too.
├óÔé¼┼ôOwens├óÔé¼┬Ø Peter said dully. Amber, Liz and Marco looked at him. Amber nodded slowly ├óÔé¼┼ôYou think its the Marshall?├óÔé¼┬Ø she asked. ├óÔé¼┼ôI have a feeling that it is├óÔé¼┬Ø Peter said, slowly leaning backwards into his chair, which creaked slowly in the sudden silence. ├óÔé¼┼ôGod damn├óÔé¼┬Ø Liz muttered. ├óÔé¼┼ôWould this be a problem?├óÔé¼┬Ø Marco asked ├óÔé¼┼ôI don't know anything about a...Marshall├óÔé¼┬Ø.
├óÔé¼┼ôThe Marshall├óÔé¼┬Ø The Marshall corrected him. If they could become a bit more paranoid they would trust him more. As long as he could direct there paranoia to the outside.
That was how to do it...
Just send me money...TRUCK LODES AND TRUCK LODES OF MONEY!!!!!!!!
MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH
Peter forced his eye's open. They opened as if they had been glued shut, and the first thing he noticed was a lack of light. He felt the small irritation of constant white light vanish. He felt so much better. But he couldn't move. He looked left and right with his eye's, trying to see his surroundings. He saw dank metal walls, some machinery and a flash of red that moved aside quickly. ├óÔé¼┼ôDon't move, don't think├óÔé¼┬Ø a voice said.
It was light, feminine and slightly familiar. ├óÔé¼┼ôListen├óÔé¼┬Ø the voice said ├óÔé¼┼ôI have pulled you out. They are trying to break you, like Oedipus. Plucking your eye's out...one...by one├óÔé¼┬Ø. Peter felt finger's slid over his cheeks. They were incredibly soft and feathery ├óÔé¼┼ôYou're face will be easy to remember├óÔé¼┬Ø The voice said ├óÔé¼┼ôWhich is good...quite good├óÔé¼┬Ø.
Peter forced his mouth open but felt a finger place itself over it. He closed it. ├óÔé¼┼ôDon't think, if you think you'll never know├óÔé¼┬Ø the voice said ├óÔé¼┼ôNow you'll be put back in. They think You're sleeping, but for the first time You're awake├óÔé¼┬Ø. Peter wondered what the hell that meant. ├óÔé¼┼ôThe woman, the striped and black one...she is really as far away as you can be, but at the same time is close...in here├óÔé¼┬Ø Peter felt a tap on his heart.
├óÔé¼┼ôThe one...in the waking dream. She must be killed├óÔé¼┬Ø the voice said ├óÔé¼┼ôExamine the little flaw's and the entire statue will collapse├óÔé¼┬Ø. Peter felt his eye's falling. ├óÔé¼┼ôYour fading fast├óÔé¼┬Ø The voice said ├óÔé¼┼ôReady to wake up again, and be dreaming├óÔé¼┬Ø. His eye's closed but he heard one last sentence trick through his mind ├óÔé¼┼ôTrust your limbs├óÔé¼┬Ø.
Peter woke up, sitting up slowly. The white light from every were beat around him. He looked at Liz, who was still asleep. Little flaws, the voice had said. He looked at Liz. She seemed real. He gently brushed her hair aside and. His hand came up blank on the DNA scan. He looked at his hand, at the limb that had never failed to verify that his body was 100% made up of his DNA. He rolled Liz over experimentally. She didn't wake up. He brushed aside any second thoughts and pulled her shirt up and revealing her chest. The tattoo was wrong. It was just a straight line. He had seen imitators do better jobs then this.
He examined her entire body, finding things that just didn't add up. The tattoo. The skin was a different shade. Her body below her thighs was white. Things that just didn't make since. Also the fact that while he removed her clothes, looked her over and examined her she hadn't waken up. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou're not real├óÔé¼┬Ø Peter said, anger building. ├óÔé¼┼ôNothing here is REAL!├óÔé¼┬Ø He shouted.
├óÔé¼┼ôOh fuck!├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWe go away for five minuets and the subject strip searches our simulacrum and finds out the errors├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôErrors?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôShe wasn't in the database. I had to be a little touch and go, so sue me├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWe are so fucked├óÔé¼┬Ø [i/]
Peter looked at Liz. Except she was not Liz. She was a fake. Just like the Marshall, who had put him here. Just like the place he was in. He placed his foot on her neck and pressed down. The back of his mind screamed at him that this was Liz. This was Liz! Her eye's snapped open as he increased the pressure. She looked at Peter imploringly. Liz! Liz! Liz!. He lessened his foot slightly.
Then he saw the tattoo. He pressed his foot down and felt a meaty crunch. He removed his foot and the simulacrum flailed slightly, making gasping breathy noises, her air pipe completely crushed. Then it died, the simulated light going out of its unreal eyes. Peter stood up slightly straighter as the corpse shimmered away, fading out of existence.
├óÔé¼┼ôI think he's found a way out...├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat do you mean by that?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôHe's found out the important thing about the I/O interface├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhich is?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôSo he can write program├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThrough sheer force of will, but he can do it├óÔé¼┬Ø
Peter got up, out of bed and realized that he was out. He had simply...thought about it and he had gotten out. He looked around. His hands were metal, and all the other limbs he had lost were metal. His left foot. A small chunk of his stomach. A metal plate in his brain. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou did it├óÔé¼┬Ø the voice said behind him ├óÔé¼┼ôYou've taken one step into the intergalactic chess board├óÔé¼┬Ø.
He turned around and saw that the voice was the woman in the red dress.
├óÔé¼┼ôAll right├óÔé¼┬Ø Marco said, looking at his dinner table. Peter sat at the far far end, roughly two chairs away from Liz and Amber. The only one close to him was a robotic servitor that slowly trundled around the table, its spindly legs finishing in wheel's. The bulbs body of the servitor had a tray of drinks that slowly rotated as the servitor made its rounds. Peter grabbed a slender cup of green liquid that had two cubes of hot ice to create a fog effect. He sipped it experimentally.
Liz sat four chairs away from Peter, and four chairs away from Amber. She would glance at Peter every once and a while, but spent most of her time blistering the paint off the wall with her glare. Amber was the least angry looking of the three. She stared fixedly at Marco and Olivia, who were standing at the head of the table, and refused to move her neck from its obviously uncomfortable position.
├óÔé¼┼ôAll right├óÔé¼┬Ø Marco said again, grasping for words. ├óÔé¼┼ôOlivia and I have conferred for quite a while and have come to the conclusion that we need to find out what the hell is going on. What is happening├óÔé¼┬Ø Marco grinned ├óÔé¼┼ôI love a mystery. I actually own the third, and most ancient, reprint of the adventures of Sherlock Holmes, and this is a delightfully little puzzle├óÔé¼┬Ø. Marco begin to pace around the table ├óÔé¼┼ôAmberly's drug's├óÔé¼┬Ø Marco said, pulling a hypo needle out of one of his deep pockets ├óÔé¼┼ôWhich don't confer to any known chemical on the market├óÔé¼┬Ø.
Amber looked at him ├óÔé¼┼ôI borrowed one from you last visit... purely scientific interest├óÔé¼┬Ø. Amber snorted ├óÔé¼┼ôAsk next time├óÔé¼┬Ø she muttered. Marco resumed his pacing ├óÔé¼┼ôThe Mr. Owens, that our good Elizabeth picked up almost as an after thought. He is the most puzzling of all├óÔé¼┬Ø. He finally reached Peter and clasped the other man's shoulder ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd now we get to you├óÔé¼┬Ø.
The Marshall's heart started to beat faster. Did Marco know? Impossible. But still. He looked at the vampire's gloved hand and gulped. ├óÔé¼┼ôNo need to look so frightened├óÔé¼┬Ø Marco whispered into his ear. ├óÔé¼┼ôPeter has, by far, had the most interesting trip├óÔé¼┬Ø. If only you knew The Marshall thought wryly. ├óÔé¼┼ôFirst you left your home, only to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Your cruise liner was destroyed, as we all know. But you have also been dogged by an...interesting individual├óÔé¼┬Ø.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat?├óÔé¼┬Ø Peter asked, looking even more frightened. Amber cracked a grin at his discomfort. ├óÔé¼┼ôMy...rather well paid informers have told me that Leviathan picked up a single one man star ship dock with a unused access port, roughly at the edge of where the wall meets the hyperdiamond├óÔé¼┬Ø. Marco resumed his walk, plucking a drink from the servitor. ├óÔé¼┼ôThis individual was tracked for five minuets before he completely and utterly vanished off of the Leviathan's security defenses├óÔé¼┬Ø.
The Marshall felt a slight panic rise in his stomach. He had to leave, before any thing unmasked him. Why he was so afraid was beyond him. He could kill them all in a few seconds if his cover was blown. ├óÔé¼┼ôBut this man, I believe, will not make his move├óÔé¼┬Ø Marco continued, taking his damn sweet time with dramatics. ├óÔé¼┼ôUntil, at least, he finds what he wants├óÔé¼┬Ø Marco finished. ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd he wants├óÔé¼┬Ø Liz asked getting a little fed up with Marco's melodrama too.
├óÔé¼┼ôOwens├óÔé¼┬Ø Peter said dully. Amber, Liz and Marco looked at him. Amber nodded slowly ├óÔé¼┼ôYou think its the Marshall?├óÔé¼┬Ø she asked. ├óÔé¼┼ôI have a feeling that it is├óÔé¼┬Ø Peter said, slowly leaning backwards into his chair, which creaked slowly in the sudden silence. ├óÔé¼┼ôGod damn├óÔé¼┬Ø Liz muttered. ├óÔé¼┼ôWould this be a problem?├óÔé¼┬Ø Marco asked ├óÔé¼┼ôI don't know anything about a...Marshall├óÔé¼┬Ø.
├óÔé¼┼ôThe Marshall├óÔé¼┬Ø The Marshall corrected him. If they could become a bit more paranoid they would trust him more. As long as he could direct there paranoia to the outside.
That was how to do it...
-
Archangel of Death
- Posts: 854
- Joined: 28 Jan 2005, 18:15
Other way round, kinda. She was part of a traning exersize in the Construct. Morpheus was walking with Neo through a crowded city street, talking about stuff, when this Lady in a Red Dress walks past. Neo gets distracted, Morpheus tells him to take another look, and allmost gets shot by a (fake) agent.
After a repeated viewing of the movie (Damn its cool) I now remember.
Its a GREEN dress.
GREEN!
Its also Snt. Patrics day! But in the year 2100 and such there is no Snt. Patrics day, as most of the worlds culture was blow to kingdom come in WWIII so only the most basic, handed down values survived. Like not eating other people and stuff like that.
But did it stop them? NO!
Its a GREEN dress.
GREEN!
Its also Snt. Patrics day! But in the year 2100 and such there is no Snt. Patrics day, as most of the worlds culture was blow to kingdom come in WWIII so only the most basic, handed down values survived. Like not eating other people and stuff like that.
But did it stop them? NO!
I would like to say that present day, when used in the story, means 2110, not 2006.
3.8x10 to the 16th power miles from earth.
Ten (Subjective) years later
Around a dim star.
Under twenty feet of ice.
Simon looked at his celling. It was gray, utilitarian and had a single ventilation fan that slowly spun, light filtering through it and periodically being covered and uncovered. Simon rolled on his side and tried to get warm. He was wearing thick clothes and had a thick blanket draped over his shoulders. But the cold managed to seep in. Fortunately he was saved from this tedium by a crackle next to his bed.
Simon rolled over, grabbing his walky talky. ├óÔé¼┼ôWho is it?├óÔé¼┬Ø he asked. ├óÔé¼┼ôIts Father Marcus├óÔé¼┬Ø the walky talky barked back, radio static obscuring the familiar voice of the priest. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat?├óÔé¼┬Ø Simon sat up in bed, switching hands so he could grab his crucifix and glasses. ├óÔé¼┼ôWe need an extra watcher. Lile is down with some frostbite├óÔé¼┬Ø Father Marcus said.
├óÔé¼┼ôI'll be right on it├óÔé¼┬Ø Simon said, pushing his glasses all the way to the base of his nose.
The snow, was as ever, deadly. Simon was decked out in cold gear, his face and glasses covered by a breather mask, with another three layers of clothes. His gloves were altered space suit glove's, tied off by strips of tanned Jumper hide. Jumpers were pretty much the only really useful thing on the planet. The scientists said that once the Second Thawing was done, then they would be living in paradise. Simon snorted. He'd believe it when he saw it. Just like the second coming.
He felt some prickle on the back of his neck, enough to make him turn around. The jumper slammed into his slightly rotated frame, sending Simon spinning. The world became a whirl of white and extream cold, Simon's face mask suddenly torn asunder by his violent landing. Two massive lacerations ran down his sternum, long and wide, but fortunately, not deep. Simon rolled onto his back, his breath crystallizing in front of his face. He'd have to get covering on his face or risk losing his good looks to frostbite.
Not that those were the greatest of his worries, as the Jumper, which had slid away from him, carried by its momentum, spun languidly around. The monster was furred, with four triple jointed legs and two slight wings that aided its flights. It had two 'Jump' legs that would spend most of there time curled up and under the stomach until it attacked. Simon felt his rifle tangled up in his vest. ├óÔé¼┼ôFuck├óÔé¼┬Ø he muttered as the jumper enjoyed its victory, flapping its wings slightly and starting its final approach.
Simon jerked the rifle out of his vest and leveled it on the Jumper's chest. The Jumper reared up, not sure what to make of this development. Simon centered his iron sites on the center of the alien's mass. He pulled both triggers and the quad barreled gun roared, the barrels jumping up as the gun disgorged its pay lode. The Jumper's spindly chest imploded, disturbingly human guts blasting onto the snow behind it. Simon lay in the snow a bit more, completely numb.
The blood flowed sluggishly from his wounds. Simon tried to get up, but he couldn't muster the energy. He could, however, thumb his walky talky without too much trouble. He pressed the button and heard the click faintly over the howl of the storm.
Father Marcus flicked the switch as the com light came on, and spoke into his mike. ├óÔé¼┼ôMarcus here├óÔé¼┬Ø He said, putting a book mark on his page. Just wind was piping through. The he heard, faintly, a voice ├óÔé¼┼ôWounded bad├óÔé¼┬Ø. Marcus's eyes darted the letters above the light, and read off the number of the walky talky. It was Simon's. Marcus, still not panicking, looked at were Simon was assigned. He then flipped the switch that spoke to every watcher on duty.
├óÔé¼┼ôAll units, proceed to sector 2, 2. Wounded man├óÔé¼┬Ø Marcus said.
Simon was fading out, the snow almost covering him. But he knew they would never find him without help. His eye's slowly looked around at the snow around him. A flash of gold caught his eye. It was his crucifix, the chain broken. It had been a present from Father Marcus. Simon thought of the priest and knew how disappointed he would be if he died without even trying to stay alive. He started to jerk his rifle up and out of the snow that covered it.
Simon pulled the triggers and the retort of the rifle cut through the wind. He faded out hearing ├óÔé¼┼ôI think I found him!├óÔé¼┬Ø.
Father Marcus looked at the city elders. All three of them, not including himself. Killigan, Reeds and Kalvin each looked at him. ├óÔé¼┼ôToday├óÔé¼┬Ø Reeds said, his voice scratchy from old age ├óÔé¼┼ôWe are going to disuse the...├óÔé¼┬Ø Reeds pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and read his notes again ├óÔé¼┼ôThe allocation of funds and resources to build defense turrets├óÔé¼┬Ø. Reeds harrumphed and looked at Kalvin, who was first to speak.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhy should we put resources into defense turrets?├óÔé¼┬Ø Kalvin asked ├óÔé¼┼ôThe jumpers are just a slight danger, claiming three lives every year, roughly├óÔé¼┬Ø. Malcolm noted he failed to mention the cripples and the frostbite. ├óÔé¼┼ôThink, we could shunt these funds to building better living quarters, or improve our mine├óÔé¼┬Ø. Kalvin, a rather meek looking individual, was also a proffered pacifist.
├óÔé¼┼ôI disagree├óÔé¼┬Ø Killigan snapped, already agitated. The burly man was older then Kalvin, and the two of them were continually at odds. ├óÔé¼┼ôWe need to put the funds into better weapons. How good could a turret be, when you can have real men and women guarding their homes!├óÔé¼┬Ø. Killigan pulled out a piece of blue paper ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd this is a blue print for my new rifle design. Not the one barrel, smaller bullets. More emphasize on accuracy, rather then brute force├óÔé¼┬Ø.
├óÔé¼┼ôTry aiming in the Storm├óÔé¼┬Ø Malcolm said. Killigan shot him a withering look then looked back at the others ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd if we can produce better bullets, we might need to make less of them├óÔé¼┬Ø. Reeds motioned for Killigan to sit down, and he did so rather slower then Reeds would have liked. ├óÔé¼┼ôFather├óÔé¼┬Ø Reeds said, gesturing to Malcolm. ├óÔé¼┼ôI am all for the turret├óÔé¼┬Ø Malcolm said ├óÔé¼┼ôtoday we almost lost a man to the jumpers. Three weeks ago we almost lost four other people, and in the weeks before that we ALMOST lost more├óÔé¼┬Ø.
Killigan looked a little uncomfortable, but Kalvin was his usual meek, unflappable self. ├óÔé¼┼ôWe can't keep treating these cripples. If we can give ourselves breathing room, then we can improve the mine, mabey build others. A single turret has been calculated to increase our defense effectiveness by...├óÔé¼┬Ø Malcolm did some figuring in his mind ├óÔé¼┼ôfifty two percent├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôThat doesn't seem to be all that much├óÔé¼┬Ø Kalvin said softly. ├óÔé¼┼ôThat fifty two percent can save us forty temporary cripples├óÔé¼┬Ø Malcolm said ├óÔé¼┼ôIf that turret was in operation we would have one less man in the doctors, and Simon would be out and about, rather then staying in a damn bed for a month!├óÔé¼┬Ø Malcolm was getting angry.
Reeds harrumphed ├óÔé¼┼ôHave all things been said?├óÔé¼┬Ø he asked. No one raised there hands. ├óÔé¼┼ôGood...now vote. Will we build the turret├óÔé¼┬Ø. Killigan kept his hand's ostentatiously down. Kalvin, however, raised his hand. Marcus raised his hand. Reeds raised his hand too, slowly. ├óÔé¼┼ôVery well├óÔé¼┬Ø Reeds said ├óÔé¼┼ôWe will begin building a defensive turret in three days├óÔé¼┬Ø.
Simon was in bed. Again. His chest hurt like hell, a constant throb of pain barraging his mind. His mother had visited him, earlier. She had said very little, but she had a hard time talking anyway. Simon didn't mind. Then Father Marcus had visited. ├óÔé¼┼ôHey Simon├óÔé¼┬Ø He said. Marcus's face was hard lined, with a slight goatee around his mouth. He was one of the few people on Darkside that didn't need glasses to see. ├óÔé¼┼ôFather├óÔé¼┬Ø Simon said softly, nodding. Father Marcus grinned ├óÔé¼┼ôNo need with the formality's├óÔé¼┬Ø. Simon relaxed slightly, not that it showed as he could barely move. ├óÔé¼┼ôThey have approved the turret├óÔé¼┬Ø. Simon wished they could have decided to building it last month.
├óÔé¼┼ôI bet your wishing they had decided to build it last month├óÔé¼┬Ø Marcus said, grinning. ├óÔé¼┼ôMindreader├óÔé¼┬Ø Simon muttered, and fell asleep.
Killigan was not exempt from his duties, despite being a town leader. So he geared up, got his rifle and started the morning patrol. The snow storm had let up, witch made his job easy. The Jumper's never came out when the storm was going, as other creatures and there prey could just see them from a distance and run. So he started his rounds, rifle at the ready. Then he heard huge boom, like an explosion. Killigan hit the deck, looking around for were the explosion had come from.
Then he saw the meteorite. It shot through the Shroud, taking some of the purple material with it as it shot through. ├óÔé¼┼ôGood god├óÔé¼┬Ø Killigan whispered. He was of the opinion that if the Shroud didn't want something coming to Darkside, then God himself wouldn't be able to come to Darkside. Killigan got slowly to his feet, waiting for the meteorite to hit the snow.
The meteorite slowed to a stop before hitting the snow, still suspended above the surface of Darkside and then started to go sideways. ├óÔé¼┼ôGood god├óÔé¼┬Ø Killigan said again. The meteorite, now that he could see it, was a shiny orb of metal, covered with lurid pink scribbles. It looked man made. The thing, once it hovered over a open snow field called the Barrens and slowly, gracefully set down, its engines blasting snow in every direction. Suddenly the ship was obscured by the kicked up snow.
Killigan got out his walky talky ├óÔé¼┼ôGET SOME MEN OUT HERE NOW!├óÔé¼┬Ø he shouted into it.
Father Marcus jerked his head back. The voice that had came out of the speaker was garbled as if whoever was screaming into it. ├óÔé¼┼ôTalk quieter!├óÔé¼┬Ø Father Marcus said quietly.
Killigan saw the sphere again, the smoke drifting away. It opened and a black speck stuck its head out of the door. ├óÔé¼┼ôGet some men out here NOW!├óÔé¼┬Ø He said somewhat quieter.
PS: 3.8x10 to the 16th power miles means, roughly, 4 light years.
Can anyone guss where darkside is?
3.8x10 to the 16th power miles from earth.
Ten (Subjective) years later
Around a dim star.
Under twenty feet of ice.
Simon looked at his celling. It was gray, utilitarian and had a single ventilation fan that slowly spun, light filtering through it and periodically being covered and uncovered. Simon rolled on his side and tried to get warm. He was wearing thick clothes and had a thick blanket draped over his shoulders. But the cold managed to seep in. Fortunately he was saved from this tedium by a crackle next to his bed.
Simon rolled over, grabbing his walky talky. ├óÔé¼┼ôWho is it?├óÔé¼┬Ø he asked. ├óÔé¼┼ôIts Father Marcus├óÔé¼┬Ø the walky talky barked back, radio static obscuring the familiar voice of the priest. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat?├óÔé¼┬Ø Simon sat up in bed, switching hands so he could grab his crucifix and glasses. ├óÔé¼┼ôWe need an extra watcher. Lile is down with some frostbite├óÔé¼┬Ø Father Marcus said.
├óÔé¼┼ôI'll be right on it├óÔé¼┬Ø Simon said, pushing his glasses all the way to the base of his nose.
The snow, was as ever, deadly. Simon was decked out in cold gear, his face and glasses covered by a breather mask, with another three layers of clothes. His gloves were altered space suit glove's, tied off by strips of tanned Jumper hide. Jumpers were pretty much the only really useful thing on the planet. The scientists said that once the Second Thawing was done, then they would be living in paradise. Simon snorted. He'd believe it when he saw it. Just like the second coming.
He felt some prickle on the back of his neck, enough to make him turn around. The jumper slammed into his slightly rotated frame, sending Simon spinning. The world became a whirl of white and extream cold, Simon's face mask suddenly torn asunder by his violent landing. Two massive lacerations ran down his sternum, long and wide, but fortunately, not deep. Simon rolled onto his back, his breath crystallizing in front of his face. He'd have to get covering on his face or risk losing his good looks to frostbite.
Not that those were the greatest of his worries, as the Jumper, which had slid away from him, carried by its momentum, spun languidly around. The monster was furred, with four triple jointed legs and two slight wings that aided its flights. It had two 'Jump' legs that would spend most of there time curled up and under the stomach until it attacked. Simon felt his rifle tangled up in his vest. ├óÔé¼┼ôFuck├óÔé¼┬Ø he muttered as the jumper enjoyed its victory, flapping its wings slightly and starting its final approach.
Simon jerked the rifle out of his vest and leveled it on the Jumper's chest. The Jumper reared up, not sure what to make of this development. Simon centered his iron sites on the center of the alien's mass. He pulled both triggers and the quad barreled gun roared, the barrels jumping up as the gun disgorged its pay lode. The Jumper's spindly chest imploded, disturbingly human guts blasting onto the snow behind it. Simon lay in the snow a bit more, completely numb.
The blood flowed sluggishly from his wounds. Simon tried to get up, but he couldn't muster the energy. He could, however, thumb his walky talky without too much trouble. He pressed the button and heard the click faintly over the howl of the storm.
Father Marcus flicked the switch as the com light came on, and spoke into his mike. ├óÔé¼┼ôMarcus here├óÔé¼┬Ø He said, putting a book mark on his page. Just wind was piping through. The he heard, faintly, a voice ├óÔé¼┼ôWounded bad├óÔé¼┬Ø. Marcus's eyes darted the letters above the light, and read off the number of the walky talky. It was Simon's. Marcus, still not panicking, looked at were Simon was assigned. He then flipped the switch that spoke to every watcher on duty.
├óÔé¼┼ôAll units, proceed to sector 2, 2. Wounded man├óÔé¼┬Ø Marcus said.
Simon was fading out, the snow almost covering him. But he knew they would never find him without help. His eye's slowly looked around at the snow around him. A flash of gold caught his eye. It was his crucifix, the chain broken. It had been a present from Father Marcus. Simon thought of the priest and knew how disappointed he would be if he died without even trying to stay alive. He started to jerk his rifle up and out of the snow that covered it.
Simon pulled the triggers and the retort of the rifle cut through the wind. He faded out hearing ├óÔé¼┼ôI think I found him!├óÔé¼┬Ø.
Father Marcus looked at the city elders. All three of them, not including himself. Killigan, Reeds and Kalvin each looked at him. ├óÔé¼┼ôToday├óÔé¼┬Ø Reeds said, his voice scratchy from old age ├óÔé¼┼ôWe are going to disuse the...├óÔé¼┬Ø Reeds pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and read his notes again ├óÔé¼┼ôThe allocation of funds and resources to build defense turrets├óÔé¼┬Ø. Reeds harrumphed and looked at Kalvin, who was first to speak.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhy should we put resources into defense turrets?├óÔé¼┬Ø Kalvin asked ├óÔé¼┼ôThe jumpers are just a slight danger, claiming three lives every year, roughly├óÔé¼┬Ø. Malcolm noted he failed to mention the cripples and the frostbite. ├óÔé¼┼ôThink, we could shunt these funds to building better living quarters, or improve our mine├óÔé¼┬Ø. Kalvin, a rather meek looking individual, was also a proffered pacifist.
├óÔé¼┼ôI disagree├óÔé¼┬Ø Killigan snapped, already agitated. The burly man was older then Kalvin, and the two of them were continually at odds. ├óÔé¼┼ôWe need to put the funds into better weapons. How good could a turret be, when you can have real men and women guarding their homes!├óÔé¼┬Ø. Killigan pulled out a piece of blue paper ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd this is a blue print for my new rifle design. Not the one barrel, smaller bullets. More emphasize on accuracy, rather then brute force├óÔé¼┬Ø.
├óÔé¼┼ôTry aiming in the Storm├óÔé¼┬Ø Malcolm said. Killigan shot him a withering look then looked back at the others ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd if we can produce better bullets, we might need to make less of them├óÔé¼┬Ø. Reeds motioned for Killigan to sit down, and he did so rather slower then Reeds would have liked. ├óÔé¼┼ôFather├óÔé¼┬Ø Reeds said, gesturing to Malcolm. ├óÔé¼┼ôI am all for the turret├óÔé¼┬Ø Malcolm said ├óÔé¼┼ôtoday we almost lost a man to the jumpers. Three weeks ago we almost lost four other people, and in the weeks before that we ALMOST lost more├óÔé¼┬Ø.
Killigan looked a little uncomfortable, but Kalvin was his usual meek, unflappable self. ├óÔé¼┼ôWe can't keep treating these cripples. If we can give ourselves breathing room, then we can improve the mine, mabey build others. A single turret has been calculated to increase our defense effectiveness by...├óÔé¼┬Ø Malcolm did some figuring in his mind ├óÔé¼┼ôfifty two percent├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôThat doesn't seem to be all that much├óÔé¼┬Ø Kalvin said softly. ├óÔé¼┼ôThat fifty two percent can save us forty temporary cripples├óÔé¼┬Ø Malcolm said ├óÔé¼┼ôIf that turret was in operation we would have one less man in the doctors, and Simon would be out and about, rather then staying in a damn bed for a month!├óÔé¼┬Ø Malcolm was getting angry.
Reeds harrumphed ├óÔé¼┼ôHave all things been said?├óÔé¼┬Ø he asked. No one raised there hands. ├óÔé¼┼ôGood...now vote. Will we build the turret├óÔé¼┬Ø. Killigan kept his hand's ostentatiously down. Kalvin, however, raised his hand. Marcus raised his hand. Reeds raised his hand too, slowly. ├óÔé¼┼ôVery well├óÔé¼┬Ø Reeds said ├óÔé¼┼ôWe will begin building a defensive turret in three days├óÔé¼┬Ø.
Simon was in bed. Again. His chest hurt like hell, a constant throb of pain barraging his mind. His mother had visited him, earlier. She had said very little, but she had a hard time talking anyway. Simon didn't mind. Then Father Marcus had visited. ├óÔé¼┼ôHey Simon├óÔé¼┬Ø He said. Marcus's face was hard lined, with a slight goatee around his mouth. He was one of the few people on Darkside that didn't need glasses to see. ├óÔé¼┼ôFather├óÔé¼┬Ø Simon said softly, nodding. Father Marcus grinned ├óÔé¼┼ôNo need with the formality's├óÔé¼┬Ø. Simon relaxed slightly, not that it showed as he could barely move. ├óÔé¼┼ôThey have approved the turret├óÔé¼┬Ø. Simon wished they could have decided to building it last month.
├óÔé¼┼ôI bet your wishing they had decided to build it last month├óÔé¼┬Ø Marcus said, grinning. ├óÔé¼┼ôMindreader├óÔé¼┬Ø Simon muttered, and fell asleep.
Killigan was not exempt from his duties, despite being a town leader. So he geared up, got his rifle and started the morning patrol. The snow storm had let up, witch made his job easy. The Jumper's never came out when the storm was going, as other creatures and there prey could just see them from a distance and run. So he started his rounds, rifle at the ready. Then he heard huge boom, like an explosion. Killigan hit the deck, looking around for were the explosion had come from.
Then he saw the meteorite. It shot through the Shroud, taking some of the purple material with it as it shot through. ├óÔé¼┼ôGood god├óÔé¼┬Ø Killigan whispered. He was of the opinion that if the Shroud didn't want something coming to Darkside, then God himself wouldn't be able to come to Darkside. Killigan got slowly to his feet, waiting for the meteorite to hit the snow.
The meteorite slowed to a stop before hitting the snow, still suspended above the surface of Darkside and then started to go sideways. ├óÔé¼┼ôGood god├óÔé¼┬Ø Killigan said again. The meteorite, now that he could see it, was a shiny orb of metal, covered with lurid pink scribbles. It looked man made. The thing, once it hovered over a open snow field called the Barrens and slowly, gracefully set down, its engines blasting snow in every direction. Suddenly the ship was obscured by the kicked up snow.
Killigan got out his walky talky ├óÔé¼┼ôGET SOME MEN OUT HERE NOW!├óÔé¼┬Ø he shouted into it.
Father Marcus jerked his head back. The voice that had came out of the speaker was garbled as if whoever was screaming into it. ├óÔé¼┼ôTalk quieter!├óÔé¼┬Ø Father Marcus said quietly.
Killigan saw the sphere again, the smoke drifting away. It opened and a black speck stuck its head out of the door. ├óÔé¼┼ôGet some men out here NOW!├óÔé¼┬Ø He said somewhat quieter.
PS: 3.8x10 to the 16th power miles means, roughly, 4 light years.
Can anyone guss where darkside is?
-
maverick256
- Posts: 115
- Joined: 21 Sep 2004, 19:41
I seem to have skipped ten years, subjective, time!
Actually, due to the laws of relativity, its only been ten or so months for our main charicters (or at least the one's that went to Darkside). So its only REALLY been ten months of change for the charicters. Ten years for SOL and Darkside.
Just to make that clear...
The woman looked around the planet. The wind whistled desolately, the ice pristine and pure. It was chilling. And very beautiful. She looked at her arms and at the thin thermo-suit she wore. It looked like a sheer wet suit. Her partner was also wearing a thermo-suit, along with a small scarf about his lower face.
Killigan was hidden. He could see and hear both of the aliens, using servaleince gear that the colony had kept rotting in weapons lockers for years. It still worked, for one thing. He looked through the binoculars, which had a directional microphone to pick up distant conversations. Killigan turned up the amplification and caught the last words of the sentence.
Their language was very very strange. It sounded similar to several different language, with some words in English and French. The woman said something to the man, looking around nervously. The man glanced left and right. Then he jerked down the scarf.
Killigan jerked away from his binoculars. The man had no face! His heart thudded in his chest as he refused to look at the two aliens. But his mic kept picking up sounds of there bizarres language.
Killigan looked around at the other troops. One of them was scratching his head. Killigan swore under his breath and tapped his walky talky one ├óÔé¼┼ôstay the fuck down!├óÔé¼┬Ø. The soldier clamped himself to the ground. Killigan decided that they had gotten enough information. These two aliens seemed to be on a spying mission. ├óÔé¼┼ôFire a warning shot over their heads, then move in├óÔé¼┬Ø Killigan said.
The woman pulled the last of the gear out of the ship when the snow next to her left foot exploded. She jerked back as the Man moved to get between her and the enemy. But the soldiers burst from the snow, guns at the ready. Soon the two of them were surrounded. Killigan advanced on the woman. She was strikingly beautiful, her face completely pitch black, but not a Negro, rather some face paint. A single lurid pink tattoo ran up from her clothes, which looked like she should be freezing, and ended on her cheek.
The man, on the other hand, was grotesque. His eye's were normal, nose normal and his ears normal. But below his nose though was absolutely nothing. No mouth, no scars no chin. Just a blank mask. But his eyes were blue, hard. They were the eye's of someone who would stop at absolutely nothing to do what he wanted.
Killigan looked at the woman again. She was standing straighter, her chin jutted out like. She was stubborn, that much was obvious too Killigan. ├óÔé¼┼ôDo you speak English?├óÔé¼┬Ø He asked. Switching to one of the other language know in the colony ├óÔé¼┼ôEspa├â┬▒ol?├óÔé¼┬Ø he tried. Still no recognition. ├óÔé¼┼ôFran├â┬ºais?├óÔé¼┬Ø Killigan tried again after some searching.
The two aliens looked at each other. After a hurried whispered conference, the man stepped forward. Killigan took a half step back. ├óÔé¼┼ôI speak Common├óÔé¼┬Ø the man said haltingly, with a bizarre accent. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou mean, French?├óÔé¼┬Ø Killigan said, even more haltingly. He knew English and Spanish better, but it was better then nothing.
├óÔé¼┼ôThing changed├óÔé¼┬Ø the Man said simply. ├óÔé¼┼ôCan she talk?├óÔé¼┬Ø Killigan asked, looking at the woman. ├óÔé¼┼ôCassez-vous├óÔé¼┬Ø she muttered. ├óÔé¼┼ôMy name Marshall├óÔé¼┬Ø The man cut in, pointing to himself. ├óÔé¼┼ôKilligan├óÔé¼┬Ø Killigan said, pointing to himself. Marshall reached out with his hand. Killigan, glad to know that that hadn't changed, took it. They shook.
├óÔé¼┼ôShe name Elizabeth├óÔé¼┬Ø Marshall pointed to the woman. The woman, who was still looking a little angry started off in a string of things that sounded French, but not quite. Odd words and weird syntaxes threw Killigan off, compounded by different pronunciations and slang. ├óÔé¼┼ôShe wondering├óÔé¼┬Ø Marshall said, pausing in the middle, ├óÔé¼┼ôWhy guns?├óÔé¼┬Ø he ended, shrugging.
├óÔé¼┼ôCause, we weren't sure if you were friendly or not├óÔé¼┬Ø Killigan said ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd we are still not sure, would you like to come with me?├óÔé¼┬Ø. Marshall looked at Liz. She said something in there not-French and Marshall looked at Killigan ├óÔé¼┼ôDo we have a choice?├óÔé¼┬Ø. Killigan decided that, despite his oddity's, he liked Marshall's sense of humor. ├óÔé¼┼ôBring out the hummer├óÔé¼┬Ø Killigan called to his men in English. They pulled out of the snow hummer, a squad quad wheeled vehicle designed for snow transport.
The hummer zipped over the dune's of snow, making a low hum as its small engine whirred at full speed. Liz and Marshall sat in the back, a gun trained on them. ├óÔé¼┼ôI told We not escape├óÔé¼┬Ø Marshall said in his broken not-French. ├óÔé¼┼ôWe don't want to take any chances├óÔé¼┬Ø Killigan said, not looking back. He heard Liz whispering to Marshall, but decided to ignore it.
Marcus looked at the two aliens. They looked human, but there suits were incredible. They had thermal wire's running through every fiber, making it feel like you were inside while outside. A face cover came in a pouch on the suits, and it looked like they could...blend into the walls. Marcus had seen a technician plaster the suit on the wall and it literally vanished as its skin changed to the color of the wall. The woman wore a close fitting vest that cut off at her belly button, then shorts that cut off in the mid point of her thigh. A single line of pink ran around her body in a whirling, almost hypnotic pattern of tattoos.
├óÔé¼┼ôI think we should get her some...less revealing clothes├óÔé¼┬Ø Reeds said, looking through the one way glass with Marcus. They both stood on the other side of the one way glass, looking in at the interrogation chambers. ├óÔé¼┼ôI agree. Ask around, be discreet├óÔé¼┬Ø Marcus said. Reeds nodded and walked out of the room. ├óÔé¼┼ôKilligan├óÔé¼┬Ø Marcus said, talking into his walky talky ├óÔé¼┼ôThink its safe for me to talk with them?├óÔé¼┬Ø.
├óÔé¼┼ôI believe so├óÔé¼┬Ø Killigan said ├óÔé¼┼ôBut...be careful with the faceless one├óÔé¼┬Ø. Father Marcus thought that was obvious, looking at the grotesque face of the man. He wondered if it was a deliberate surgical procedure of a genetic deformity. No matter, Marcus thought and got up, walked out of the room and opened the door into the interrogation room. ├óÔé¼┼ôHello, i am Father Marcus├óÔé¼┬Ø He said, smiling.
├óÔé¼┼ôFather?├óÔé¼┬Ø Liz asked, looking at him. She was getting the hang of their dialect, Killigan said, and could talk a bit faster. Marshall was talking like he had spoken the language all his life. It was, as Killigan had put it ├óÔé¼┼ôCreepy as hell├óÔé¼┬Ø. Marcus looked at Liz, wondering about the society that had raised her. How different was fifty years society? ├óÔé¼┼ôPriest├óÔé¼┬Ø Marcus said ├óÔé¼┼ôFather is the term for a priest├óÔé¼┬Ø.
Liz looked at Marshall, her eyebrows raised. He muttered something in their language. Liz looked even more confused. Marcus looked at her ├óÔé¼┼ôYou...believe, right? In anything?├óÔé¼┬Ø he asked. Liz shook her head. Marcus felt a little cold ├óÔé¼┼ôAnyone?├óÔé¼┬Ø he asked. Liz thought ├óÔé¼┼ôLittle├óÔé¼┬Ø she said ├óÔé¼┼ôLittle still do├óÔé¼┬Ø.
├óÔé¼┼ôWe are getting a little sidetracked├óÔé¼┬Ø Marshall said hurriedly ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat the discussion here is not about religion, but rather w-├óÔé¼┬Ø.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhy did you come├óÔé¼┬Ø Marcus cut in. Marshall drew his head back slightly. Marcus wondered were his voice came from, as he had no mouth. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhy did I come?├óÔé¼┬Ø Marshall mused ├óÔé¼┼ôI think...in the end I came for love├óÔé¼┬Ø. Marcus frowned slightly ├óÔé¼┼ôWhy did the both of you come?├óÔé¼┬Ø He clarified. ├óÔé¼┼ôWe came warn you├óÔé¼┬Ø Liz said, looking at Marshall with...something. ├óÔé¼┼ôWarn us? Warn us about what?├óÔé¼┬Ø Marcus asked.
├óÔé¼┼ôAbout a man├óÔé¼┬Ø Marshall said ├óÔé¼┼ôWho is a light year behind us. He is decelerating and will arrive in two years├óÔé¼┬Ø. Marcus raised his hand, cutting him off, ├óÔé¼┼ôTwo years?├óÔé¼┬Ø he asked. ├óÔé¼┼ôA month, from his point of view, but yes. In two years his ship will be in orbit around this planet├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd what will he do once he is here?├óÔé¼┬Ø Marcus asked, willing to accept that.
Marshall looked down, and an air of being uncomfortable came off him. ├óÔé¼┼ôHe will kill every last man, woman and child on this planet├óÔé¼┬Ø Marshall said ├óÔé¼┼ôThen he will dig three miles under the planets surface and find what he is looking for├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhich is?├óÔé¼┬Ø Marcus asked, not betraying any of his disbelief. ├óÔé¼┼ôWe don't know├óÔé¼┬Ø Marshall said.
├óÔé¼┼ôDo you believe them?├óÔé¼┬Ø Kalvin asked. They all stood in the security center, looking in the small detention cell's camera. The security camera panned slowly left and right, but Marshall and Liz were both standing so they were always in view. ├óÔé¼┼ôYes├óÔé¼┬Ø Marcus said ├óÔé¼┼ôWhy would they lie, after coming...4 light years to get here?├óÔé¼┬Ø.
Kalvin reached for an answer, then closed his mouth. Liz and Marshall were talking in there language, and Marcus turned up the volume. They both struggled to follow their dialect of French.
├óÔé¼┼ôAt least we are alone now├óÔé¼┬Ø Liz said, grinning. ├óÔé¼┼ôCamera├óÔé¼┬Ø Marshall said, pointing at it with his chin. ├óÔé¼┼ôI don't care├óÔé¼┬Ø Liz said using her hand to push Marshall's face into hers. She kissed his blank not mouth, her eye's close. The four city elders mouths hung open. ├óÔé¼┼ôShe...loves...him?├óÔé¼┬Ø Kalvin asked slowly. The two lovers kept kissing. ├óÔé¼┼ôShut it off├óÔé¼┬Ø Marcus said. Killigan flipped a switch and the camera switched off.
├óÔé¼┼ôI believe them├óÔé¼┬Ø Marcus said ├óÔé¼┼ôThey aren't faking...i can tell├óÔé¼┬Ø. Killigan slowly nodded ├óÔé¼┼ôI think so too...now what do we do about it?├óÔé¼┬Ø.
Liz noticed, out of the corner of her eye, that the red light showing the camera was operational flicked off. ├óÔé¼┼ôI really do wish you had gotten a different face├óÔé¼┬Ø she murmured. Same old argument. ├óÔé¼┼ôThis one just seems right├óÔé¼┬Ø The Marshall said. A small cot jutted half way of of the wall, and with a jerk the Marshall pulled it all the way out. He lay down on it and Liz straddled his hips. ├óÔé¼┼ôIts been a long road├óÔé¼┬Ø he said softly.
Actually, due to the laws of relativity, its only been ten or so months for our main charicters (or at least the one's that went to Darkside). So its only REALLY been ten months of change for the charicters. Ten years for SOL and Darkside.
Just to make that clear...
The woman looked around the planet. The wind whistled desolately, the ice pristine and pure. It was chilling. And very beautiful. She looked at her arms and at the thin thermo-suit she wore. It looked like a sheer wet suit. Her partner was also wearing a thermo-suit, along with a small scarf about his lower face.
Killigan was hidden. He could see and hear both of the aliens, using servaleince gear that the colony had kept rotting in weapons lockers for years. It still worked, for one thing. He looked through the binoculars, which had a directional microphone to pick up distant conversations. Killigan turned up the amplification and caught the last words of the sentence.
Their language was very very strange. It sounded similar to several different language, with some words in English and French. The woman said something to the man, looking around nervously. The man glanced left and right. Then he jerked down the scarf.
Killigan jerked away from his binoculars. The man had no face! His heart thudded in his chest as he refused to look at the two aliens. But his mic kept picking up sounds of there bizarres language.
Killigan looked around at the other troops. One of them was scratching his head. Killigan swore under his breath and tapped his walky talky one ├óÔé¼┼ôstay the fuck down!├óÔé¼┬Ø. The soldier clamped himself to the ground. Killigan decided that they had gotten enough information. These two aliens seemed to be on a spying mission. ├óÔé¼┼ôFire a warning shot over their heads, then move in├óÔé¼┬Ø Killigan said.
The woman pulled the last of the gear out of the ship when the snow next to her left foot exploded. She jerked back as the Man moved to get between her and the enemy. But the soldiers burst from the snow, guns at the ready. Soon the two of them were surrounded. Killigan advanced on the woman. She was strikingly beautiful, her face completely pitch black, but not a Negro, rather some face paint. A single lurid pink tattoo ran up from her clothes, which looked like she should be freezing, and ended on her cheek.
The man, on the other hand, was grotesque. His eye's were normal, nose normal and his ears normal. But below his nose though was absolutely nothing. No mouth, no scars no chin. Just a blank mask. But his eyes were blue, hard. They were the eye's of someone who would stop at absolutely nothing to do what he wanted.
Killigan looked at the woman again. She was standing straighter, her chin jutted out like. She was stubborn, that much was obvious too Killigan. ├óÔé¼┼ôDo you speak English?├óÔé¼┬Ø He asked. Switching to one of the other language know in the colony ├óÔé¼┼ôEspa├â┬▒ol?├óÔé¼┬Ø he tried. Still no recognition. ├óÔé¼┼ôFran├â┬ºais?├óÔé¼┬Ø Killigan tried again after some searching.
The two aliens looked at each other. After a hurried whispered conference, the man stepped forward. Killigan took a half step back. ├óÔé¼┼ôI speak Common├óÔé¼┬Ø the man said haltingly, with a bizarre accent. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou mean, French?├óÔé¼┬Ø Killigan said, even more haltingly. He knew English and Spanish better, but it was better then nothing.
├óÔé¼┼ôThing changed├óÔé¼┬Ø the Man said simply. ├óÔé¼┼ôCan she talk?├óÔé¼┬Ø Killigan asked, looking at the woman. ├óÔé¼┼ôCassez-vous├óÔé¼┬Ø she muttered. ├óÔé¼┼ôMy name Marshall├óÔé¼┬Ø The man cut in, pointing to himself. ├óÔé¼┼ôKilligan├óÔé¼┬Ø Killigan said, pointing to himself. Marshall reached out with his hand. Killigan, glad to know that that hadn't changed, took it. They shook.
├óÔé¼┼ôShe name Elizabeth├óÔé¼┬Ø Marshall pointed to the woman. The woman, who was still looking a little angry started off in a string of things that sounded French, but not quite. Odd words and weird syntaxes threw Killigan off, compounded by different pronunciations and slang. ├óÔé¼┼ôShe wondering├óÔé¼┬Ø Marshall said, pausing in the middle, ├óÔé¼┼ôWhy guns?├óÔé¼┬Ø he ended, shrugging.
├óÔé¼┼ôCause, we weren't sure if you were friendly or not├óÔé¼┬Ø Killigan said ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd we are still not sure, would you like to come with me?├óÔé¼┬Ø. Marshall looked at Liz. She said something in there not-French and Marshall looked at Killigan ├óÔé¼┼ôDo we have a choice?├óÔé¼┬Ø. Killigan decided that, despite his oddity's, he liked Marshall's sense of humor. ├óÔé¼┼ôBring out the hummer├óÔé¼┬Ø Killigan called to his men in English. They pulled out of the snow hummer, a squad quad wheeled vehicle designed for snow transport.
The hummer zipped over the dune's of snow, making a low hum as its small engine whirred at full speed. Liz and Marshall sat in the back, a gun trained on them. ├óÔé¼┼ôI told We not escape├óÔé¼┬Ø Marshall said in his broken not-French. ├óÔé¼┼ôWe don't want to take any chances├óÔé¼┬Ø Killigan said, not looking back. He heard Liz whispering to Marshall, but decided to ignore it.
Marcus looked at the two aliens. They looked human, but there suits were incredible. They had thermal wire's running through every fiber, making it feel like you were inside while outside. A face cover came in a pouch on the suits, and it looked like they could...blend into the walls. Marcus had seen a technician plaster the suit on the wall and it literally vanished as its skin changed to the color of the wall. The woman wore a close fitting vest that cut off at her belly button, then shorts that cut off in the mid point of her thigh. A single line of pink ran around her body in a whirling, almost hypnotic pattern of tattoos.
├óÔé¼┼ôI think we should get her some...less revealing clothes├óÔé¼┬Ø Reeds said, looking through the one way glass with Marcus. They both stood on the other side of the one way glass, looking in at the interrogation chambers. ├óÔé¼┼ôI agree. Ask around, be discreet├óÔé¼┬Ø Marcus said. Reeds nodded and walked out of the room. ├óÔé¼┼ôKilligan├óÔé¼┬Ø Marcus said, talking into his walky talky ├óÔé¼┼ôThink its safe for me to talk with them?├óÔé¼┬Ø.
├óÔé¼┼ôI believe so├óÔé¼┬Ø Killigan said ├óÔé¼┼ôBut...be careful with the faceless one├óÔé¼┬Ø. Father Marcus thought that was obvious, looking at the grotesque face of the man. He wondered if it was a deliberate surgical procedure of a genetic deformity. No matter, Marcus thought and got up, walked out of the room and opened the door into the interrogation room. ├óÔé¼┼ôHello, i am Father Marcus├óÔé¼┬Ø He said, smiling.
├óÔé¼┼ôFather?├óÔé¼┬Ø Liz asked, looking at him. She was getting the hang of their dialect, Killigan said, and could talk a bit faster. Marshall was talking like he had spoken the language all his life. It was, as Killigan had put it ├óÔé¼┼ôCreepy as hell├óÔé¼┬Ø. Marcus looked at Liz, wondering about the society that had raised her. How different was fifty years society? ├óÔé¼┼ôPriest├óÔé¼┬Ø Marcus said ├óÔé¼┼ôFather is the term for a priest├óÔé¼┬Ø.
Liz looked at Marshall, her eyebrows raised. He muttered something in their language. Liz looked even more confused. Marcus looked at her ├óÔé¼┼ôYou...believe, right? In anything?├óÔé¼┬Ø he asked. Liz shook her head. Marcus felt a little cold ├óÔé¼┼ôAnyone?├óÔé¼┬Ø he asked. Liz thought ├óÔé¼┼ôLittle├óÔé¼┬Ø she said ├óÔé¼┼ôLittle still do├óÔé¼┬Ø.
├óÔé¼┼ôWe are getting a little sidetracked├óÔé¼┬Ø Marshall said hurriedly ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat the discussion here is not about religion, but rather w-├óÔé¼┬Ø.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhy did you come├óÔé¼┬Ø Marcus cut in. Marshall drew his head back slightly. Marcus wondered were his voice came from, as he had no mouth. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhy did I come?├óÔé¼┬Ø Marshall mused ├óÔé¼┼ôI think...in the end I came for love├óÔé¼┬Ø. Marcus frowned slightly ├óÔé¼┼ôWhy did the both of you come?├óÔé¼┬Ø He clarified. ├óÔé¼┼ôWe came warn you├óÔé¼┬Ø Liz said, looking at Marshall with...something. ├óÔé¼┼ôWarn us? Warn us about what?├óÔé¼┬Ø Marcus asked.
├óÔé¼┼ôAbout a man├óÔé¼┬Ø Marshall said ├óÔé¼┼ôWho is a light year behind us. He is decelerating and will arrive in two years├óÔé¼┬Ø. Marcus raised his hand, cutting him off, ├óÔé¼┼ôTwo years?├óÔé¼┬Ø he asked. ├óÔé¼┼ôA month, from his point of view, but yes. In two years his ship will be in orbit around this planet├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd what will he do once he is here?├óÔé¼┬Ø Marcus asked, willing to accept that.
Marshall looked down, and an air of being uncomfortable came off him. ├óÔé¼┼ôHe will kill every last man, woman and child on this planet├óÔé¼┬Ø Marshall said ├óÔé¼┼ôThen he will dig three miles under the planets surface and find what he is looking for├óÔé¼┬Ø. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhich is?├óÔé¼┬Ø Marcus asked, not betraying any of his disbelief. ├óÔé¼┼ôWe don't know├óÔé¼┬Ø Marshall said.
├óÔé¼┼ôDo you believe them?├óÔé¼┬Ø Kalvin asked. They all stood in the security center, looking in the small detention cell's camera. The security camera panned slowly left and right, but Marshall and Liz were both standing so they were always in view. ├óÔé¼┼ôYes├óÔé¼┬Ø Marcus said ├óÔé¼┼ôWhy would they lie, after coming...4 light years to get here?├óÔé¼┬Ø.
Kalvin reached for an answer, then closed his mouth. Liz and Marshall were talking in there language, and Marcus turned up the volume. They both struggled to follow their dialect of French.
├óÔé¼┼ôAt least we are alone now├óÔé¼┬Ø Liz said, grinning. ├óÔé¼┼ôCamera├óÔé¼┬Ø Marshall said, pointing at it with his chin. ├óÔé¼┼ôI don't care├óÔé¼┬Ø Liz said using her hand to push Marshall's face into hers. She kissed his blank not mouth, her eye's close. The four city elders mouths hung open. ├óÔé¼┼ôShe...loves...him?├óÔé¼┬Ø Kalvin asked slowly. The two lovers kept kissing. ├óÔé¼┼ôShut it off├óÔé¼┬Ø Marcus said. Killigan flipped a switch and the camera switched off.
├óÔé¼┼ôI believe them├óÔé¼┬Ø Marcus said ├óÔé¼┼ôThey aren't faking...i can tell├óÔé¼┬Ø. Killigan slowly nodded ├óÔé¼┼ôI think so too...now what do we do about it?├óÔé¼┬Ø.
Liz noticed, out of the corner of her eye, that the red light showing the camera was operational flicked off. ├óÔé¼┼ôI really do wish you had gotten a different face├óÔé¼┬Ø she murmured. Same old argument. ├óÔé¼┼ôThis one just seems right├óÔé¼┬Ø The Marshall said. A small cot jutted half way of of the wall, and with a jerk the Marshall pulled it all the way out. He lay down on it and Liz straddled his hips. ├óÔé¼┼ôIts been a long road├óÔé¼┬Ø he said softly.