The third punch knocked the heavy metal door off its hinges. After the clanging, silence. Some oddly coloured vapours drifted from the dimly lit room. Strange smelling too but since the Upgrade toxins didn't seem to affect her anymore.
She was here to try and understand how and why the Upgrade had happened. She was here to try and learn what was happening to Max, if he was having another breakdown or if everyone else was or both.
A man named Marshal had texted her this location. She thought she recognized the name but couldn't be sure. Couldn't be sure if her memories of being a secret operative throughout history were real or just TV shows she had watched once. Had she always been like this or was this something Max had done to her?
Stepping into the chamber.
Six suspension-tanks. Not unlike the ones she and Max had climbed out of in the Atlantis base one of the first times they had met. I think I was blonde then. She couldn't make out the figures floating inside them but each one had a digital screen.
Riveta - Status Unknown
Stone - Version Indigo
Scorpio - Version Elephant Tiger
Mayganne - Version Sting Ray
Donnelly - Signal Lost
Susanna - Signal Corrupted
That made her feel sad. She had vague, dream-like memories of a woman with that name who took care of her at a time she was lost and alone and hurting.
Beyond the tanks and the clusters of wires and tubing that fed into them were four doors. Each had a label.
PROJECT ELLIPSES
PROJECT HORIZON
PROJECT BEAST
SUBJECT A-443-C
Maggie suddenly felt afraid.
Showing posts with label scorpio. Show all posts
Showing posts with label scorpio. Show all posts
20151224
20140315
Frank's Folly
Frank stepped out of the cab, paid the driver, and then walked towards the main door. He made a slight detour as he saw the coffee wagon open for business. He could use a drink; he wasn't normally a coffee consumer, he preferred the tingling sensation that tea offered. But today, for some strange reason, he craved coffee.
He ordered a coffee with a cream and one sugar and paid the buck fifty. He glanced at his watch and noticed he was still 15 minutes ahead of schedule and he grabbed the morning paper as well. He had a little time to kill. He walked into the lobby of the building, passed the security desk, flashing his ID badge at the two guards on duty.
Grady and Bill-Lee. He chuckled each time he saw Bill-Lee's name tag. He figured his folks must have been rednecks to give him such a stupid name to begin with. He pressed the up key at the elevators and waited for the doors to eventually open.
"Hey Frank," Scorpio said as he rushed to the elevator. "Today is the big day, eh?"
"Yes," Frank simply stated.
"Anything big going on then?" Scorpio inquired. "After all, it's you last day here."
"Nothing really," Frank yawned. "Just want to put in my time for the day like usual."
The elevator ride up to the floor was awkwardly silent since Scorpio didn't have anything else to say. To Frank the music that filtered through the elevator sounded like a New Order song done to muzak. He was trying to figure out which song it was.
It seemed like forever and a day when they arrived at their floor. The doors opened to a group of people yelling "SURPRISE!" The gang at the office had thrown together a little celebration to mark his last day at the office.
Frank had grown bored after data-crunching; he had thought that life would be a little more exciting than sitting at a computer terminal for 25+ years. It paid well, but it offered nothing stimulating...
He ordered a coffee with a cream and one sugar and paid the buck fifty. He glanced at his watch and noticed he was still 15 minutes ahead of schedule and he grabbed the morning paper as well. He had a little time to kill. He walked into the lobby of the building, passed the security desk, flashing his ID badge at the two guards on duty.
Grady and Bill-Lee. He chuckled each time he saw Bill-Lee's name tag. He figured his folks must have been rednecks to give him such a stupid name to begin with. He pressed the up key at the elevators and waited for the doors to eventually open.
"Hey Frank," Scorpio said as he rushed to the elevator. "Today is the big day, eh?"
"Yes," Frank simply stated.
"Anything big going on then?" Scorpio inquired. "After all, it's you last day here."
"Nothing really," Frank yawned. "Just want to put in my time for the day like usual."
The elevator ride up to the floor was awkwardly silent since Scorpio didn't have anything else to say. To Frank the music that filtered through the elevator sounded like a New Order song done to muzak. He was trying to figure out which song it was.
It seemed like forever and a day when they arrived at their floor. The doors opened to a group of people yelling "SURPRISE!" The gang at the office had thrown together a little celebration to mark his last day at the office.
Frank had grown bored after data-crunching; he had thought that life would be a little more exciting than sitting at a computer terminal for 25+ years. It paid well, but it offered nothing stimulating...
20140305
Channel Plex: Tapestries
Sandrine Riveta: "It was just... It was a really special
time. We would do a show every second Saturday, and we'd pick the
setting and characters for the next show while we were striking the
latest one. So we were just constantly in this creative fugue, each show
like the cresting of a wave, then building momentum to the next. For
the two weeks between the shows we would work out our characters, their
histories, the performance of them. Then they'd all meet on stage on the
night of the show. So it was improv but with some design to it. Not so
much a goal, but a pathway, maybe?"
Josiah Stone: "We'd use this one idea that Max got from a comic he loved, 'The Invisibles'. Each one of the five characters would be sortof informed or built around one of the elements. And their role in the play would represent that. Nothing obviously symbolic, but a way to control the interplay a bit when we were on stage..."
Milton Reddings: "To me it felt like we were involved in this weird ongoing Live Action Roleplaying game."
Sandrine Riveta: "But the best was the show. Spending the afternoon setting up the basement of the church, the table for ticket sales, putting on a pot of coffee. Running through the lighting cues. Stretching."
Josiah Stone: "Then we'd head backstage and wait for the sound of the people starting to arrive. The murmur, the scraping of chairs..."
Sandrine Riveta: "I love that sound."
Josiah Stone: "We'd use this one idea that Max got from a comic he loved, 'The Invisibles'. Each one of the five characters would be sortof informed or built around one of the elements. And their role in the play would represent that. Nothing obviously symbolic, but a way to control the interplay a bit when we were on stage..."
Milton Reddings: "To me it felt like we were involved in this weird ongoing Live Action Roleplaying game."
Sandrine Riveta: "But the best was the show. Spending the afternoon setting up the basement of the church, the table for ticket sales, putting on a pot of coffee. Running through the lighting cues. Stretching."
Josiah Stone: "Then we'd head backstage and wait for the sound of the people starting to arrive. The murmur, the scraping of chairs..."
Sandrine Riveta: "I love that sound."
20140121
A Word From Our Sponsor
It's a trap.
Simon looked around. The voice in his head went off, sounding like a freight train. He had a sense of vertigo, a strange feeling of deja vu. His vision was askew.
"They're moving," Donnelly said. "I think they are onto us."
"Element of surprise is over," Scorpio said.
Don't do it.
Simon's head was on fire, like a phosphorus flare burning white. Like the sound of dice rolling across the table, echoing in his mind.
Scorpio brought out his gun and stood at the door to the adjoining car.
Make a saving roll.
Simon looked around. The voice in his head went off, sounding like a freight train. He had a sense of vertigo, a strange feeling of deja vu. His vision was askew.
"They're moving," Donnelly said. "I think they are onto us."
"Element of surprise is over," Scorpio said.
Don't do it.
Simon's head was on fire, like a phosphorus flare burning white. Like the sound of dice rolling across the table, echoing in his mind.
Scorpio brought out his gun and stood at the door to the adjoining car.
Make a saving roll.
Underground Dramatis Personae
STONE - detective turned conspiracy theorist
RIVETA - detective turned metaphysical investigator
DONNELLY - ex-principal or maybe a priest
SCORPIO - geek turned double-agent
SIMON - mystery man
AKIMOTO - temporally-displaced norse samurai
TATTERDEMALION - strange girl from another planet
AQUA - teenage tiger-fist
FRANK - reformed LEGACY hitman
GONER - ex-mercenary
ANGST - cheerleader avec uzis
20140120
Open File
The clatter of the tracks suddenly got louder as the car entered a tunnel. Riveta grabbed a railing and stood up.
"Where's Mayganne?" she asked, her voice panicked.
Stone glanced around, blinking. "Ok... calm down..." he said softly, maybe to his former-partner, maybe to himself.
Riveta had the truth of it, though: Mayganne wasn't with them. Scorpio's cell-phone was ringing.
Donnelly turned to them, looking disoriented. "There's some people... in the next car... strange..."
Riveta turned, checking for her pistol under her jacket, relieved at the feel of the steel. Looked past the Father, through the window in the door at the end of the car.
A girl in a tattered sweater talking to a huge man, his blond hair tied in a top-knot. A cheerleader and another teenage girl in a cowboy hat. Two other men.
Simon put a hand out to steady Riveta. "It's okay," he said. He looked exhausted. "We'll be okay."
Scorpio snapped his cell-phone shut, ending his quick call with Greg Logollos. From LEGACY.
"That was the Professor," Scorpio said. "We're supposed to kill the people in the next car."
"Where's Mayganne?" she asked, her voice panicked.
Stone glanced around, blinking. "Ok... calm down..." he said softly, maybe to his former-partner, maybe to himself.
Riveta had the truth of it, though: Mayganne wasn't with them. Scorpio's cell-phone was ringing.
Donnelly turned to them, looking disoriented. "There's some people... in the next car... strange..."
Riveta turned, checking for her pistol under her jacket, relieved at the feel of the steel. Looked past the Father, through the window in the door at the end of the car.
A girl in a tattered sweater talking to a huge man, his blond hair tied in a top-knot. A cheerleader and another teenage girl in a cowboy hat. Two other men.
Simon put a hand out to steady Riveta. "It's okay," he said. He looked exhausted. "We'll be okay."
Scorpio snapped his cell-phone shut, ending his quick call with Greg Logollos. From LEGACY.
"That was the Professor," Scorpio said. "We're supposed to kill the people in the next car."
20140102
To Be Continued
The
Professor addressed the latest team. The newest Dragons. It wasn't
the first time the roster had been replaced, or recombined. He
had worked with so many of them throughout the strange non-years of
the Metaplex, the liquid time of plureality. All of the lost and the
found, the warriors, the outcasts, knights and assassins, witches and
spies. The different teams gathered and sent on their missions, and
always The Professor there to guide them, to never really be a part
of them. Except the times that he had been, or the times he was never
there at all - though most of those he couldn't remember...
Dexter, Wraith, Darius, Callan. Frank, Goner, Angst, Suki, Aqua. Akimoto, Tatterdemallion. Cromwell, Bern, Caden. Siltailus, Falador, Rickson, Cloak, Nurendemyr. The Kat, Misfit, Silver. Odin, Merlin, Kele-De. Mick. Marshal, Michelle, Nick and Jonas. Nick, Pat and Charlotte. Soma and Heresy. All the Travelers, the Blueberry Hill Gang, the Shelter Team. Bishop, Twofeathers, Trump. Pretty George. Maggie Magenta.
And now, Stone and Riveta, Donnelly and Mayganne, Scorpio. He had explained to them as much as he could, what he was allowed to, what he was able to. And what the plan was. Desperate and uncertain, but the only way the Professor could think to turn this situation around. It wasn't safe to contact Simon Light in any local versions - the Professor had had to quarantine him. But maybe if they went far enough around... Find him, some version of him, somewhere else...
There was no telling if any of them would make it, or who they would be. If they would remember or understand anything. If they would find him and reach him. If that would be enough of a convergence to change things. If this would save things or end them.
The Professor had briefed them. He had taught them all the mantras and visualizations that he knew for transferals. Had exposed them to specifically modulated energy fields. Had read them modernist poetry, shown them certain movies. Tried anything he could think of to help them.
And now he was going to send them into another world and hope that they would somehow return...
Dexter, Wraith, Darius, Callan. Frank, Goner, Angst, Suki, Aqua. Akimoto, Tatterdemallion. Cromwell, Bern, Caden. Siltailus, Falador, Rickson, Cloak, Nurendemyr. The Kat, Misfit, Silver. Odin, Merlin, Kele-De. Mick. Marshal, Michelle, Nick and Jonas. Nick, Pat and Charlotte. Soma and Heresy. All the Travelers, the Blueberry Hill Gang, the Shelter Team. Bishop, Twofeathers, Trump. Pretty George. Maggie Magenta.
And now, Stone and Riveta, Donnelly and Mayganne, Scorpio. He had explained to them as much as he could, what he was allowed to, what he was able to. And what the plan was. Desperate and uncertain, but the only way the Professor could think to turn this situation around. It wasn't safe to contact Simon Light in any local versions - the Professor had had to quarantine him. But maybe if they went far enough around... Find him, some version of him, somewhere else...
There was no telling if any of them would make it, or who they would be. If they would remember or understand anything. If they would find him and reach him. If that would be enough of a convergence to change things. If this would save things or end them.
The Professor had briefed them. He had taught them all the mantras and visualizations that he knew for transferals. Had exposed them to specifically modulated energy fields. Had read them modernist poetry, shown them certain movies. Tried anything he could think of to help them.
And now he was going to send them into another world and hope that they would somehow return...
20131231
23rd Century Party People
Today's
meeting was in a conference room in a downtown hotel. The Professor
had a laptop set-up at the head of the table. Beside it there was
another one of his strange devices - wires and winking lights and
whirring parts. No one had asked the rumpled old man what these
objects were for; there had been too many bizarre answers to other
simple questions already.
"Why isn't Susannah here?" Donnelly asked.
"It turns out that she's not a part of this. Not exactly." Things had continued to cohere, to synchronize, since everyone had been gathered. Or reunited. Some memories had become clear, while others were still cloudy, and others still pitch black. At each meeting the Professor had new files that he had compiled from whatever mysterious sources he had. A picture had started to emerge, but it was one of wavering lines and shifting colours and impossible angles, like a Cubist painting.
"Where is she then?" Riveta asked.
"I don't have the ability to remove her from this thread; it's not part of what I do. But I have made arrangements for her to be kept safe."
Scorpio studied the newest folder intently. LEGACY was mentioned a few more times in some documents, but there was still no record of him being in contact with Greg Logollos. Each night Scorpio thought about trying to contact Greg. He hadn't yet.
Stone resisted the urge to question the Professor, to ask what guarantees he could provide that Susannah was safe. He knew that there were none. From all the sci-fi technology, mutant attack dogs, and psychedelic metaphyiscs it was obvious to Stone that there weren't any certainties anymore. His training as a detective told him to keep asking, to keep digging, keep trying to solve the mystery of it all. His training as a soldier told him to keep quiet and follow orders.
Riveta seemed to be dealing with it all fairly well. Maybe because she had been in contact with the Professor the longest. It was almost as if she had somehow learned something from undergoing all this weirdness. Stone was so glad to have her back. He knew that they could get through anything together.
"So what's next then?" Mayganne asked.
Donnelly looked at the teenager he knew from his school. She had always been a quiet girl, shy, a little gloomy. Now she came to the meetings smiling and eager. School had never seemed a good fit for Mayganne, but this - whatever it was - had opened something up inside her. Donnelly knew that he still had to have a stern talk with her about breaking into that bank, but for now he was using her enthusiasm as a way to stay grounded amidst the chaos. He had wondered a lot lately about starting to pray again...
"Well," the Professor said, tapping some keys on the laptop and glancing at the device. "What's next is that we're going to try and change the world. Or one of them anyway."
"Why isn't Susannah here?" Donnelly asked.
"It turns out that she's not a part of this. Not exactly." Things had continued to cohere, to synchronize, since everyone had been gathered. Or reunited. Some memories had become clear, while others were still cloudy, and others still pitch black. At each meeting the Professor had new files that he had compiled from whatever mysterious sources he had. A picture had started to emerge, but it was one of wavering lines and shifting colours and impossible angles, like a Cubist painting.
"Where is she then?" Riveta asked.
"I don't have the ability to remove her from this thread; it's not part of what I do. But I have made arrangements for her to be kept safe."
Scorpio studied the newest folder intently. LEGACY was mentioned a few more times in some documents, but there was still no record of him being in contact with Greg Logollos. Each night Scorpio thought about trying to contact Greg. He hadn't yet.
Stone resisted the urge to question the Professor, to ask what guarantees he could provide that Susannah was safe. He knew that there were none. From all the sci-fi technology, mutant attack dogs, and psychedelic metaphyiscs it was obvious to Stone that there weren't any certainties anymore. His training as a detective told him to keep asking, to keep digging, keep trying to solve the mystery of it all. His training as a soldier told him to keep quiet and follow orders.
Riveta seemed to be dealing with it all fairly well. Maybe because she had been in contact with the Professor the longest. It was almost as if she had somehow learned something from undergoing all this weirdness. Stone was so glad to have her back. He knew that they could get through anything together.
"So what's next then?" Mayganne asked.
Donnelly looked at the teenager he knew from his school. She had always been a quiet girl, shy, a little gloomy. Now she came to the meetings smiling and eager. School had never seemed a good fit for Mayganne, but this - whatever it was - had opened something up inside her. Donnelly knew that he still had to have a stern talk with her about breaking into that bank, but for now he was using her enthusiasm as a way to stay grounded amidst the chaos. He had wondered a lot lately about starting to pray again...
"Well," the Professor said, tapping some keys on the laptop and glancing at the device. "What's next is that we're going to try and change the world. Or one of them anyway."
20131229
Same Time Same Page
The
Professor circled the table, handing out the file folders.
"Hopefully some of the materials in these will start to generate trans-version connections," he said. "And you will all start to remember what happened."
Riveta began scanning the contents of her folder right away. Police reports from some recent investigations she didn't remember undertaking. Photos of a diner that looked familiar. A picture of a man who she didn't recognize, but who had the saddest looking eyes she had ever seen.
Stone sat beside her; he hadn't been more than a few feet from her since the night on the street, when he had found her again. When the impossible had started to happen. Except the impossible had started to happen some time ago, he was realizing now, as memories of certain crime scenes started to return.
"Who is this man?" Donnelly asked. He held up his own copy of the photo Riveta was looking at.
Mayganne studied her copy. "He looks familiar, sorta..."
The Professor had taken a seat at the head of the table. "His name is Simon Light. He is very important. Hopefully, you will be meeting him - again - very soon."
Scorpio tried to keep his breathing steady, trying one of the meditation techniques he was slowly starting to remember. Among the copies of police reports and photographs inside his folder, there were memos and press releases from the LEGACY Corporation. Many were signed by Greg Logollos. He glanced at the Professor... Did he know that Greg had been in contact with Scorpio? Recently? Or did they know each other already from before? It made Scorpio feel nervous, trapped. He wasn't sure who or what to trust.
Susanna stopped at a picture of an older woman holding a young girl on her lap. The older woman was holding a tattered pom-pom. The little girl was smiling.
The Professor spoke up. "Shortly I will be asking each of you to begin making notes on what the files mean to you, what you recognize, how they make you feel. My own picture of what happened is far from complete."
Stone looked at Riveta and smiled. He didn't care how weird all this was. She was alive.
"What we need to focus on right away," the Professor continued, "is the very grave threat facing each of you, and some other people who you may or may not know. Indeed, the very Metaplex itself is in danger."
"The meta-huh?" Mayganne asked.
"A threat from what?" Donnelly cut in.
The Professor adjusted his glasses.
"A man named Morganfokker."
"Hopefully some of the materials in these will start to generate trans-version connections," he said. "And you will all start to remember what happened."
Riveta began scanning the contents of her folder right away. Police reports from some recent investigations she didn't remember undertaking. Photos of a diner that looked familiar. A picture of a man who she didn't recognize, but who had the saddest looking eyes she had ever seen.
Stone sat beside her; he hadn't been more than a few feet from her since the night on the street, when he had found her again. When the impossible had started to happen. Except the impossible had started to happen some time ago, he was realizing now, as memories of certain crime scenes started to return.
"Who is this man?" Donnelly asked. He held up his own copy of the photo Riveta was looking at.
Mayganne studied her copy. "He looks familiar, sorta..."
The Professor had taken a seat at the head of the table. "His name is Simon Light. He is very important. Hopefully, you will be meeting him - again - very soon."
Scorpio tried to keep his breathing steady, trying one of the meditation techniques he was slowly starting to remember. Among the copies of police reports and photographs inside his folder, there were memos and press releases from the LEGACY Corporation. Many were signed by Greg Logollos. He glanced at the Professor... Did he know that Greg had been in contact with Scorpio? Recently? Or did they know each other already from before? It made Scorpio feel nervous, trapped. He wasn't sure who or what to trust.
Susanna stopped at a picture of an older woman holding a young girl on her lap. The older woman was holding a tattered pom-pom. The little girl was smiling.
The Professor spoke up. "Shortly I will be asking each of you to begin making notes on what the files mean to you, what you recognize, how they make you feel. My own picture of what happened is far from complete."
Stone looked at Riveta and smiled. He didn't care how weird all this was. She was alive.
"What we need to focus on right away," the Professor continued, "is the very grave threat facing each of you, and some other people who you may or may not know. Indeed, the very Metaplex itself is in danger."
"The meta-huh?" Mayganne asked.
"A threat from what?" Donnelly cut in.
The Professor adjusted his glasses.
"A man named Morganfokker."
20131228
The Great Convergence
Milton
stood in the line outside the theatre. He didn't usually go to see
plays, but after his meeting with Greg today he felt that things were
changing in his life. That he was going to get a chance to become the
man he always wanted to be. And he had always imagined himself
reading literature and seeing plays. So he had a plastic bag from
Good
Tomes with
copies of Shakespeare and Faulkner inside, and he was waiting to buy
his ticket to a local company's production of an original work called
Constellations.
It seemed fitting somehow. Scorpio was becoming real.
Across the street Susanna checked her watch again. Riveta scanned the traffic walking and driving past.
"He was always really prompt at school," Susanna said.
"Relax," Riveta said, but there was edge to her voice.
As Mayganne rounded the corner she chuckled as she realized that all those uptight and closed-minded groups intent on policing society's morality were right. Playing videogames had led her to a life of crime. Immersing herself in the sci-fantastic world of Citadel she had started believing herself to be a version of the young rogue-adventurer Maus. She knew it wasn't real exactly, she wasn't delusional... But she had started to feel that if she started to think and act and behave like Maus, then in some sort of strange, maybe magical way, she would become her. And that's when the shoplifting started. And when she started picking fights with the bullies at school. Some bloodied lips and pockets full of useless crap later, she felt it taking hold. And so tonight it had been a full-scale break-in. Complete with black clothes and some tools in a satchel.
Susanna wrapped her arms about herself. She was shivering. Maybe since the attack last night at the store. She hadn't been home since. Hadn't called her family or friends or even work to explain why she had run off and left the store a disaster. How could she?
"You'll explain everything when he gets here, right?" she asked the woman who had saved her and damned her at the same time.
Riveta glanced at her cell phone. "I'm hoping someone will..."
The line started to move. Milton took a deep breath of the mild spring air. He imagined himself as the man that he was sure he was going to become, working with Greg Logollos. Imagined being here at the theatre not to simply watch a play, but to meet with an important contact. Imagined being able to read the intentions of those in line by their postures and body language. Scanning the people passing by for movements that hinted at martial arts training or concealed weapons. That girl over there, in the black clothes, half-running, looking nervous, surely she was up to something dangerous, he imagined.
Mayganne had broken the window, the alarm sounding immediately, had smashed some furniture, the whole time being filmed by the security cameras. It was the type of brash and risky strike that Maus would make against an enemy stronghold. The bank was a kind of enemy, she figured. So she was like Maus, but at the same time she knew that she wasn't. She knew that Maus would escape in the Nexus Wave with her sister Kitty and the noble Serisia, with Vlad the celestial barbarian and the mysterious warrior Chem Finder - who she had a crush on. While Mayganne would no doubt be caught by the police. Which is really what she wanted.
She had stood there, shouting at the cameras, "Make me Maus or make me Mayganne!" Because if she couldn't really be Maus, if this world wouldn't allow it, then she was done with this world. They could lock her away.
"No way," Detective Musharef said as he drove through the intersection. "Tell me, is that not the suspect they just put the bulletin out on?" He pointed up the block.
Stone peered ahead. His eyesight was sometimes tricky in the evening, with the city lights kalidescoping around him. "Could be..."
"Susanna!" Mr. Donnelly called from the opposite side of the street. He glanced right and left and braved the traffic.
Riveta slid a hand to the pistol under her jacket; she wasn't sure what to expect from this meeting.
Susanna hugged her former principal tightly, so relieved to see a familiar face. "What's the matter?" he asked her. "You sounded nervous on the message..."
"I'm pulling over," Musharef said. "That's definitely her. Look how freaked out she is. What did they say she answered to?"
"Mayganne?" Donnelly exclaimed as he saw his student jogging past them. She slowed and looked surprised to see him.
Milton saw the suspicious girl stopping by the man and two women. He imagined that the one woman's hand was tucked inside her jacket to be ready to draw a gun.
Musharef slid out of the car, assessing the group that the suspect had stopped by. Stone eased himself out of the passenger seat.
Donnelly looked confused. "What's going on? Who are you?" he asked the serious-looking woman standing beside his former teacher.
Stone's eyes widened. He felt like his heart stopped. "Riveta?"
Then Riveta's cell phone rang. And Donnelly's cell phone rang. And Mayganne's rang. And Stone's. And Scorpio's cell phone rang.
Across the street Susanna checked her watch again. Riveta scanned the traffic walking and driving past.
"He was always really prompt at school," Susanna said.
"Relax," Riveta said, but there was edge to her voice.
As Mayganne rounded the corner she chuckled as she realized that all those uptight and closed-minded groups intent on policing society's morality were right. Playing videogames had led her to a life of crime. Immersing herself in the sci-fantastic world of Citadel she had started believing herself to be a version of the young rogue-adventurer Maus. She knew it wasn't real exactly, she wasn't delusional... But she had started to feel that if she started to think and act and behave like Maus, then in some sort of strange, maybe magical way, she would become her. And that's when the shoplifting started. And when she started picking fights with the bullies at school. Some bloodied lips and pockets full of useless crap later, she felt it taking hold. And so tonight it had been a full-scale break-in. Complete with black clothes and some tools in a satchel.
Susanna wrapped her arms about herself. She was shivering. Maybe since the attack last night at the store. She hadn't been home since. Hadn't called her family or friends or even work to explain why she had run off and left the store a disaster. How could she?
"You'll explain everything when he gets here, right?" she asked the woman who had saved her and damned her at the same time.
Riveta glanced at her cell phone. "I'm hoping someone will..."
The line started to move. Milton took a deep breath of the mild spring air. He imagined himself as the man that he was sure he was going to become, working with Greg Logollos. Imagined being here at the theatre not to simply watch a play, but to meet with an important contact. Imagined being able to read the intentions of those in line by their postures and body language. Scanning the people passing by for movements that hinted at martial arts training or concealed weapons. That girl over there, in the black clothes, half-running, looking nervous, surely she was up to something dangerous, he imagined.
Mayganne had broken the window, the alarm sounding immediately, had smashed some furniture, the whole time being filmed by the security cameras. It was the type of brash and risky strike that Maus would make against an enemy stronghold. The bank was a kind of enemy, she figured. So she was like Maus, but at the same time she knew that she wasn't. She knew that Maus would escape in the Nexus Wave with her sister Kitty and the noble Serisia, with Vlad the celestial barbarian and the mysterious warrior Chem Finder - who she had a crush on. While Mayganne would no doubt be caught by the police. Which is really what she wanted.
She had stood there, shouting at the cameras, "Make me Maus or make me Mayganne!" Because if she couldn't really be Maus, if this world wouldn't allow it, then she was done with this world. They could lock her away.
"No way," Detective Musharef said as he drove through the intersection. "Tell me, is that not the suspect they just put the bulletin out on?" He pointed up the block.
Stone peered ahead. His eyesight was sometimes tricky in the evening, with the city lights kalidescoping around him. "Could be..."
"Susanna!" Mr. Donnelly called from the opposite side of the street. He glanced right and left and braved the traffic.
Riveta slid a hand to the pistol under her jacket; she wasn't sure what to expect from this meeting.
Susanna hugged her former principal tightly, so relieved to see a familiar face. "What's the matter?" he asked her. "You sounded nervous on the message..."
"I'm pulling over," Musharef said. "That's definitely her. Look how freaked out she is. What did they say she answered to?"
"Mayganne?" Donnelly exclaimed as he saw his student jogging past them. She slowed and looked surprised to see him.
Milton saw the suspicious girl stopping by the man and two women. He imagined that the one woman's hand was tucked inside her jacket to be ready to draw a gun.
Musharef slid out of the car, assessing the group that the suspect had stopped by. Stone eased himself out of the passenger seat.
Donnelly looked confused. "What's going on? Who are you?" he asked the serious-looking woman standing beside his former teacher.
Stone's eyes widened. He felt like his heart stopped. "Riveta?"
Then Riveta's cell phone rang. And Donnelly's cell phone rang. And Mayganne's rang. And Stone's. And Scorpio's cell phone rang.
20131226
Convergence Three
Milton
checked the figures on his sheet and rolled the dice.
"Got it," he said excitedly.
Ayanami nodded from the head of the table, checked her notes. She brushed her blue bangs out of her eyes and fixed Milton with a dramatic stare. "So Scorpio takes the shot and the bullet punctures the panel. Sparks fly... And the steel doors slide open. Everyone make one final health check as the toxins evacuate the chamber."
Shinji made his, as did Milton - and good thing because he was almost out - but Asuka failed hers.
Ayanami continued. "So Aries and Scorpio stay conscious, but you guys still have the action penalty. Gemini passes out."
"I start CPR," Shinji said, rolling the dice. "Got a seventeen."
"I try and keep aim on the doorway," Milton said.
"Alright, Gemini, you get another health check now, at +3 thanks to Aries. And Scorpio, your vision is still a little blurry, but you can make out one of the genetically modified security dogs creeping slowly down the hall. It snarls at you." As Ayanami described the scene, she also passed Milton a note, private character info the other players couldn't hear.
The note said: Scorpio hears a faint buzzing sound inside his head and a staticky voice says 'This transmission is coming to you...'
Milton and some of the other morning commuters had gotten to know each other over the months that they had all shared a car to and from work each day. Milton would often retell the events from his Sunday night gaming group to one or more of the regular train passengers, if he felt that they were in the mood to hear it. He knew they humoured him a lot, and thought him geeky, but they also seemed to enjoy hearing about the ongoing adventures of The Zodiac Squad.
Of course, they had no idea that Milton's gaming group didn't actually exist - that it was something he imagined every night as he fell asleep. A wish-fulfillment fantasy where he played a Role-Playing Game with the characters from the anime Neon Genesis Evangelion. Sometimes he would imagine Ayanami or Asuka going home with him afterwards, but mostly he imagined the gaming sessions. He knew it was strange to imagine pretending to be Scorpio instead of imagining actually being Scorpio, but for some reason he couldn't do it. He had this almost superstitious idea that if he started imagining being Scorpio rather than wanting to be him, that he would somehow never actually become Scorpio in real life.
So every Monday morning during the commute by train into the city, Milton Reddings told his made-up stories about made-up stories. Except the bits about sleeping with cartoon characters.
And this Monday morning one of his regular audience members said, "You know Milton, we could always use a guy like you at the company. If you ever get tired of your current job, that is." He handed Milton his business card.
"Thanks Greg," Milton said. He didn't exactly know what it was that Greg did for a living, but he seemed happy and well-paid.
Milton looked at the card. All it said, above the phone number and the name Greg Logollos, was LEGACY.
"Got it," he said excitedly.
Ayanami nodded from the head of the table, checked her notes. She brushed her blue bangs out of her eyes and fixed Milton with a dramatic stare. "So Scorpio takes the shot and the bullet punctures the panel. Sparks fly... And the steel doors slide open. Everyone make one final health check as the toxins evacuate the chamber."
Shinji made his, as did Milton - and good thing because he was almost out - but Asuka failed hers.
Ayanami continued. "So Aries and Scorpio stay conscious, but you guys still have the action penalty. Gemini passes out."
"I start CPR," Shinji said, rolling the dice. "Got a seventeen."
"I try and keep aim on the doorway," Milton said.
"Alright, Gemini, you get another health check now, at +3 thanks to Aries. And Scorpio, your vision is still a little blurry, but you can make out one of the genetically modified security dogs creeping slowly down the hall. It snarls at you." As Ayanami described the scene, she also passed Milton a note, private character info the other players couldn't hear.
The note said: Scorpio hears a faint buzzing sound inside his head and a staticky voice says 'This transmission is coming to you...'
Milton and some of the other morning commuters had gotten to know each other over the months that they had all shared a car to and from work each day. Milton would often retell the events from his Sunday night gaming group to one or more of the regular train passengers, if he felt that they were in the mood to hear it. He knew they humoured him a lot, and thought him geeky, but they also seemed to enjoy hearing about the ongoing adventures of The Zodiac Squad.
Of course, they had no idea that Milton's gaming group didn't actually exist - that it was something he imagined every night as he fell asleep. A wish-fulfillment fantasy where he played a Role-Playing Game with the characters from the anime Neon Genesis Evangelion. Sometimes he would imagine Ayanami or Asuka going home with him afterwards, but mostly he imagined the gaming sessions. He knew it was strange to imagine pretending to be Scorpio instead of imagining actually being Scorpio, but for some reason he couldn't do it. He had this almost superstitious idea that if he started imagining being Scorpio rather than wanting to be him, that he would somehow never actually become Scorpio in real life.
So every Monday morning during the commute by train into the city, Milton Reddings told his made-up stories about made-up stories. Except the bits about sleeping with cartoon characters.
And this Monday morning one of his regular audience members said, "You know Milton, we could always use a guy like you at the company. If you ever get tired of your current job, that is." He handed Milton his business card.
"Thanks Greg," Milton said. He didn't exactly know what it was that Greg did for a living, but he seemed happy and well-paid.
Milton looked at the card. All it said, above the phone number and the name Greg Logollos, was LEGACY.
20131222
From This World to the Next
Version
Elephant Cobra
Scorpio almost passed out. He grabbed hold of awake and clung to it, the weird lighting of the internet cafe punching into his eyes, his stomach wrestling with the deluge of coffee. He grit his teeth, he clenched his fists. He imagined Wolverine from X2 carving his way through the soldiers storming Xavier's. He took a deep breath. He almost passed out.
Typing quickly, then slowly, sometimes needing to find each key, sometimes running across the keyboard, drunk tightrope, words mispelled, didn't matter these days. Bad spelling, new jargon, Scorpio caught between the two. Hoping he wouldn't fall asleep, didn't want to be awake anymore, caught between the two.
Couldn't let her go. Couldn't let her log out. Didn't know how to ask. Couldn't stay silent. Caught between. Could she tell, could she tell as his text appeared on her screen, wherever she was, whoever she was, how messed up he felt, how desperate he was. Did the stark lines and curves capture the apocalypse in him or erase it. Magic runes summoning the right feeling in her, or suburban architecture strip-malling the forest inside him.
He could just ask, but she was already asking. Would his question connect them or scare her off or worse sound contrived, his true desperate agenda inverted into a ploy, an online flash of a smile and a wink, boozy end-of-the-night lunge for the finish line.
And if she was asking then she couldn't tell him. But maybe he didn't really need to know, he only needed to know that others were asking too...
Except for all the typing he was doing, all the passing-out he wasn't doing, keeping the exchange running, lobbing text at each other across whatever was between them, he couldn't aim for what she had put on display - he envied her courage, he feared her intent. He almost typed about it, finally, but he had another strange flash of black-suited men storming the cafe and he almost passed out again.
He stared at the screen. The chat window open. Their exchange about politics and movies. Her name and quote in the top corner.
Mayganne - who is max cube?
Scorpio almost passed out. He grabbed hold of awake and clung to it, the weird lighting of the internet cafe punching into his eyes, his stomach wrestling with the deluge of coffee. He grit his teeth, he clenched his fists. He imagined Wolverine from X2 carving his way through the soldiers storming Xavier's. He took a deep breath. He almost passed out.
Typing quickly, then slowly, sometimes needing to find each key, sometimes running across the keyboard, drunk tightrope, words mispelled, didn't matter these days. Bad spelling, new jargon, Scorpio caught between the two. Hoping he wouldn't fall asleep, didn't want to be awake anymore, caught between the two.
Couldn't let her go. Couldn't let her log out. Didn't know how to ask. Couldn't stay silent. Caught between. Could she tell, could she tell as his text appeared on her screen, wherever she was, whoever she was, how messed up he felt, how desperate he was. Did the stark lines and curves capture the apocalypse in him or erase it. Magic runes summoning the right feeling in her, or suburban architecture strip-malling the forest inside him.
He could just ask, but she was already asking. Would his question connect them or scare her off or worse sound contrived, his true desperate agenda inverted into a ploy, an online flash of a smile and a wink, boozy end-of-the-night lunge for the finish line.
And if she was asking then she couldn't tell him. But maybe he didn't really need to know, he only needed to know that others were asking too...
Except for all the typing he was doing, all the passing-out he wasn't doing, keeping the exchange running, lobbing text at each other across whatever was between them, he couldn't aim for what she had put on display - he envied her courage, he feared her intent. He almost typed about it, finally, but he had another strange flash of black-suited men storming the cafe and he almost passed out again.
He stared at the screen. The chat window open. Their exchange about politics and movies. Her name and quote in the top corner.
Mayganne - who is max cube?
20131216
Conflict Resolution
Version
Elephant Aardvark
The sweat was starting to fog his goggles. Flies swarmed around his head. The slightest shift of movement crackled the dry grass. The barren trees gave no shade against the sun. His breath was hot inside the helmet.
The enemy patrol crept only yards away. Tight formation. Barrels steadily sweeping the brush. The point-man gave the hand signal for a stop. These guys were pros; they must have sensed something was off.
Scorpio had his orders; wait until the patrol entered the bottleneck. But he knew that things had just become now-or-never.
Leaping from his cover with a roar, the trigger on his weapon squeezed tight, Scorpio lasted about 4 seconds before he started taking hits and his camo jacket was covered in bright yellow splotches of paint.
The sweat was starting to fog his goggles. Flies swarmed around his head. The slightest shift of movement crackled the dry grass. The barren trees gave no shade against the sun. His breath was hot inside the helmet.
The enemy patrol crept only yards away. Tight formation. Barrels steadily sweeping the brush. The point-man gave the hand signal for a stop. These guys were pros; they must have sensed something was off.
Scorpio had his orders; wait until the patrol entered the bottleneck. But he knew that things had just become now-or-never.
Leaping from his cover with a roar, the trigger on his weapon squeezed tight, Scorpio lasted about 4 seconds before he started taking hits and his camo jacket was covered in bright yellow splotches of paint.
20131215
Geekdom
Version
Elephant Tiger
Scorpio scanned the racks, looking for a title he recognized. Harbingers, The Haunted Seven, Macrotech Warriors... He had never heard of any of them. It was making him nervous. He really really wanted to pick up a comic, grab a coffee, and sit and relax for a while.
At the counter, a customer was talking to the clerk.
"I saw this really neat looking documentary where these guys dress up as knights and stuff, and they fight, like a game, or a sport I guess-"
"That's called LARPing," the clerk explained. "Live Action Role Playing. Like Dungeons and Dragons but people actually act it out."
"Sounds neat... But I think I would have a hard time suspending my disbelief."
Scorpio frowned, and slipped a hand into the inside pocket of his coat. Felt the cellphone there. Pulled out a piece of paper. Unfolded it.
Name: Scorpio
Occupation: Special-ops Soldier
Intellect Pool: 3 Physical Pool: 5 Spiritual Pool: 2
Stamina: 10 Soak: 7 Fate: 3
Vocations: firearms, defensive, rogue
He felt a shiver run up his spine.
Scorpio scanned the racks, looking for a title he recognized. Harbingers, The Haunted Seven, Macrotech Warriors... He had never heard of any of them. It was making him nervous. He really really wanted to pick up a comic, grab a coffee, and sit and relax for a while.
At the counter, a customer was talking to the clerk.
"I saw this really neat looking documentary where these guys dress up as knights and stuff, and they fight, like a game, or a sport I guess-"
"That's called LARPing," the clerk explained. "Live Action Role Playing. Like Dungeons and Dragons but people actually act it out."
"Sounds neat... But I think I would have a hard time suspending my disbelief."
Scorpio frowned, and slipped a hand into the inside pocket of his coat. Felt the cellphone there. Pulled out a piece of paper. Unfolded it.
Name: Scorpio
Occupation: Special-ops Soldier
Intellect Pool: 3 Physical Pool: 5 Spiritual Pool: 2
Stamina: 10 Soak: 7 Fate: 3
Vocations: firearms, defensive, rogue
He felt a shiver run up his spine.
20131212
REALTIME PICS
At the Diner - Max, Suki, Scorpio, Riveta, Stone
Outside the Diner - Max and Simon
Selfies - Donnelly and Mayganne / Suki
Max and Suki discuss who is driving.
20131211
DAY THIRTY 22:00PM
Yum
They were sitting there in the diner, sipping coffee and chatting. It had been nearly 24 hours since the events had occurred.
Max sat at the end of the table, close to the window.
His fingers drumming out the beat going through his head. He didn't know he was doing it, though it made for a ambient sound throughout the diner. The ashtray dancing on the table, adding a crystal cymbal sound now and then. Music was pumping through his veins.
The waitress strolled over with a full coffee urn in her hands; she didn't even have to ask if they wanted more and she began refilling each of them.
Max, Simon, Riveta, Stone, Scorpio and Suki were all tired, going on 2 days without any real sleep at all.
All of them knew that they had things to do and people to see but they could do that tomorrow. Right now, it was just time to sit back and enjoy each others company.
As the last of the coffee was refilled Max said, "Thanks, Alice."
"No," the waitress replied with a smile and a wink; she began dropping creamers onto each of their saucers. "Thank you, Max."
20131210
DAY TWENTYNINE 23:05PM
Resuce Me
Stone and Scorpio were back to back. Firing at anything and everything that seemed to move. Their heads were clear, they seemed to have one focus. Kill or be killed, die now and the universe with them.
Bullet casings dropped about them like a torrential rain.
DAY TWENTYNINE 22:47PM
Scan
Upon the breach of the Citadel-class complex housed within the Tower, a telepathic surveillance sweep was automatically directed towards the infiltrators, for highspeed analysis and distribution to grafted security personnel, for exploitation and counter-tactical responses.
Target A: Josiah Stone
...stopthesesonofbitchesputanend totheirsicktwistedbullshitcomingforyou paybacktimenomoreyoubastardsnomore...
Target B: Sandrine Riveta
...keeptightstayonhisflanknot gonnalosehimagainbreathesteadyinhale triggerexhaleitsjustspecialeffects psyopshitdon'tletitfreakyououtstay onstoneyou'llgetthroughthis...
Target C Milton 'Scorpio' Reddings
...iknowyou'rereadingmymindright nowiknowallaboutyoubecauseiwasyoubut thingsaredifferentnowshesavedmeand we'regoingtosavethemandyoucan'tstopus...
Target D: Simon Light
...it'shappeningreallyhappening theachetheholeinmeit'sclosingthisisitf inallyaftersolongohalisonifyouonlyknew whatwe'redoingwe'regoingtodoitthank youmax...
Target E: Max Cube
...hib4u34847hfi44jhbdf4i4908atf ar232fbedej3i9iedi3u3j3j3bci33903938w jwhddkuwgcdcjn...
DAY TWENTYNINE 21:32PM
Prophecies and Eulogies
Max lit a cigarette. Three left in the pack.
Suki watched him. She had seem him do the exact same thing hundreds of times, but years ago, so it seemed familiar but distant. “It's good to see you again, Max.”
He exhaled smoke. “I... I wasn't sure... What it would be like.”
She smiled softly. “So what is it like?”
”It's scary... And nice.”
She reached out and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “You really haven't changed.”
”No? I feel different.”
”I'm sorry about that..."
”Oh, I don't mean because of the device-”
”I didn't know what else to do, Max. Things were starting to get really messed up, and I needed to think of something. Anything that might give us a shot.”
”I know that feeling, Suki.”
”Yeah, I guess you do.”
”I'm sorry I couldn't see it happening..." Max said. "It's like... I've been living like this for so long, I can't even notice when everything's falling apart. If you hadn't been here..."
”Except now everyone's dead. Except for them-” She gestured to the others gathered a little ways away. “-and the priest.”
”Yeah, but they're safe," Max said. "And now we have a chance to get them all back. What's the line? 'You did what you always do: turned death into a fighting chance'. Or something like that.”
”Bones to Kirk, in the third one. I still remember doing that marathon with you and Akimoto. I liked the one with the whales the best.”
Max smiled at the memory. “Simon says that Alice was already dead... According to the intel LEGACY got from Hank. No idea why. They played me Suki, and I didn't see it. They cut me off from her, and from you...”
Suki gave him a light punch to the arm. “If you beat yourself up now what will the bad guys have left to do when we hit the place?” She watched the tip of his cigarette flare in the the deepening night. “You haven't asked me why I was looking for you...”
”I'm not sure I'm ready to know.”
She changed the subject. Went professional. “What about this Light guy? Scorpio says LEGACY has had their eye on him. You think this was supposed to be his initiation?”
”I don't know... He seems familiar to me... Maybe from another version? There's something about him...” Max shrugged. “He's been initiated now, either way.”
She smirked. “It's what you do.”
Max looked at her with a mix of nostalgia and sadness. He took another drag, glanced over to Scorpio, who was cleaning a rifle for the third time.
Suki shrugged. “Hey, I learned from the best.”
Max dropped the butt and ground it out. Looked at Suki, standing beside him, older, in her school uniform costume, the Godhammer hanging at her side. The smirk, the eye-roll, the frown, all so familiar, but she had new expressions too; she smiled in new ways, she looked sad in new ways.
He opened his mouth to try and say it, to try and somehow turn it into words he could say to her.
”No Max,” she said. “Not now."
DAY TWENTYNINE 13:47PM
Disinformation
"You know that's so simple it just might work," Suki said. She was leaning up against Max's arm, more relaxed than she had been in weeks. They were all crowded around the hood of a car looking down at a huge map.
"Does everyone know what to do and when to do it?" Max asked. His eyes had cleared, and he seemed to be focused on the task at hand. "Because, if we don't do this here and now, Alice, Mayganne and the others will be lost forever."
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