Monday, March 14, 2011
We Did It!
Below you'll find the 24-Hour novel, in its entirety, as it was written (the only editing I've done is putting it in order for easier reading). Feel free to leave comments or let us know what you think about this piece. For me, I don't know about everyone else, this was more about the process than the piece itself. I know- that's odd:)
Friday, March 11, 2011
The Prologue
Welcome to Sector 7 of the wondrous city of Jiopharen in the country of Nebrios. It’s not much, but it’s what I call home. If you could call a garbage heap a home. Trash litters the street like bushes and trees. The people living here live simple lives. Most of them just wander aimlessly around, as there is nothing to do here. No official jobs. No high paying resource. Just a haven for the Exiled and the Unlucky. I myself am an Unlucky.
My parents were successful business owners over in Sector 4. They ran a bakery of all things. In fact, before they were married they were rivals in the bakery business. But they combined their business with their love and practically became a monopoly in the bakery business. Now the government didn’t like that so they shut them down and booted them into Sector 7. They lived long enough to see me reach my eighth birthday. After that, they got caught in the crossfire of the revolutionary group and some government police officials. So I’ve been living on my own for the last twelve years. It’s been quite nice.
My name is Alfred. Alfred Younts. I am a courier, or at least that’s what the rich people call me. A courier of goods. I wander around Sector 7 looking for anything useful or enticing. It’s not hard, but it pays well. The people pay unimaginable amounts of money for some of this useless junk. Last thing I sold was a worn out blender. I got two hundred neggets for it. Now that is a good deal in my opinion. One negget is worth ten negs, and one neg is worth twenty gens. Simple to remember right? Twenty gens to a neg, and ten negs to a negget. I bought myself some hot water for a week. It was nice. Now it’s gone and I have to go out on my own again.
What I really want though, is to get outside. To go back to where my parents lived before me. To the rest of the city. Unfortunately, that is out of the question for a poor guy like me. Sector 7 people don’t get any pass cards. Nope. All we get is the largest, most worthless sector. It looks almost the same, no matter where you go. People outside this dismal place, however, have cards that allow them to go almost anywhere. People of Sector 3 have green cards that allow them to get into Sectors 3, 4 and 8. People of Sectors 4 and 8, like my parents, have blue cards, allowing them to visit lovely Sector 7 as well. Sector 5 snobs, (and high paying customers), and Sector 2 police officials have purple cards, allowing access to any of the previous areas. The high and mighty government employees have yellow cards, which allow them access to any part of the city, except for the Sector 9 reactor. High ranking government pricks have red cards, which can go into Sector 9. And our glorious idiot of a leader, Ralphonse III, has the single white card, which allows for him to go anywhere, including the mysterious Sector 0, if it exists. I doubt it. Clariia says it does, but I highly doubt it to be true.
My parents were successful business owners over in Sector 4. They ran a bakery of all things. In fact, before they were married they were rivals in the bakery business. But they combined their business with their love and practically became a monopoly in the bakery business. Now the government didn’t like that so they shut them down and booted them into Sector 7. They lived long enough to see me reach my eighth birthday. After that, they got caught in the crossfire of the revolutionary group and some government police officials. So I’ve been living on my own for the last twelve years. It’s been quite nice.
My name is Alfred. Alfred Younts. I am a courier, or at least that’s what the rich people call me. A courier of goods. I wander around Sector 7 looking for anything useful or enticing. It’s not hard, but it pays well. The people pay unimaginable amounts of money for some of this useless junk. Last thing I sold was a worn out blender. I got two hundred neggets for it. Now that is a good deal in my opinion. One negget is worth ten negs, and one neg is worth twenty gens. Simple to remember right? Twenty gens to a neg, and ten negs to a negget. I bought myself some hot water for a week. It was nice. Now it’s gone and I have to go out on my own again.
What I really want though, is to get outside. To go back to where my parents lived before me. To the rest of the city. Unfortunately, that is out of the question for a poor guy like me. Sector 7 people don’t get any pass cards. Nope. All we get is the largest, most worthless sector. It looks almost the same, no matter where you go. People outside this dismal place, however, have cards that allow them to go almost anywhere. People of Sector 3 have green cards that allow them to get into Sectors 3, 4 and 8. People of Sectors 4 and 8, like my parents, have blue cards, allowing them to visit lovely Sector 7 as well. Sector 5 snobs, (and high paying customers), and Sector 2 police officials have purple cards, allowing access to any of the previous areas. The high and mighty government employees have yellow cards, which allow them access to any part of the city, except for the Sector 9 reactor. High ranking government pricks have red cards, which can go into Sector 9. And our glorious idiot of a leader, Ralphonse III, has the single white card, which allows for him to go anywhere, including the mysterious Sector 0, if it exists. I doubt it. Clariia says it does, but I highly doubt it to be true.
Chapter 1
“Hey Clari! How are ya?” I yelled with a jovial tone into her garage. Clariia Yato was an Exiled. She was the daughter of a yellowcarder, until the government shoved her out here. She made gadgets. Good gadgets. They didn’t like that. So, now she is here in her garage. It was stacked millions upon millions of little gadgets. Some were functioning correctly, others in odd non-dangerous ways, still others with no movement at all. The path through it to where her workbench was is treacherous for those without a good sense of balance and direction. The face that it takes ten minutes to get from one side of a twenty foot square garage is beyond belief.
“Hey dorkface! Shut it! Do you want the police to haul your sorry self in for being disruptive? You know? Shut down my entire business here? Get me hauled off to the outer lands and left there to die?” she turned towards me with fury etched in every line of her baby cute face. Her burgundy red hair was pulled up in a tight ponytail directly opposite the center of her eyes. Those sky blue orbs currently smoldered at me with undisguised rage. I held my hands up in defeat.
“Ok, ok, ok. No need to kill me, eh? Your one and only friend?” I asked my voice shaking with suppressed laughter.
“You know I have other friends! I’m surrounded by them! Just because you wear that faded grey comicin leather jacket doesn’t mean that you are king of my word, Freddie. So cool it,” she growled, turning back to her work. Now that sounded pretty good. It’s a pity that this isn’t really comicin leather, which is a hide from a carnivorous cow that our people hunt for sport. It’s just imitation leather. Works for me though!
“Well, I’m about to do my rounds again. Any place I should check?” I asked picking up my courier’s bag and diasteel tongs. She turned to a computer right next to her workbench.
“Oh, Diagram 18 is looking funky. I think there is a new object there. Must be special. Its readings are currently off the charts. It’s buried in about five pounds of liquid nitro though. Be careful,” she cautioned.
“Oh, I’m always cautious. It’s everyone else that isn’t,” I replied with a smug grin as I turned to leave her garage.
She sighed at my bad pun and went back to work.
“Hey dorkface! Shut it! Do you want the police to haul your sorry self in for being disruptive? You know? Shut down my entire business here? Get me hauled off to the outer lands and left there to die?” she turned towards me with fury etched in every line of her baby cute face. Her burgundy red hair was pulled up in a tight ponytail directly opposite the center of her eyes. Those sky blue orbs currently smoldered at me with undisguised rage. I held my hands up in defeat.
“Ok, ok, ok. No need to kill me, eh? Your one and only friend?” I asked my voice shaking with suppressed laughter.
“You know I have other friends! I’m surrounded by them! Just because you wear that faded grey comicin leather jacket doesn’t mean that you are king of my word, Freddie. So cool it,” she growled, turning back to her work. Now that sounded pretty good. It’s a pity that this isn’t really comicin leather, which is a hide from a carnivorous cow that our people hunt for sport. It’s just imitation leather. Works for me though!
“Well, I’m about to do my rounds again. Any place I should check?” I asked picking up my courier’s bag and diasteel tongs. She turned to a computer right next to her workbench.
“Oh, Diagram 18 is looking funky. I think there is a new object there. Must be special. Its readings are currently off the charts. It’s buried in about five pounds of liquid nitro though. Be careful,” she cautioned.
“Oh, I’m always cautious. It’s everyone else that isn’t,” I replied with a smug grin as I turned to leave her garage.
She sighed at my bad pun and went back to work.
Chapter 1 Part 2
Sector 7 is spilt into 343 diagrams, each spanning about three living areas. Not that every living area is inhabited by humans. Most are abandoned because their owners are wandering aimlessly through the streets, attacking anyone that gets too close. Most of the older people are feral here. It’s a tough life, but some just lose it. Sector 7 is a bad place to walk alone.
Yet I do it all the time. I can handle some forty year old that’s lost his mind. It’s actually quite easy. Just hit them in the nose and they back away. Hit them again and they run off. Simple right?
Clariia’s garage is in Diagram 72, near the border with the calm educational sector, Sector 6. Diagram 18 is near the wall between us and the market in Sector 4. Feral ones love to hang around there. The smells from the market are enticing, but unattainable, what with fifty foot walls separating us from them. The walls of the outside are even taller, reaching heights of seventy-five, one hundred feet. At least, that’s what my parents told me. They even taught me how to read. I think there superb parenting is what made it so I don’t go into the idiot state of the living dead. Or worse, the feral ones. Some of my friends from childhood did that. I think two were shot trying to attack a police officer, and a third managed to climb the wall with his bare hands. He then got ran over by a wall trolley. Two others are still alive, but keep their distance from me. I don’t really know about the rest of my friends. They just vanished from my life. Such is the law of the slums: Don’t do right, and you die.
I passed the club in Diagram 30, Clubo Arcano. It’s a pretty neat place, what with good patrons that will buy anything if they are drunk enough. And the bartender is a good friend of mine. He doesn’t talk much, but he can get a rich guy punch-drunk in three shots of some low ounce beer. That takes skill.
Clubs are illegal, in a technical sense. They only reason they are around is because the rich love them so much. They lobby so much with the redcarders that they needed them to stay alive, so the whitecarder turns a blind eye. So clubs operate in the open, with no need to hide. The electric lights cost a fortune to run, but clubs still make a considerable profit. Each club has a courier. I’m Clubo Arcano’s courier. So, if I don’t sell anything in three sittings, they buy it off my hands and send me on my way.
There were some drunks just hanging around at the entrance. They jeered and laughed at me as I passed. One noticed the symbol on my courier bag and whistled.
“Hey boy! You got anything in there?” he shouted with a slur of drunkenness. I stopped and turned towards them, refusing to make eye contact.
“Give me five minutes good sirs. I have something important to go pick up that will make your lives spin round and round,” I solicited, hoping I could get away to that good find before another courier got it. Once a courier nabs the item, that item is gone. That is rule one of being a courier. Thou shalt not steal from other couriers. Rule two. Thou shalt take anything of value from thy streets and other streets and thou shall not be robbed by a fellow courier. Rule three. Anything of value on thy streets and other streets is fair game to thy competitors unless thou pickest it up.
“It better be good little boy! I’ll give you a real treat for it!” he shouted waving his hand so I could leave. I left in a brisk walk away from them, hoping his friends wouldn’t stop me. Ten minutes later I entered Diagram 18. A puddle of liquid nitrogen was sitting in the direct center of the road, stretching from building to building. It was large enough that people couldn’t jump over it, yet small enough to not be noticed for a long time. I stared at the puddle, looking for what I wanted. Ah. There it is. A small grey canister set against the electric blue of the liquid nitro. I reached for it with my diasteel tongs and latched on to it. It was in a metal case, so it was easy to grab a hold of. The magnets in my tongs snatched it easily and pulled it out of the nitro. It stuck to the metal like honey and wouldn’t let go. I pulled and pulled and it still wouldn’t release its grasp on my metal prize. Finally, I reached into my courier’s bag and pulled out a small grade Boron knife. This little beauty worked wonders with any liquid elements. Designed by the famed alchemist Vladimir von Boron, it cost three months worth of courier selling. But it definitely was worth it!
I cut through the honey-like fibers and pulled my new prize away. I opened it to reveal four syringes filled with some foul-looking lavender substance streaked with specks of grey and darker grey.
These must be those new drugs that the rich were talking about a couple weeks back. Hydrospeed? Is that the name?
Yet I do it all the time. I can handle some forty year old that’s lost his mind. It’s actually quite easy. Just hit them in the nose and they back away. Hit them again and they run off. Simple right?
Clariia’s garage is in Diagram 72, near the border with the calm educational sector, Sector 6. Diagram 18 is near the wall between us and the market in Sector 4. Feral ones love to hang around there. The smells from the market are enticing, but unattainable, what with fifty foot walls separating us from them. The walls of the outside are even taller, reaching heights of seventy-five, one hundred feet. At least, that’s what my parents told me. They even taught me how to read. I think there superb parenting is what made it so I don’t go into the idiot state of the living dead. Or worse, the feral ones. Some of my friends from childhood did that. I think two were shot trying to attack a police officer, and a third managed to climb the wall with his bare hands. He then got ran over by a wall trolley. Two others are still alive, but keep their distance from me. I don’t really know about the rest of my friends. They just vanished from my life. Such is the law of the slums: Don’t do right, and you die.
I passed the club in Diagram 30, Clubo Arcano. It’s a pretty neat place, what with good patrons that will buy anything if they are drunk enough. And the bartender is a good friend of mine. He doesn’t talk much, but he can get a rich guy punch-drunk in three shots of some low ounce beer. That takes skill.
Clubs are illegal, in a technical sense. They only reason they are around is because the rich love them so much. They lobby so much with the redcarders that they needed them to stay alive, so the whitecarder turns a blind eye. So clubs operate in the open, with no need to hide. The electric lights cost a fortune to run, but clubs still make a considerable profit. Each club has a courier. I’m Clubo Arcano’s courier. So, if I don’t sell anything in three sittings, they buy it off my hands and send me on my way.
There were some drunks just hanging around at the entrance. They jeered and laughed at me as I passed. One noticed the symbol on my courier bag and whistled.
“Hey boy! You got anything in there?” he shouted with a slur of drunkenness. I stopped and turned towards them, refusing to make eye contact.
“Give me five minutes good sirs. I have something important to go pick up that will make your lives spin round and round,” I solicited, hoping I could get away to that good find before another courier got it. Once a courier nabs the item, that item is gone. That is rule one of being a courier. Thou shalt not steal from other couriers. Rule two. Thou shalt take anything of value from thy streets and other streets and thou shall not be robbed by a fellow courier. Rule three. Anything of value on thy streets and other streets is fair game to thy competitors unless thou pickest it up.
“It better be good little boy! I’ll give you a real treat for it!” he shouted waving his hand so I could leave. I left in a brisk walk away from them, hoping his friends wouldn’t stop me. Ten minutes later I entered Diagram 18. A puddle of liquid nitrogen was sitting in the direct center of the road, stretching from building to building. It was large enough that people couldn’t jump over it, yet small enough to not be noticed for a long time. I stared at the puddle, looking for what I wanted. Ah. There it is. A small grey canister set against the electric blue of the liquid nitro. I reached for it with my diasteel tongs and latched on to it. It was in a metal case, so it was easy to grab a hold of. The magnets in my tongs snatched it easily and pulled it out of the nitro. It stuck to the metal like honey and wouldn’t let go. I pulled and pulled and it still wouldn’t release its grasp on my metal prize. Finally, I reached into my courier’s bag and pulled out a small grade Boron knife. This little beauty worked wonders with any liquid elements. Designed by the famed alchemist Vladimir von Boron, it cost three months worth of courier selling. But it definitely was worth it!
I cut through the honey-like fibers and pulled my new prize away. I opened it to reveal four syringes filled with some foul-looking lavender substance streaked with specks of grey and darker grey.
These must be those new drugs that the rich were talking about a couple weeks back. Hydrospeed? Is that the name?
Chapter 1 Part 3
I went back to the Clubo Arcano. I heard plenty of strange noises heading back too. Crackles and crunches on either side of the street. I was glad to be back in the relative safety of the Clubo Arcano. Those rich people were still there. Which was surprising, as rich people never stayed in one place for too long? And I recognized that particular group. They were club hoppers, going from club to club to see what the couriers had. I guess they really wanted what I had.
I walked towards them and the guy who singled me out earlier spotted me with the canister in my hands.
“Ooh. That looks special. What’s your price?” he looked at the canister hungrily. I thought fast. This was rare. A rich person allowing a slime like myself to decide the price? I thought back to my wish and answered clearly.
“I want one of your purple cards.”
“What?” one of the leader’s buddies spewed out his drink and looked at me as if I were deranged.
“That is a pretty hefty price, I must admit,” the leader said diplomatically. “For an unknown object I will have to pass.” He started walking away. His group also started to leave.
“WAIT!” I shouted. They stopped and looked back at me with loathing etched on their faces. “It is not an unknown object. I appraised it to be Hydrospeed. Four syringes full of Hydrospeed.” I pulled out one of the syringes and watched their faces change in rapid succession from the hatred to intense hunger.
“Malco, give the good man your card. We’ll let you in later,” the leader issued a command to the one who had spoken out earlier. The guy pulled out his card without a single thought and handed it to me. Once I grabbed a hold of the card, I dropped the canister onto the ground and ran from those wolves as fast as I could. That was standard courier etiquette. Run the hell away as soon as the transaction is done. I heard a commotion as I left, but I didn’t turn back.
I ran towards Diagram 5, the entrance to Sector 4. Sector 5 was too far away to be of any use. And plus, I wanted to see the market. The place where my parents lived before this living hell.
I walked towards them and the guy who singled me out earlier spotted me with the canister in my hands.
“Ooh. That looks special. What’s your price?” he looked at the canister hungrily. I thought fast. This was rare. A rich person allowing a slime like myself to decide the price? I thought back to my wish and answered clearly.
“I want one of your purple cards.”
“What?” one of the leader’s buddies spewed out his drink and looked at me as if I were deranged.
“That is a pretty hefty price, I must admit,” the leader said diplomatically. “For an unknown object I will have to pass.” He started walking away. His group also started to leave.
“WAIT!” I shouted. They stopped and looked back at me with loathing etched on their faces. “It is not an unknown object. I appraised it to be Hydrospeed. Four syringes full of Hydrospeed.” I pulled out one of the syringes and watched their faces change in rapid succession from the hatred to intense hunger.
“Malco, give the good man your card. We’ll let you in later,” the leader issued a command to the one who had spoken out earlier. The guy pulled out his card without a single thought and handed it to me. Once I grabbed a hold of the card, I dropped the canister onto the ground and ran from those wolves as fast as I could. That was standard courier etiquette. Run the hell away as soon as the transaction is done. I heard a commotion as I left, but I didn’t turn back.
I ran towards Diagram 5, the entrance to Sector 4. Sector 5 was too far away to be of any use. And plus, I wanted to see the market. The place where my parents lived before this living hell.
Chapter 2
I swiped my card through the terminal and the bronze double doors opened. I was shocked. They had actually given me a purple card. I walked through and stepped on the glossy floor of burnished bronze. The room was all the same color, bronze. On one side was a set of doors, all with a number above them. Next to that side was two doors, one depicting a blue man, the other a pink woman. Those must be actual bathrooms. I stared with wonder. I walked to the door with the blue man and walked inside. It was a pristine room, filled with white tiles on every surface. A long counter lined with sinks dominated one half of a wall of the room. The other half was dominated by a large mirror. I had never seen something of that quality before. On the other half of the room were these strange enamel colored devices shaped like bowls. They all had a handle above them that whirred and clicked. I looked closer and saw that it was made out of small clockwork parts, and some steam furnishings, as it belched steam every couple of seconds. Next to the bowls were small areas that were walled off with flimsy carbomateria walls. I opened one of the doors and saw a clockwork toilet. I had a steam one installed last year, but it cost a fortune to always run, so I didn’t use it often. It was made of the same enamel colored material as the bowls outside. I shut the door behind me and used the toilet to its fullest purpose.
Needless to say, I don’t need to describe what I did.
After I was done I clicked the clockwork knob above it and the water flushed all my excess materials away. It was a satisfying sound, so unlike the one any of the steam toilets of Sector 7 made. I walked out of the stall and up to one of the sinks on the opposite walls. I turned the right know till it was perpendicular to me. I heard gears whirring and water erupted from the faucet. I stuck my hands under the water and felt a refreshing coolness. After about a minute, the water became too cold to be bearable, so I pulled my hands out of it and turned off the faucet. I device near the exit looked promising, so I pushed the single button on it. Gears creaked as a influx of air was expelled from the device and dried my hands almost instantly. I left the restroom with a feeling of contentment.
After returning to the lobby of burnished bronze I walked towards the door labeled by a four. I opened the sliding door with my card and walked in.
----------------
This is my last post. Have a good time.
Needless to say, I don’t need to describe what I did.
After I was done I clicked the clockwork knob above it and the water flushed all my excess materials away. It was a satisfying sound, so unlike the one any of the steam toilets of Sector 7 made. I walked out of the stall and up to one of the sinks on the opposite walls. I turned the right know till it was perpendicular to me. I heard gears whirring and water erupted from the faucet. I stuck my hands under the water and felt a refreshing coolness. After about a minute, the water became too cold to be bearable, so I pulled my hands out of it and turned off the faucet. I device near the exit looked promising, so I pushed the single button on it. Gears creaked as a influx of air was expelled from the device and dried my hands almost instantly. I left the restroom with a feeling of contentment.
After returning to the lobby of burnished bronze I walked towards the door labeled by a four. I opened the sliding door with my card and walked in.
----------------
This is my last post. Have a good time.
Chapter 2 part 2
Beyond the door the market was busy and full of people bustling from one shop to the next. The streets were clean and swept of the trash and litter. I walking into the crowd and surveyed the shops. A butchers shop with fatty meats, a clothing store, a vegetable stand with lush greens and colorful produce, nothing like what we had in Sector 7. I leisurely paced though the road and checked out all the shops. It was just like I imagined. This was exactly the place I could imagine my parents with their bakery.
Reluctantly I left gleaming Sector 4 and returned to the slums of Sector 7. I took a last look at the market Sector before thinking to myself, “Lucky bastards.” I made my way back to Diagram 72, to Clariia’s garage. She was standing on a shelf reaching for a gear when I walked in. She was preoccupied, so I cupped my hands around my mouth and yelled, “You really shouldn’t be doing that.” She jumped and nearly fell backward.
“Was that really necessar…” she stepped down and turned to me. I held my card between my index and middle fingers. She gasped, “Where did you get that?”
“That item in Diagram 18 was Hydrospeed. I traded up for this!” I grinned. “Do you realize the kind of haul I can bring in now that I have this?”
“Do you realize the inventions I can make now that I have this? You think you could leave this with me overnight?”
Reluctantly I left gleaming Sector 4 and returned to the slums of Sector 7. I took a last look at the market Sector before thinking to myself, “Lucky bastards.” I made my way back to Diagram 72, to Clariia’s garage. She was standing on a shelf reaching for a gear when I walked in. She was preoccupied, so I cupped my hands around my mouth and yelled, “You really shouldn’t be doing that.” She jumped and nearly fell backward.
“Was that really necessar…” she stepped down and turned to me. I held my card between my index and middle fingers. She gasped, “Where did you get that?”
“That item in Diagram 18 was Hydrospeed. I traded up for this!” I grinned. “Do you realize the kind of haul I can bring in now that I have this?”
“Do you realize the inventions I can make now that I have this? You think you could leave this with me overnight?”
Chapter 2 part 3
I hesitated before handing her the purple card. I turned to leave for my apartment when she said, “So there is still someplace better than here.” I paused for a moment and nodded my head. When I heard her begin to tinker again I walked out onto the street.
The sun was beginning to set behind the walls so I left for home. My apartment was small but I suited me. I had window, not much of a view beyond it but a window all the same. In the streets a young woman ushered her child into her home and a feral man was snarling at a police officer. There was a shot and blood coming from the feral ones head. Ah, the sights and sounds of the sector of slums. I kicked off my shoes by the door and stretched out on my cot before dozing off.
I awoke to the sounds of my window being smashed. In the shadowy moonlight I saw the shape of a foot kicking out the glass pane. The rest of the body followed through the opening and into my apartment. In a second or two three men stood over my cot. There apparent leader had a crude gun, which he pointed at me and said, “We want you card, courier.”
My eyes widened as I stared down the barrel of the revolver. “I don’t have it.”
“We saw you come out of Sector 4,” he persisted. He pushed the gun to my neck and forced me to the wall.
“You must be mistaken, I don’t have a purple card,” I lied though my teeth, well half lied. I didn’t technically have the card.
The sun was beginning to set behind the walls so I left for home. My apartment was small but I suited me. I had window, not much of a view beyond it but a window all the same. In the streets a young woman ushered her child into her home and a feral man was snarling at a police officer. There was a shot and blood coming from the feral ones head. Ah, the sights and sounds of the sector of slums. I kicked off my shoes by the door and stretched out on my cot before dozing off.
I awoke to the sounds of my window being smashed. In the shadowy moonlight I saw the shape of a foot kicking out the glass pane. The rest of the body followed through the opening and into my apartment. In a second or two three men stood over my cot. There apparent leader had a crude gun, which he pointed at me and said, “We want you card, courier.”
My eyes widened as I stared down the barrel of the revolver. “I don’t have it.”
“We saw you come out of Sector 4,” he persisted. He pushed the gun to my neck and forced me to the wall.
“You must be mistaken, I don’t have a purple card,” I lied though my teeth, well half lied. I didn’t technically have the card.
Chapter 2 part 4
“We never said nothin’ about the card being purple, scum,” one of the other men said.
“Where is it?” the leader demanded. By the looks of them they seemed to be rebels. My eyes darted to my courier bag. The knife inside seemed to be my only hope for defense at this point. I raised my hands and stood, moving toward the bag. The man’s finger moved toward the trigger.
“I get it for you,” I said in a falsely calm voice, my eyes never leaving the gun. I backed toward the door where my bag sat with my boots. I took my eyes away from the barrel and searched though my bag, seemingly looking for my card. I took the knife in hand and turned the bag over to show it was empty. “See? I don’t have it. But I’ve got something else for you.” I charged at one of the rebels, driving the knife into his arm and slashing the chest of one of the others.
“Stupid move, kid.” The one with a gun said. His finger began to press the trigger when he hesitated. He stepped towards me and bashed me in the head with the butt. I crumpled and they made their escape. My apartment went blurry then faded.
____________________________________________________
Alright I think I'm done. Good luck to whomever is next!
“Where is it?” the leader demanded. By the looks of them they seemed to be rebels. My eyes darted to my courier bag. The knife inside seemed to be my only hope for defense at this point. I raised my hands and stood, moving toward the bag. The man’s finger moved toward the trigger.
“I get it for you,” I said in a falsely calm voice, my eyes never leaving the gun. I backed toward the door where my bag sat with my boots. I took my eyes away from the barrel and searched though my bag, seemingly looking for my card. I took the knife in hand and turned the bag over to show it was empty. “See? I don’t have it. But I’ve got something else for you.” I charged at one of the rebels, driving the knife into his arm and slashing the chest of one of the others.
“Stupid move, kid.” The one with a gun said. His finger began to press the trigger when he hesitated. He stepped towards me and bashed me in the head with the butt. I crumpled and they made their escape. My apartment went blurry then faded.
____________________________________________________
Alright I think I'm done. Good luck to whomever is next!
Chapter 3
“Hello? Hellooooo? Hellllloooooooo?” a feminine voice echoed above me.
“Ugh, what?” I put my hand to my head and felt the large bump there. “Ow, what the blast?” I massaged the bump with careful precision.
“Ok, he’s awake. Open his eyes,” a gruff male voice reverberated in front of me. I realized that I was not lying down as I had thought, but sitting in a rough metal chair. I heard a whistling sound and a force hit my head with the strength of two comicins bull rushing me. My eyes shot open and a tooth went whizzing out of my mouth. I looked around for my attacker.
There were three people in the room. One, a man with a heavy scowl, was sitting just across a little table. One other, a brown haired girl, was standing right behind me. Third, a man with bright red hair and a bright red mustache, was standing behind the other man, like he was the other man’s bodyguard. I was chained to my chair by some cheap carbomateria rip-off, probably magnemateria.
“We have been waiting for you to wake up,” the scowling man said. “What did you do with that card?”
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” I lied through my teeth.
“Oh, I’m sure you don’t,” he laughed sarcastically. “Now, where is it?”
“I don’t know where it is,” I lied again. I didn’t want to Clari to be caught up in this.
“Yes. You do. We saw you go out of Sector 7 and into one of the other sectors. With a card that we were trying to steal. Those club hoppers you sold the Hydrospeed to? We were after them. We almost got the Hydrospeed too, but you showed up first. We had wanted to get their cards the easy way, but noooo! You had to show up and ruin the plan we have made for several months. It took us almost a year to get a member onto the trash control so he could send us that Hydrospeed. And you ruined it,” the scowling man rumbled and threw his hands around as he talked.
“Trash control?” I asked with curiosity.
The girl lounging behind me answered. “Flying garbage dumps that add to the trash of Sector 7. The other sectors don’t want it, so we get it, whether we like it or not. The general populace does not know of the trash control, so, keep it that way, ‘k?”
“Enough,” the scowling commanded. The girl fell silent immediately. “Just give us the card courier, and we will let go on with your merry life.”
“I don’t have it anymore sir,” I replied honestly.
“Then who does?” he asked, leaning in.
“A friend of mine. An Exiled,” I shamefacedly said those two sentences.
“Ok, Veronica, Sean, go get this Exiled,” the big one ordered. “Until your friend is brought in you will have to stay here.”
“But what happened to letting me go on with my merr---“
“Once we get the card courier. Once we get the card.”
“Ugh, what?” I put my hand to my head and felt the large bump there. “Ow, what the blast?” I massaged the bump with careful precision.
“Ok, he’s awake. Open his eyes,” a gruff male voice reverberated in front of me. I realized that I was not lying down as I had thought, but sitting in a rough metal chair. I heard a whistling sound and a force hit my head with the strength of two comicins bull rushing me. My eyes shot open and a tooth went whizzing out of my mouth. I looked around for my attacker.
There were three people in the room. One, a man with a heavy scowl, was sitting just across a little table. One other, a brown haired girl, was standing right behind me. Third, a man with bright red hair and a bright red mustache, was standing behind the other man, like he was the other man’s bodyguard. I was chained to my chair by some cheap carbomateria rip-off, probably magnemateria.
“We have been waiting for you to wake up,” the scowling man said. “What did you do with that card?”
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” I lied through my teeth.
“Oh, I’m sure you don’t,” he laughed sarcastically. “Now, where is it?”
“I don’t know where it is,” I lied again. I didn’t want to Clari to be caught up in this.
“Yes. You do. We saw you go out of Sector 7 and into one of the other sectors. With a card that we were trying to steal. Those club hoppers you sold the Hydrospeed to? We were after them. We almost got the Hydrospeed too, but you showed up first. We had wanted to get their cards the easy way, but noooo! You had to show up and ruin the plan we have made for several months. It took us almost a year to get a member onto the trash control so he could send us that Hydrospeed. And you ruined it,” the scowling man rumbled and threw his hands around as he talked.
“Trash control?” I asked with curiosity.
The girl lounging behind me answered. “Flying garbage dumps that add to the trash of Sector 7. The other sectors don’t want it, so we get it, whether we like it or not. The general populace does not know of the trash control, so, keep it that way, ‘k?”
“Enough,” the scowling commanded. The girl fell silent immediately. “Just give us the card courier, and we will let go on with your merry life.”
“I don’t have it anymore sir,” I replied honestly.
“Then who does?” he asked, leaning in.
“A friend of mine. An Exiled,” I shamefacedly said those two sentences.
“Ok, Veronica, Sean, go get this Exiled,” the big one ordered. “Until your friend is brought in you will have to stay here.”
“But what happened to letting me go on with my merr---“
“Once we get the card courier. Once we get the card.”
Chapter 4
I waited in that room for the longest time. I could feel every second passing. I may have dozed off once or twice, but I couldn’t remember. I pulled and twisted the chains occasionally, testing their strength. They didn’t feel that strong. I hooked my hand around one of them and pulled hard. I broke with little effort. The other chain went the same way.
I got up and stretched, welcoming relief back into my limbs that were numb. I walked over to the door that was the exit and tried opening it.
It was locked. So typical.
I peered into the lock mechanism and saw it was a complicated clockwork mechanism. I knew I couldn’t break that so I let it be. I felt the other three walls to see if there was a secret door into this room. There was nothing. The walls seemed to be made of carbomateria though. True carbomateria. I walked over to the door and kicked the wall next to the mechanism. It cracked but did not break. I kicked it again and it smashed through. I peered into the hole and saw a large room with not many people in it. I reached through and unlocked the door. After that I opened it from my side and walked calmly out.
I got up and stretched, welcoming relief back into my limbs that were numb. I walked over to the door that was the exit and tried opening it.
It was locked. So typical.
I peered into the lock mechanism and saw it was a complicated clockwork mechanism. I knew I couldn’t break that so I let it be. I felt the other three walls to see if there was a secret door into this room. There was nothing. The walls seemed to be made of carbomateria though. True carbomateria. I walked over to the door and kicked the wall next to the mechanism. It cracked but did not break. I kicked it again and it smashed through. I peered into the hole and saw a large room with not many people in it. I reached through and unlocked the door. After that I opened it from my side and walked calmly out.
Chapter 4 Part 2
Nobody noticed me leaving the room. I looked at from the outside. It was a cube shaped room erected in the middle of some open space. I guess no room was good enough for them.
I calmly walked around the room chatting with various people. They had good notions, from what I heard. They were trying to bring equality to the city. For everyone to get a better chance at life. No more people just wandering aimlessly. No more feral ones attacking those that came near. Just peace and happiness for all. It sure sounded great, but I knew that the methods they were using were not the best.
I kept calmly walking through the building. I looked out a window the first chance I got. I looked at the street about five stories down. I thought I recognized the area, but what do I know? All the diagrams look practically the same. I walked down flight after flight of stairs. Many rebels were coming up and down the stairs at faster paces than me, but they didn’t spare me a second thought. Maybe they didn’t know what their leader was up to. Once I got to the bottom of the stairs, I saw Veronica and Sean walking back in with a bag shaped like a human. A short human. Oh, shit. They found Clari.
“Lemme go you rouhians! Let me go!” her voice was a little muffled, but it was Clari’s.
They walked towards the stairwell that I was hiding in. Of all the rotten luck!
I burst out of the stairwell and tackled Sean. He went down without any resistance, surprise coloring his face. Veronica reacted quickly pulling out her gun. I kicked at the weapon and it shot out of her hand. I leaped to grab it, slid into it, pulled it up and pointed it directly at her. She raised her hands up in defeat.
“Get Clari out of the bag Veronica,” I commanded keeping my gun trained on both of them. Sean was still trying to recatch his breath. Veronica reached down slowly towards the bag that held Clari and opened it and Clari tumbled out.
“Ow, what the hell is you guys problem?! Can’t you let an inventor work in peace!” she huffed and walked drunkenly over to me.
“What did you do to her?” I asked maliciously.
Veronica answered, “We gave her a shot of vodka from the Clubo Arcano. The stuff there lays people flat almost immediately. It was a lot easier to take her anywhere when she was in a drunken stupor.”
Clari made a face. “Oh shut up, bi--”
“CLARI! Don’t make this situation any worse than it is, ok?” I scolded.
“Fine. FINE! SIDE WITH THEM WHY DON’TCHA?! DON’T CARE ABOUT POOR LITTLE CLARI THAT HAS BEEN DRAGGED ACROSS DAMN SECTOR 7 JUST TO BE RESCUED BY SOME PUNK! I’M LEAVING!” with that she stormed out of the building, albeit drunkenly.
Sean looked up. “What just happened?” he asked inquisitively.
“She’s just drunk. She’ll be over it in a few hours. Now, what are you two going to do?” I pointed the gun directly at them again.
“We can’t report to Ralph without losing both you and the Exiled,” Veronica whined, looking at me with a pitiful expression. It made me want to gag.
“I’m not helping you. Not after what you did to me, and my friend. I’ll keep this, as a memento of our little escapade here.” I walked out of the building at that statement. I was a good two blocks away when I heard the shout.
“WAIT! Let us go with you!” Sean jogged after me. “We don’t want to talk to the boss, and we just want a better life for all of us. The boss is usually wrong about everything, even if we don’t tell him,” he explained, with Veronica jogging up behind him.
“He used to be the ultimate whitecarder,” Veronica explained. “Until his younger brother didn’t like his policies. This younger brother betrayed him and exiled him out here. Our boss is consumed by hatred for his brother now.”
“And we are kinda tired of being ordered around like little pawns,” Sean added. “We want to actually do something to help the people, not scare them.”
I listened with small interest, but fairly. I thought about letting them join. I saw that Veronica had a new gun in her holster on her hip. If they defected, that would be two less guns used to kill innocent people. But I wasn’t in the mood to help everyone. I just wanted a better life for me and my closest friends, I mean, friend.
I sighed with defeat. “Fine. Come with me. We’ll figure something out.” I started walking towards Diagram 72 again.
“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” Veronica squealed with glee and tackled me. Sean just looked at us and sighed.
“Get off me!” I shouted, pushing her away. “I said get off me!”
“Yes sir, right away sir!” she quickly jumped off of me and stepped away.
“No sirs. We are equal partners ok?” I said with a serious tone. “None of us is the leader. We all are. We make plans together, we execute them together, and we face the consequences together. Sound good?”
“Of course it sounds good…… ummm…. What is your name?” Sean asked with a sheepish grin on his face.
“Alfred. Alfred Younts, an Unlucky,” I curtly replied as I started walking back towards Clari’s garage, yet again. “What’s your full names?”
“I’m Sean Remdac. I am an Exiled from the restaurant district.”
“And I am the mysterious Veronica Bellaire, an ordinary Unlucky.”
“Well, our head of intelligence is named Clariia Yato. And with what you guys did to her earlier, she is going to be mighty pissed.”
------------------
I calmly walked around the room chatting with various people. They had good notions, from what I heard. They were trying to bring equality to the city. For everyone to get a better chance at life. No more people just wandering aimlessly. No more feral ones attacking those that came near. Just peace and happiness for all. It sure sounded great, but I knew that the methods they were using were not the best.
I kept calmly walking through the building. I looked out a window the first chance I got. I looked at the street about five stories down. I thought I recognized the area, but what do I know? All the diagrams look practically the same. I walked down flight after flight of stairs. Many rebels were coming up and down the stairs at faster paces than me, but they didn’t spare me a second thought. Maybe they didn’t know what their leader was up to. Once I got to the bottom of the stairs, I saw Veronica and Sean walking back in with a bag shaped like a human. A short human. Oh, shit. They found Clari.
“Lemme go you rouhians! Let me go!” her voice was a little muffled, but it was Clari’s.
They walked towards the stairwell that I was hiding in. Of all the rotten luck!
I burst out of the stairwell and tackled Sean. He went down without any resistance, surprise coloring his face. Veronica reacted quickly pulling out her gun. I kicked at the weapon and it shot out of her hand. I leaped to grab it, slid into it, pulled it up and pointed it directly at her. She raised her hands up in defeat.
“Get Clari out of the bag Veronica,” I commanded keeping my gun trained on both of them. Sean was still trying to recatch his breath. Veronica reached down slowly towards the bag that held Clari and opened it and Clari tumbled out.
“Ow, what the hell is you guys problem?! Can’t you let an inventor work in peace!” she huffed and walked drunkenly over to me.
“What did you do to her?” I asked maliciously.
Veronica answered, “We gave her a shot of vodka from the Clubo Arcano. The stuff there lays people flat almost immediately. It was a lot easier to take her anywhere when she was in a drunken stupor.”
Clari made a face. “Oh shut up, bi--”
“CLARI! Don’t make this situation any worse than it is, ok?” I scolded.
“Fine. FINE! SIDE WITH THEM WHY DON’TCHA?! DON’T CARE ABOUT POOR LITTLE CLARI THAT HAS BEEN DRAGGED ACROSS DAMN SECTOR 7 JUST TO BE RESCUED BY SOME PUNK! I’M LEAVING!” with that she stormed out of the building, albeit drunkenly.
Sean looked up. “What just happened?” he asked inquisitively.
“She’s just drunk. She’ll be over it in a few hours. Now, what are you two going to do?” I pointed the gun directly at them again.
“We can’t report to Ralph without losing both you and the Exiled,” Veronica whined, looking at me with a pitiful expression. It made me want to gag.
“I’m not helping you. Not after what you did to me, and my friend. I’ll keep this, as a memento of our little escapade here.” I walked out of the building at that statement. I was a good two blocks away when I heard the shout.
“WAIT! Let us go with you!” Sean jogged after me. “We don’t want to talk to the boss, and we just want a better life for all of us. The boss is usually wrong about everything, even if we don’t tell him,” he explained, with Veronica jogging up behind him.
“He used to be the ultimate whitecarder,” Veronica explained. “Until his younger brother didn’t like his policies. This younger brother betrayed him and exiled him out here. Our boss is consumed by hatred for his brother now.”
“And we are kinda tired of being ordered around like little pawns,” Sean added. “We want to actually do something to help the people, not scare them.”
I listened with small interest, but fairly. I thought about letting them join. I saw that Veronica had a new gun in her holster on her hip. If they defected, that would be two less guns used to kill innocent people. But I wasn’t in the mood to help everyone. I just wanted a better life for me and my closest friends, I mean, friend.
I sighed with defeat. “Fine. Come with me. We’ll figure something out.” I started walking towards Diagram 72 again.
“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” Veronica squealed with glee and tackled me. Sean just looked at us and sighed.
“Get off me!” I shouted, pushing her away. “I said get off me!”
“Yes sir, right away sir!” she quickly jumped off of me and stepped away.
“No sirs. We are equal partners ok?” I said with a serious tone. “None of us is the leader. We all are. We make plans together, we execute them together, and we face the consequences together. Sound good?”
“Of course it sounds good…… ummm…. What is your name?” Sean asked with a sheepish grin on his face.
“Alfred. Alfred Younts, an Unlucky,” I curtly replied as I started walking back towards Clari’s garage, yet again. “What’s your full names?”
“I’m Sean Remdac. I am an Exiled from the restaurant district.”
“And I am the mysterious Veronica Bellaire, an ordinary Unlucky.”
“Well, our head of intelligence is named Clariia Yato. And with what you guys did to her earlier, she is going to be mighty pissed.”
------------------
Well, I'm done. Good luck everyone!
Chapter 5
After a few hours of explaining how things worked in Clari and I’s little world, I cautiously maneuvered my way through her garage, Victoria and Sean following directly behind me, grunting and whining every step of the way.
“How does she expect anybody to get through here!” Veronic complained, tripping over a miscellaneous trinket.
I turned back to her and grinned wickedly. “Exactly.”
In all reality, I wondered that myself sometimes, but seeing as I was Clari’s only real friend, it seemed fitting for her anti-social self.
“But— OW!”
Just as we were nearly in sight of Clari’s workbench, Veronica tripped on something else, this time bringing a whole mountain of gadgets avalanching down on top of her. Sean then fell over the new pile of scraps and landed partially on top of Veronica, who, except for a few random strands of her brown hair and the black of her real comicin leather jeans, was completely hidden.
Sean grunted in pain, and Victoria moaned.
I suppressed a slight bit of laughter, but then realized that Clari was going to be even more pissed now that her “organized” mess was now “unorganized.”
“What the hell—” She started, popping up over yet another pile of items. She was wearing her ectosyn helmet that had various gadgets attached to all sides of it (to tell the truth it looked more like a swiss army knife that had been turned into an aviation helmet). “Oh, no! No! What the hell are they doing here, Younts?” She fumed, saying my name with the same amount of disgust as if I were a Feral.
I laughed a little awkwardly and tried to think of a quick excuse so that she wouldn’t kill me right on the spot.
“Ummm….” Oh shit. I couldn’t think of anything.
“Umm? That’s all you have to say? Why I oughta…” She stormed toward me angrily, a soldering pen in her right hand, a wrench in the other (the wrench was her. . . main weapon of choice).
Just as she stepped around the pile of gadgets, she fell over thin air and right into my arms.
“How’s that vodka been treating you?” I asked, a sarcastic grin on my face.
She frowned irritably and narrowed her piercing blue eyes at me.
“. . . Jerk. . .” she muttered as she stood up and jerked herself out of my grasp.
“How does she expect anybody to get through here!” Veronic complained, tripping over a miscellaneous trinket.
I turned back to her and grinned wickedly. “Exactly.”
In all reality, I wondered that myself sometimes, but seeing as I was Clari’s only real friend, it seemed fitting for her anti-social self.
“But— OW!”
Just as we were nearly in sight of Clari’s workbench, Veronica tripped on something else, this time bringing a whole mountain of gadgets avalanching down on top of her. Sean then fell over the new pile of scraps and landed partially on top of Veronica, who, except for a few random strands of her brown hair and the black of her real comicin leather jeans, was completely hidden.
Sean grunted in pain, and Victoria moaned.
I suppressed a slight bit of laughter, but then realized that Clari was going to be even more pissed now that her “organized” mess was now “unorganized.”
“What the hell—” She started, popping up over yet another pile of items. She was wearing her ectosyn helmet that had various gadgets attached to all sides of it (to tell the truth it looked more like a swiss army knife that had been turned into an aviation helmet). “Oh, no! No! What the hell are they doing here, Younts?” She fumed, saying my name with the same amount of disgust as if I were a Feral.
I laughed a little awkwardly and tried to think of a quick excuse so that she wouldn’t kill me right on the spot.
“Ummm….” Oh shit. I couldn’t think of anything.
“Umm? That’s all you have to say? Why I oughta…” She stormed toward me angrily, a soldering pen in her right hand, a wrench in the other (the wrench was her. . . main weapon of choice).
Just as she stepped around the pile of gadgets, she fell over thin air and right into my arms.
“How’s that vodka been treating you?” I asked, a sarcastic grin on my face.
She frowned irritably and narrowed her piercing blue eyes at me.
“. . . Jerk. . .” she muttered as she stood up and jerked herself out of my grasp.
Chapter 5 Part 2
By now, Sean had already helped Veronica out of the mountain of gadgets and dusted himself off.
“Man, this place is a wreck.”
Oh, crap.
“Excuse me? This “place” is not a “wreck.” This “place” is my garage and home!” As Clariia said this, she got closer and closer to Sean, as well as closer and closer to putting that wrench she still had in her grasp somewhere Sean did not want it.
Sean held his breath and through his hands up.
“Listen, I didn’t mean—”
“He didn’t mean to insult you,” Veronica said, stepping in between them after
shooting Sean a sharp look.
Clari might have been shorter than Veronica, but she was definitely more menacing.
She crossed her arms and stared Veronica down. “One more time, and I’m going to unscrew something so he can never screw something again.”
I bit my tongue and turned away. Geez, Clari. . .
“And you!”
I jerked around.
“Stop LAUGHING!” Clari shouted, pointed the wrench at me now.
She huffed angrily and stomped away toward her workbench.
When no one moved, she stopped, sighed, and shouted, “What? Are you idiots coming or not?”
I exchanged looks with Veronica and Sean, and led the way.
“Man, this place is a wreck.”
Oh, crap.
“Excuse me? This “place” is not a “wreck.” This “place” is my garage and home!” As Clariia said this, she got closer and closer to Sean, as well as closer and closer to putting that wrench she still had in her grasp somewhere Sean did not want it.
Sean held his breath and through his hands up.
“Listen, I didn’t mean—”
“He didn’t mean to insult you,” Veronica said, stepping in between them after
shooting Sean a sharp look.
Clari might have been shorter than Veronica, but she was definitely more menacing.
She crossed her arms and stared Veronica down. “One more time, and I’m going to unscrew something so he can never screw something again.”
I bit my tongue and turned away. Geez, Clari. . .
“And you!”
I jerked around.
“Stop LAUGHING!” Clari shouted, pointed the wrench at me now.
She huffed angrily and stomped away toward her workbench.
When no one moved, she stopped, sighed, and shouted, “What? Are you idiots coming or not?”
I exchanged looks with Veronica and Sean, and led the way.
Chapter 5 Part 3
We were now in Clari’s “living room” which was really more of another storage area than a living room. In one corner was another pile of random stuff, and in another was an old radio that Clari had hooked up to listen in on transmissions that were used between government employees, etc. The ceiling was like the rest of the building—a red colored tin and the walls and floors were made from pure concrete. Naturally the room would have been cold if it hadn’t of been for the simulation fireplace/heater Clari had invented from all of the scraps she collected.
She sat down on an overturned bucket that was placed beside the radio and leaned over, her arms resting on her knees, looking at me.
I took my usual spot on a rusted out chair that was the perfect distance from the heater to be comfortable. Victoria and Sean looked around with looks of disgust on their faces. This was no doubt what they were used to, especially since they had been working under Ralphonse III. Victoria took a seat on an overturned radiator and Sean leaned casually against the wall.
“What are they doing here and why did they kidnap me?” Clari asked me again.
I took a deep breath. Oh boy, she was not going to like this. I had been ganged up against by some thugs who wanted the purple card I had gotten and in result people were out to kill us.
“You know that purple card I got after I found that hydropeed in Diagram 18? Well, apparently—”
“Wait,” Clari said, standing. “You two go. We need to talk privately. Whatever you do: Do not. Touch. Anything.”Veronica and Sean looked at each other and slowing got and left the room.
Clari slid a piece of material in place to create a division between her workshop and living room.
She sat down on an overturned bucket that was placed beside the radio and leaned over, her arms resting on her knees, looking at me.
I took my usual spot on a rusted out chair that was the perfect distance from the heater to be comfortable. Victoria and Sean looked around with looks of disgust on their faces. This was no doubt what they were used to, especially since they had been working under Ralphonse III. Victoria took a seat on an overturned radiator and Sean leaned casually against the wall.
“What are they doing here and why did they kidnap me?” Clari asked me again.
I took a deep breath. Oh boy, she was not going to like this. I had been ganged up against by some thugs who wanted the purple card I had gotten and in result people were out to kill us.
“You know that purple card I got after I found that hydropeed in Diagram 18? Well, apparently—”
“Wait,” Clari said, standing. “You two go. We need to talk privately. Whatever you do: Do not. Touch. Anything.”Veronica and Sean looked at each other and slowing got and left the room.
Clari slid a piece of material in place to create a division between her workshop and living room.
Chapter 5 Part 4
Before she sat back down on her bucket, she hit me upside the head.
“Ow! What was that for?!” I asked, massaging the back of my head.
“You, idiot! What are they doing here?” she whispered loudly. “They kidnapped me and now they’re standing in the middle of my garage?! What the hell were you thinking?”
“They asked if they could join us and help out. They said—”
“What they said doesn’t matter! They could be spies! What if they just said that crap to find out where our main system of operation is?”
I brought my palm to my face and thought hard. Crap. I didn’t think of that. If that was the case, then we were screwed. I had already explained how Clariia and I worked together and had shown them where we work. If Clari knew all that. . . Wait a second. . .
“What if we could use them—and their cards—to our advantage?” I thought out loud.
Clari’s face suddenly resembled the clockwork I had seen in the bathroom earlier—a weird comparison I know, but true. It was as if the wheels behind those blue eyes started turning as if she were working on one of her inventions.
“True. . . I see where your going with this. . . But what if they bust us before we can make any worth while plans?”
I frowned and stared at a chemical stain on the floor, a stain that had been the result of one of Clari’s experiments long ago. She had thought she’d known what she was doing, but obviously didn’t. Otherwise, there wouldn’t have been a lime green stain on the cement beneath our feet.
“If they are spies, then they want something—and probably something bigger than a measly purple car—from us. We need to watch them and see if they slip up. . . leave any,” I thought, still staring at the spot on the floor, “stains behind them.”
Clari nodded her head and smiled menacingly. “I like it.”
I frowned. “First things first: Did they get ahold of the card?”
Clari smiled bigger and shook her head, pointing silently toward the radio. She then mouthed the word “hidden.”
“Time to listen to the music and follow after where ever it leads us,” I said, smiling at my pun.
This was going to be fun.
“Ow! What was that for?!” I asked, massaging the back of my head.
“You, idiot! What are they doing here?” she whispered loudly. “They kidnapped me and now they’re standing in the middle of my garage?! What the hell were you thinking?”
“They asked if they could join us and help out. They said—”
“What they said doesn’t matter! They could be spies! What if they just said that crap to find out where our main system of operation is?”
I brought my palm to my face and thought hard. Crap. I didn’t think of that. If that was the case, then we were screwed. I had already explained how Clariia and I worked together and had shown them where we work. If Clari knew all that. . . Wait a second. . .
“What if we could use them—and their cards—to our advantage?” I thought out loud.
Clari’s face suddenly resembled the clockwork I had seen in the bathroom earlier—a weird comparison I know, but true. It was as if the wheels behind those blue eyes started turning as if she were working on one of her inventions.
“True. . . I see where your going with this. . . But what if they bust us before we can make any worth while plans?”
I frowned and stared at a chemical stain on the floor, a stain that had been the result of one of Clari’s experiments long ago. She had thought she’d known what she was doing, but obviously didn’t. Otherwise, there wouldn’t have been a lime green stain on the cement beneath our feet.
“If they are spies, then they want something—and probably something bigger than a measly purple car—from us. We need to watch them and see if they slip up. . . leave any,” I thought, still staring at the spot on the floor, “stains behind them.”
Clari nodded her head and smiled menacingly. “I like it.”
I frowned. “First things first: Did they get ahold of the card?”
Clari smiled bigger and shook her head, pointing silently toward the radio. She then mouthed the word “hidden.”
“Time to listen to the music and follow after where ever it leads us,” I said, smiling at my pun.
This was going to be fun.
Chapter 6
"They're good," Clari said. "But we'll catch 'em."
I sighed, staring up at the ceiling of the room we'd first discussed our plan to figure out what they were up to. For a week, Clari and I had been watching the two "spies" like hawks, and they hadn't shown any sign of wanting something from us. Besides, although I wasn't going to admit it to Clari, I was really staring to like them.
"Maybe we're over thinking it," she continued.
"Mabye…" I mumbled, skeptical. "Although I think bugging their rooms would've covered pretty much everything."
Yes, Clariia had actually bugged their rooms, and it had been all I could do to keep her from doing the same to their clothing. My final argument had been, "They'd notice if there were microphones on their clothing." Still, she'd demanded that we settle it with a good, old-fashioned coin-toss, which I'd thankfully won.
Clari shot a glare towards me. "Don't mock me."
"I wasn't mocking you."
"Whatever."
We sat in an awkward silence for about thirty seconds, completely stumped, before we heard the clattering of gadgets falling to the floor from the front of the garage. While Sean had gotten the hang of navigating the mess, Victoria was still prone to tripping over everything.
After a while, her smiling face came into view. "Hi, guys!"
Clari glared at her. She'd taken a particular disliking to Victoria, it seemed.
I looked around for Sean's shocking red hair, but I couldn't find him anywhere.
As if reading my mind, Victoria answered my unspoken question. "Sean's not feeling well today. I was wondering if you guys had anything that might help a tummy-ache."
"I'm an inventor, not a doctor," Clari retorted.
Victoria shrugged. "I just asked. Well, I'd better go, then."
"Yes, yes you should," Clari whispered, too quiet for Victoria to hear. I smiled. Clari could be entertaining when her wrath was not directed toward you.
"Bye," I said.
With that, Victoria disappeared, her departure accompanied by the sound of piles of gadgets and gizmos being knocked over.
Chapter 6 Part 2
Once Victoria was gone, I turned to Clari, expecting her to say something along the lines of having to clean up her garage. However, instead of her usual grumpy expression, she wore a grin on her face.
"What are you thinking?" I asked, scared of the answer.
Her jaw dropped. "You can't possibly tell me that you don't think that Sean getting sick over night isn't suspicious?"
I gave her a quizzical look. "That's how it usually happens…"
"Irrelevant. Look, we've gotta check it out!"
"And that behavior won't make them suspect anything," I said, giving my voice a nice, thick coating of sarcasm.
"We'll just tell them… We're checking up on Sean. He's sick. It's normal behavior."
I had to admit, it was sound logic. I gave in. "Well… might as well. Nothing to loose."
We set out to the once-abandoned place Sean and Victoria were staying at. It wasn't in any way nice, but that was to be expected. It was Sector 7, after all.
I knocked on the door, and as I did so, I could see three cockroaches scuttling away. I gagged, feeling sorry for those two. Even I didn't have vermin in my house.
We waited for the door to be answered, but no one opened it. Odd. The apartment was so small. Surely they would've heard it.
Chapter 6 Part 4
"You, girl. You make things, right? Can you make something for me?"
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"Never in a million years!" Clari spat at the man in front of us.
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"That's too bad. Victoria, the boy. Don't get distracted."
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"Yes, sir!" Victoria turned her attention back to me, watching me closely to make sure I wasn't doing anything funky.
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"You sure do like knocking us unconscious, don't you?" I asked. It was a genuine concern. They'd been using the same method over and over and over. It was starting to get predictable.
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"Quiet, boy!" the man yelled at us. He was the one who I'd seen Sean protecting like a bodyguard the first time they'd taken me away.
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Victoria pulled out what looked like a roll of scotch tape.
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I rolled my eyes. "Come on, you know that doesn't actually work, right?"
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"This isn't regular tape," she said. She tore a strip of the substance off, then placed it on my mouth.
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It wasn't regular tape. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't speak.
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"Now," the man continued. "I'd like you to make something for me. You've made one similar to it once before…"
Chapter 6 Part 3
Clari glanced at me, shrugged, then proceeded to open the door.
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As we came to the room that Sean had claimed, we could hear someone that wasn't Sean talking. However, the words couldn't be made out.
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I looked to Clari for guidance. She mouthed the words, "Let's go in."
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As I opened the door, the voice stopped immediately. Before it was even opened all the way, a bullet flew through the half-rotten wood, just to the left of my head.
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I slammed the door open, reached for the gun I'd relieved from Victoria.
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Inside the room was a sight I hadn't expected to see. Sean was tied to a chair, eyes wide. Victoria stood to my right, and their boss stood directly in front of me, his mouth pulled into a sharp frown.
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Before my mind could process anything else, I saw Clari fall to the floor, Victoria standing next to her. Suddenly, there was a sharp pain on the back of my head, and I joined Clari on the floor, unconscious.
Chapter 7
I felt myself rising slowly from the dark recesses of my mind and back into the land of the waking. I sat up as soon as my vision returned. My head suddenly throbbed and I flopped back to the floor, sqeezing my eyes shut.
"Ow..." I clutched my head.
"Alfred? Are you awake?"
I opened my eyes slowly and looked toward the speaker.
Sean was still tied to the chair, except he looked a lot worse than the first time I'd seen him there.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"No," I muttered sitting up slowly.
I took a closer look at him. Both of his eyes were blackened and he had a thin trail of dried blood leading down his face from his nose.
"What happened?" I asked groggily.
"They beat me up, but...they didn't kill me," Sean seemed confused.
I really couldn't care less about their reasons for not killing him. Veronica had actually been a spy, Clari had been right.
Clari!
I frantically searched the room.
"Clari!" I yelled, ignoring the pain it caused, "Clari, where are you?"
"They took her. Veronica and Ralph took her. I couldn't do anything about it. I'm sorry, Alfred,"
Well, that's just great! I thought, Clari's gone, she had the card so the card's gone...
"What're we gonna do?" I muttered, laying back down.
Sean was silent for a few moments.
"You're giving up?" he finally asked.
I looked at him from my place on the floor.
"What am I gonna do? I'm just one person..."
"Two," he interrupted.
"What?"
"Two, I'm with you," he smiled.
It was kinda painful to see.
"Okay, fine, two. We're just two people. They have us out gunned, out numbered, and they took Clari, who was the only person who knows how to make anything of use!"
Sean stared at me as if I'd just grown a second and then a third head.
"Do you have any idea what will happen with that card?"
"No, not really," I sighed.
"The rebels will have access to sector five. I know for a fact that Ralph has contacts there. There'll be a war very soon unless we do something,"
"What the heck are we gonna do!?" I yelled.
"We're gonna rally the people who are sick of being trampled on and revolt! That's what we're gonna do!" Sean yelled back.
I blinked in surprise.
"Ow..." I clutched my head.
"Alfred? Are you awake?"
I opened my eyes slowly and looked toward the speaker.
Sean was still tied to the chair, except he looked a lot worse than the first time I'd seen him there.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"No," I muttered sitting up slowly.
I took a closer look at him. Both of his eyes were blackened and he had a thin trail of dried blood leading down his face from his nose.
"What happened?" I asked groggily.
"They beat me up, but...they didn't kill me," Sean seemed confused.
I really couldn't care less about their reasons for not killing him. Veronica had actually been a spy, Clari had been right.
Clari!
I frantically searched the room.
"Clari!" I yelled, ignoring the pain it caused, "Clari, where are you?"
"They took her. Veronica and Ralph took her. I couldn't do anything about it. I'm sorry, Alfred,"
Well, that's just great! I thought, Clari's gone, she had the card so the card's gone...
"What're we gonna do?" I muttered, laying back down.
Sean was silent for a few moments.
"You're giving up?" he finally asked.
I looked at him from my place on the floor.
"What am I gonna do? I'm just one person..."
"Two," he interrupted.
"What?"
"Two, I'm with you," he smiled.
It was kinda painful to see.
"Okay, fine, two. We're just two people. They have us out gunned, out numbered, and they took Clari, who was the only person who knows how to make anything of use!"
Sean stared at me as if I'd just grown a second and then a third head.
"Do you have any idea what will happen with that card?"
"No, not really," I sighed.
"The rebels will have access to sector five. I know for a fact that Ralph has contacts there. There'll be a war very soon unless we do something,"
"What the heck are we gonna do!?" I yelled.
"We're gonna rally the people who are sick of being trampled on and revolt! That's what we're gonna do!" Sean yelled back.
I blinked in surprise.
Chapter 7 part two
"You mean, gather an army?"
The fire in Sean's eyes was really beginning to freak me out.
"Exactly,"
It was my turn to stare.
"Are you nuts? Who the heck will listen to us? We're just two guys from sector seven. And then, even if they do listen, how are we gonna fight? We've got..." I pulled out the gun I'd taken from Veronica, "one gun,"
"I know where the warehouses are. I can arm us. We just need to gather the army,"
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Gather an army? Mount a full scale revolution against both the rebels and the government? I stared at the floor.
Sounded like a big job with a small chance of survival. Well, what were we waiting for? It was either this crazy plan or just being scum for the rest of our lives.
"Alright, let's go," I sighed.
I untied Sean and we went into Clari's shop. Everything was a mess. The piles of clockwork had been scattered across the floor. It was impossible to walk without stepping on somthing.
We picked our way across the room and arrived at Clari's work table. I cleared away her plans for some odd-looking gadgets and rolled out a less than fresh blank peice of paper.
"So what's our plan?" I asked.
Sean rubbed the back of his neck.
"Well, I was kind of hoping that you knew," he muttered.
I looked at him.
"Seriously?" I asked, "You give this big speech that gets me all phyced for this and now you're out of steam?"
"Yeah,"
I muttered to myself before thinking hard.
We could put signs up...but then the rebels and government would be onto our plan. We could talk to some other couriers and ask them to spread the word...but some of them were kind of loose-lipped. We could...
"Gahh!"
The yell was followed by a crash.
"What the...?" Sean spun around.
"Help," a voice whined.
We exchanged a glance before picking our way to the source of the voice.
The fire in Sean's eyes was really beginning to freak me out.
"Exactly,"
It was my turn to stare.
"Are you nuts? Who the heck will listen to us? We're just two guys from sector seven. And then, even if they do listen, how are we gonna fight? We've got..." I pulled out the gun I'd taken from Veronica, "one gun,"
"I know where the warehouses are. I can arm us. We just need to gather the army,"
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Gather an army? Mount a full scale revolution against both the rebels and the government? I stared at the floor.
Sounded like a big job with a small chance of survival. Well, what were we waiting for? It was either this crazy plan or just being scum for the rest of our lives.
"Alright, let's go," I sighed.
I untied Sean and we went into Clari's shop. Everything was a mess. The piles of clockwork had been scattered across the floor. It was impossible to walk without stepping on somthing.
We picked our way across the room and arrived at Clari's work table. I cleared away her plans for some odd-looking gadgets and rolled out a less than fresh blank peice of paper.
"So what's our plan?" I asked.
Sean rubbed the back of his neck.
"Well, I was kind of hoping that you knew," he muttered.
I looked at him.
"Seriously?" I asked, "You give this big speech that gets me all phyced for this and now you're out of steam?"
"Yeah,"
I muttered to myself before thinking hard.
We could put signs up...but then the rebels and government would be onto our plan. We could talk to some other couriers and ask them to spread the word...but some of them were kind of loose-lipped. We could...
"Gahh!"
The yell was followed by a crash.
"What the...?" Sean spun around.
"Help," a voice whined.
We exchanged a glance before picking our way to the source of the voice.
Chapter 7 part three
I arrived first. All I really saw was a pale hand sticking out of a pile of gears.
"Help," the voice was coming from under the pile.
I took the hand and pulled.
This kid came up out of the pile like something crawling out of the grave. He looked like something crawling out of a grave too.
He was really pale and skinny. His eyes were too bright for his pale skin. He had almost no muscle on his body. When he saw me, he flinched back and cowered.
"Don't h-h-hurt me," he whimpered, "I j-j-just wan-n-na see C-Clari."
Sean stepped up behind me and examined the kid.
"Uh, Clari's not here," I said, "Can I take a message?"
He shook his head.
"N-no, I had to see her today. I'll be going now,"
He turned and promptly fell into the same pile of gears.
"Ow,"
Sean elbowed me.
"Hey, this could be our first recruit," he whispered.
"What, this thing?" I whispered back in disbelief, "He can't control his own feet, much less a weapon,"
Sean gave me a look. I sighed.
"Fine,"
I helped bag 'o bones up again.
"Hey, kid, what's your name?"
"Desmond," he murmured.
I looked back at Sean.
"He say's his name's Desmond,"
Sean scowled at me. I shrugged and mouthed 'what?' before turning back to Desmond.
"Uh, we're friend's of Clari's and we'd, uh, like to ask you something,"
I don't know how it was possible, but Desmond got paler.
"What d-do you w-want?"
Oh, geez, this was embaressing.
"Do you want to join our cause?"
Sean sighed.
"What cause?" Desmond squeeked, his eyes just about bugging out of his head.
"We, uh, want to stand up to the government and the rebellion,"
Desmond stared at me.
"How?" he asked.
"We were just getting to that when you walked in,"
"Help," the voice was coming from under the pile.
I took the hand and pulled.
This kid came up out of the pile like something crawling out of the grave. He looked like something crawling out of a grave too.
He was really pale and skinny. His eyes were too bright for his pale skin. He had almost no muscle on his body. When he saw me, he flinched back and cowered.
"Don't h-h-hurt me," he whimpered, "I j-j-just wan-n-na see C-Clari."
Sean stepped up behind me and examined the kid.
"Uh, Clari's not here," I said, "Can I take a message?"
He shook his head.
"N-no, I had to see her today. I'll be going now,"
He turned and promptly fell into the same pile of gears.
"Ow,"
Sean elbowed me.
"Hey, this could be our first recruit," he whispered.
"What, this thing?" I whispered back in disbelief, "He can't control his own feet, much less a weapon,"
Sean gave me a look. I sighed.
"Fine,"
I helped bag 'o bones up again.
"Hey, kid, what's your name?"
"Desmond," he murmured.
I looked back at Sean.
"He say's his name's Desmond,"
Sean scowled at me. I shrugged and mouthed 'what?' before turning back to Desmond.
"Uh, we're friend's of Clari's and we'd, uh, like to ask you something,"
I don't know how it was possible, but Desmond got paler.
"What d-do you w-want?"
Oh, geez, this was embaressing.
"Do you want to join our cause?"
Sean sighed.
"What cause?" Desmond squeeked, his eyes just about bugging out of his head.
"We, uh, want to stand up to the government and the rebellion,"
Desmond stared at me.
"How?" he asked.
"We were just getting to that when you walked in,"
Chapter 8
We had gone back to the table and begun to plan again. Desmond wasn't much help. I guessed him at around thirteen. He mainly sat on the floor and stared at us.
"Where's Clari?" he finally asked.
I felt something in me stop. It was like when the inside of a clock stops ticking. The fact was, I didn't know where she was.
"Uh, she got...kidnapped..." I replied.
Desmond gasped.
"By who?" he squeaked.
"Bad guys. Really bad guys," I said.
Sean continued to write ideas on the paper.
"Why aren't you guys trying to get her back?" Desmond cried.
Sean and I looked at each other for a moment.
"We can't with just the two of us," he said.
"I'll help!" Desmond scrambled to his feet, "I'll help save Clari!"
"The three of us can't do it either,"
"Why not? You guys look tough,"
I took a deep breath.
"Clari was kidnapped by the rebels,"
Desmond's mouth dropped open and he stared at me with his too bright eyes.
There were a few minutes of silence.
"But...I owe Clari. I've gotta save her," he said finally.
This interested me.
"How do you owe her?" I asked.
"She saved my life. I got too close to one of the Ferals and she got me away before it could kill me,"
I blinked in surprise. I'd know Clari was tough, but to save a kid from a feral was...huh.
"Well, she's my best friend, so I want her back too, but we can't just charge in. We need a plan,"
"It would be coming along much better if you were helping out," Sean muttered, not looking up.
I ignored him. Part of the plan he wanted was forming in my mind. Clari had always been tinkering, but I'd never tried to figure out what she was making.
"Hey, did you come in here often?" I asked Desmond.
"Uh-huh, about once a week,"
"Did Clari ever show you anything, uh, 'special'?"
Desmond's eyes bugged again and his mouth clamped shut.
I sighed in relief.
"It's okay, you can tell me," I said.
"B-but, I promised Clari," he squeaked.
His skinny neck was trying to disappear into his too-big shirt.
I decided that I had to be mean to the kid.
"If you don't tell me, we can't save Clari," I said.
Desmond gave a strangled gasp and his eyes just about popped out of their sockets.
"Okay," he whispered, "I'll show you,"
"Where's Clari?" he finally asked.
I felt something in me stop. It was like when the inside of a clock stops ticking. The fact was, I didn't know where she was.
"Uh, she got...kidnapped..." I replied.
Desmond gasped.
"By who?" he squeaked.
"Bad guys. Really bad guys," I said.
Sean continued to write ideas on the paper.
"Why aren't you guys trying to get her back?" Desmond cried.
Sean and I looked at each other for a moment.
"We can't with just the two of us," he said.
"I'll help!" Desmond scrambled to his feet, "I'll help save Clari!"
"The three of us can't do it either,"
"Why not? You guys look tough,"
I took a deep breath.
"Clari was kidnapped by the rebels,"
Desmond's mouth dropped open and he stared at me with his too bright eyes.
There were a few minutes of silence.
"But...I owe Clari. I've gotta save her," he said finally.
This interested me.
"How do you owe her?" I asked.
"She saved my life. I got too close to one of the Ferals and she got me away before it could kill me,"
I blinked in surprise. I'd know Clari was tough, but to save a kid from a feral was...huh.
"Well, she's my best friend, so I want her back too, but we can't just charge in. We need a plan,"
"It would be coming along much better if you were helping out," Sean muttered, not looking up.
I ignored him. Part of the plan he wanted was forming in my mind. Clari had always been tinkering, but I'd never tried to figure out what she was making.
"Hey, did you come in here often?" I asked Desmond.
"Uh-huh, about once a week,"
"Did Clari ever show you anything, uh, 'special'?"
Desmond's eyes bugged again and his mouth clamped shut.
I sighed in relief.
"It's okay, you can tell me," I said.
"B-but, I promised Clari," he squeaked.
His skinny neck was trying to disappear into his too-big shirt.
I decided that I had to be mean to the kid.
"If you don't tell me, we can't save Clari," I said.
Desmond gave a strangled gasp and his eyes just about popped out of their sockets.
"Okay," he whispered, "I'll show you,"
Chapter 8 part two
Desmond led Sean and I to a door that was marked 'DO NOT ENTER' in big, red letters.
"In there," he whispered, "All her projects that worked out fine are in there,"
I pushed at the door and found it locked. The lock was simple and I simply had to pick it open with a screwdriver.
Inside was the biggest collection of working gismos I'd ever seen. Clari had divided them up onto shelves. On top of each pile, was the plan for the gear. We began to dig eagerly through each pile. The one I started with was full of small clockwork objects. I looked at the plans and saw that they fit into a person's ear and were supposed to clack when the wall trollies passed by. The second had only a single object: a large thing with pedels.
Sean came to stand by me and whistled when he saw the thing.
"How'd she manage to get the parts for one of those?" he said, stepping closer.
"What is it?" I asked.
"It's a bipedel. They use these to get around in some of the other disticts. It's a lot faster than walking,"
There was a crash and a shout.
"I'm okay!"
We turned to see Desmond on top of what used to be the interior of some vehical.
"Ok, so, we have a bipedel and means of detecting the wall trollies. What if, when we finally get some followers from sector 7, we climb over the wall when the trolly isn't there and get followers from other disticts?"
Sean nodded, thinking to himself.
"I know this guy who used to be on the police force. He defected and they shipped him out here. He'll probably help us, and he knows how the police work,"
"Yeah, if we could find him..." I felt adrenaline running through me.
I felt daring. It didn't even seem possible to do what we were planning, but we were gonna try.
"H-hey guys, do you know what time it is?" Desmond asked, slowly walking over to us.
I looked around. The only window in the room showed that it was well after dark. I felt a shock. I'd been out for a long time and then I'd gotten wrapped up in planning...
"We should get some rest, it's been a long day. Besides, we're running out of ideas, maybe we can dream up a few after a good night's rest," Sean suggested.
I nodded.
It didn't feel right to consider sleeping now. Clari probably wasn't sleeping. Well, maybe she was, but it probably wasn't the kind where you just lay down because you're tired.
We left the room and locked the doors behind us. We left Clari's workshop. Desmond said a hasty goodbye and ran off into the night. I couldn't really return to my apartment, Ralph knew where it was. I'd been jumping from place to place for the last week, but I was running out of places to stay.
'You got somewhere to go tonight?" Sean asked.
I shrugged and shook my head.
"No, but I'll figure something out,"
"Why don't we just take that abandoned living unit across the street?" he asked, gesturing.
I looked at it.
The windows had been broken and the walls were in bad shape.
"Uh, why don't we just stay in the shop since we're kind of out of options?" I suggested instead.
Sean shrugged.
"Sure, we can try to find somewhere to sleep in there,"
We returned to the shop and hoped that we'd make it through the night without encounter.
"In there," he whispered, "All her projects that worked out fine are in there,"
I pushed at the door and found it locked. The lock was simple and I simply had to pick it open with a screwdriver.
Inside was the biggest collection of working gismos I'd ever seen. Clari had divided them up onto shelves. On top of each pile, was the plan for the gear. We began to dig eagerly through each pile. The one I started with was full of small clockwork objects. I looked at the plans and saw that they fit into a person's ear and were supposed to clack when the wall trollies passed by. The second had only a single object: a large thing with pedels.
Sean came to stand by me and whistled when he saw the thing.
"How'd she manage to get the parts for one of those?" he said, stepping closer.
"What is it?" I asked.
"It's a bipedel. They use these to get around in some of the other disticts. It's a lot faster than walking,"
There was a crash and a shout.
"I'm okay!"
We turned to see Desmond on top of what used to be the interior of some vehical.
"Ok, so, we have a bipedel and means of detecting the wall trollies. What if, when we finally get some followers from sector 7, we climb over the wall when the trolly isn't there and get followers from other disticts?"
Sean nodded, thinking to himself.
"I know this guy who used to be on the police force. He defected and they shipped him out here. He'll probably help us, and he knows how the police work,"
"Yeah, if we could find him..." I felt adrenaline running through me.
I felt daring. It didn't even seem possible to do what we were planning, but we were gonna try.
"H-hey guys, do you know what time it is?" Desmond asked, slowly walking over to us.
I looked around. The only window in the room showed that it was well after dark. I felt a shock. I'd been out for a long time and then I'd gotten wrapped up in planning...
"We should get some rest, it's been a long day. Besides, we're running out of ideas, maybe we can dream up a few after a good night's rest," Sean suggested.
I nodded.
It didn't feel right to consider sleeping now. Clari probably wasn't sleeping. Well, maybe she was, but it probably wasn't the kind where you just lay down because you're tired.
We left the room and locked the doors behind us. We left Clari's workshop. Desmond said a hasty goodbye and ran off into the night. I couldn't really return to my apartment, Ralph knew where it was. I'd been jumping from place to place for the last week, but I was running out of places to stay.
'You got somewhere to go tonight?" Sean asked.
I shrugged and shook my head.
"No, but I'll figure something out,"
"Why don't we just take that abandoned living unit across the street?" he asked, gesturing.
I looked at it.
The windows had been broken and the walls were in bad shape.
"Uh, why don't we just stay in the shop since we're kind of out of options?" I suggested instead.
Sean shrugged.
"Sure, we can try to find somewhere to sleep in there,"
We returned to the shop and hoped that we'd make it through the night without encounter.
Chapter 9
I was jarred awake by the brash blaring of some unknown device. “What the…” I said aloud as my hand frantically searched to cease the sound. I had a headache like a herd of comicin were running through my brain, and I was practically blind without my glasses. Glasses?
“Dear, are you up?” I heard a voice call from some distance. “You have school.”
Just kidding:)
“Dear, are you up?” I heard a voice call from some distance. “You have school.”
Just kidding:)
Chapter 9
Sometime during the night I became aware of a low, almost rumbling noise. It was soothing, yet as I became half-consciously listened to it, I knew I needed to wake up. Finally, like a drunk man coming out of his stupor, I opened my eyes. A number of things happened all at the same time. First, I realized the sound was Clari's radio. Also, if the radio was on, then someone had turned it on.
"Holy Comicin! I'm a complete moron!" I yelled.
Forgetting that I'd just put together that if the radio was on, someone must have turned it on and that that someone was likely still here. And not caring that Sean was sleeping somewhere near me, I raced to the radio and started hunting. That knock on my head from Veronica or losing Clari or Sean's planning or meeting Desmond or maybe just that I didn't always pay attention to what Clari was saying because I didn't understand half of it had completely obliterated the image that now burned into my brain. Clari sitting on her overturned bucket next to the radio and mouthing, "hidden" as she pointed to the radio.
When I reached the radio I found no one, but it was running. As I inspected the area I found what looked like a pocket watch, but must have been some sort of timer. The more I found in Clari's garage the more I thought I really didn't know her very well. She is really a genius!
It took me only a few minutes to find what I'd been looking for- the card. Clari didn't have it on her; she'd hidden it. That thought took me back a little. I crouched in the darkness in front of the radio and let myself think.
Ever since I'd woken up in Sean's apartment to find Clari gone, I'd been too busy trying to act to actually stop and think. It's like I got into 'raise an army and start a real rebellion' mode that I couldn't see the bigger picture.
As I squatted in the darkness, I became aware of Sean standing in the opening to the room.
Well, I might as well run these ideas out loud, I thought.
"Holy Comicin! I'm a complete moron!" I yelled.
Forgetting that I'd just put together that if the radio was on, someone must have turned it on and that that someone was likely still here. And not caring that Sean was sleeping somewhere near me, I raced to the radio and started hunting. That knock on my head from Veronica or losing Clari or Sean's planning or meeting Desmond or maybe just that I didn't always pay attention to what Clari was saying because I didn't understand half of it had completely obliterated the image that now burned into my brain. Clari sitting on her overturned bucket next to the radio and mouthing, "hidden" as she pointed to the radio.
When I reached the radio I found no one, but it was running. As I inspected the area I found what looked like a pocket watch, but must have been some sort of timer. The more I found in Clari's garage the more I thought I really didn't know her very well. She is really a genius!
It took me only a few minutes to find what I'd been looking for- the card. Clari didn't have it on her; she'd hidden it. That thought took me back a little. I crouched in the darkness in front of the radio and let myself think.
Ever since I'd woken up in Sean's apartment to find Clari gone, I'd been too busy trying to act to actually stop and think. It's like I got into 'raise an army and start a real rebellion' mode that I couldn't see the bigger picture.
As I squatted in the darkness, I became aware of Sean standing in the opening to the room.
Well, I might as well run these ideas out loud, I thought.
Chapter 9 part 2
"Sean, I think we're missing something- I'm missing something."
" Oh, by the way, I've got the card." I said, sounding like the punk I am.
"What? Where was it?" Sean asked in wonder.
"Clari hid it, and she told me about it. Can you believe I forgot such a 'small' detail? She's always calling me an idiot. Guess I proved her right. Anyway, I don't think any of this- you know with Ralph and Veronica- is about this card. Don't the rebels have cards or at least access to them, especially purples?" I waited for Sean to answer. He was just looking at me like I'd said the most stupid thing in the world.
"Of course, they have cards. They never wanted your card. Didn't you wonder why ralph never came after you, why he left you alive, why he's not here trying to catch us? He wanted Clari. It's always been about Clari. I was never in on the planning, so I never really understood what he wanted with her until I saw all of this." He said gesturing around to the gadgets and inventions in the shop.
"She must be some kind of genius!" He added with admiration.
"Yeah, she is." I replied, surprised at the pride I took in my words.
All of a sudden my mind was bombarded with thoughts and memories of Clari. They seemed to fall on me, crushing me. All the times she's called me an idiot, all the times I'd annoyed her while she tried to work, all the hints she'd given me about where to find good junk. All that time she'd kept a lot of her life secret from me. I didn't know about the 'keep out' room or about Desmond. What else didn't I know? If I'd been alone I may have teared up, instead I hung my head into my hands and breathed in- too deeply. I think Sean knew.
" Oh, by the way, I've got the card." I said, sounding like the punk I am.
"What? Where was it?" Sean asked in wonder.
"Clari hid it, and she told me about it. Can you believe I forgot such a 'small' detail? She's always calling me an idiot. Guess I proved her right. Anyway, I don't think any of this- you know with Ralph and Veronica- is about this card. Don't the rebels have cards or at least access to them, especially purples?" I waited for Sean to answer. He was just looking at me like I'd said the most stupid thing in the world.
"Of course, they have cards. They never wanted your card. Didn't you wonder why ralph never came after you, why he left you alive, why he's not here trying to catch us? He wanted Clari. It's always been about Clari. I was never in on the planning, so I never really understood what he wanted with her until I saw all of this." He said gesturing around to the gadgets and inventions in the shop.
"She must be some kind of genius!" He added with admiration.
"Yeah, she is." I replied, surprised at the pride I took in my words.
All of a sudden my mind was bombarded with thoughts and memories of Clari. They seemed to fall on me, crushing me. All the times she's called me an idiot, all the times I'd annoyed her while she tried to work, all the hints she'd given me about where to find good junk. All that time she'd kept a lot of her life secret from me. I didn't know about the 'keep out' room or about Desmond. What else didn't I know? If I'd been alone I may have teared up, instead I hung my head into my hands and breathed in- too deeply. I think Sean knew.
Chapter 10
Sean and I talked through the night about what needed to be done. It was only ideas, but it was a start. He'd seen first-hand what Ralph and his rebels had in mind. It had only been a few years since Ralph had been displaced as the whitecarder, and things had been bad in Jiopharen for more than a few years.
"So," Sean continued, "what choice do we have? Trade one bad whitecarder for another one. They're really the same as far as we're all concerned. Life will be the same for us no matter who's in charge."
Suddenly, my mind exploded, and I was filled with energy, angry energy, and I aimed it all at Sean. “You’re right, Sean!” I screamed. “You said it yourself. We are outgunned, outmanned, and out-teched; but we knew all that and still recruited Desmond and talked about gathering an army. Now...now what do we do?”
I grabbed Sean by the front of his shirt with both hands, meaning to…I don’t know what I intended. I just shoved him back, causing the pile of gadgets behind him to topple; turned my head to one side; and exhaled. It was like letting the air out of a balloon. My anger wasn’t for Sean. Maybe it wasn’t even for the government or the rebels or the whitecarder. I don’t know.
I walked back to my bucket and sat down hard. I missed, falling onto the floor, but it didn't matter.
"I only see two choices," came a small voice out of the darkness. It was Desmond, the frail, almost kitten-like boy Clari had helped- had saved.
"We can sit here and just watch things keep getting worse- not helping Clari, or we can try. We can try to make things better. That's what Clari did every day here in her shop. She tried to make things better."
I wasn't sure what to make of this strange scene. Me and Sean both sat waiting for him to say more, hoping he knew more about what Clari did in her shop every day. But he was finished.
In that moment, I realized I'd always thought hope hung, like the smell of fresh-baked bread, in my only connection to my past, my parents. Or over the wall, a trip worth risking your life for. Or just through the bronze door, any of them. Or in a change of circumstances or situation, anywhere but here. But there is not hope in things or places or even in memories. It's in people and knowing them and caring about them enough to do something- anything- to make their lives better. That's what my parents knew, even when they were shipped off the hell-hole that is District 7. That's what Clari knew as she worked in her shop each day. That's what Desmond's known ever since he was saved from the feral by a stranger.
I listened to the trolley pass on top of the wall nearby, shouldered my courier bag, and looked into the other faces in the room.
"Somebody's got to make things."
I turned toward the door, wondering, but knowing it didn't really matter, if anyone would follow.
"So," Sean continued, "what choice do we have? Trade one bad whitecarder for another one. They're really the same as far as we're all concerned. Life will be the same for us no matter who's in charge."
Suddenly, my mind exploded, and I was filled with energy, angry energy, and I aimed it all at Sean. “You’re right, Sean!” I screamed. “You said it yourself. We are outgunned, outmanned, and out-teched; but we knew all that and still recruited Desmond and talked about gathering an army. Now...now what do we do?”
I grabbed Sean by the front of his shirt with both hands, meaning to…I don’t know what I intended. I just shoved him back, causing the pile of gadgets behind him to topple; turned my head to one side; and exhaled. It was like letting the air out of a balloon. My anger wasn’t for Sean. Maybe it wasn’t even for the government or the rebels or the whitecarder. I don’t know.
I walked back to my bucket and sat down hard. I missed, falling onto the floor, but it didn't matter.
"I only see two choices," came a small voice out of the darkness. It was Desmond, the frail, almost kitten-like boy Clari had helped- had saved.
"We can sit here and just watch things keep getting worse- not helping Clari, or we can try. We can try to make things better. That's what Clari did every day here in her shop. She tried to make things better."
I wasn't sure what to make of this strange scene. Me and Sean both sat waiting for him to say more, hoping he knew more about what Clari did in her shop every day. But he was finished.
In that moment, I realized I'd always thought hope hung, like the smell of fresh-baked bread, in my only connection to my past, my parents. Or over the wall, a trip worth risking your life for. Or just through the bronze door, any of them. Or in a change of circumstances or situation, anywhere but here. But there is not hope in things or places or even in memories. It's in people and knowing them and caring about them enough to do something- anything- to make their lives better. That's what my parents knew, even when they were shipped off the hell-hole that is District 7. That's what Clari knew as she worked in her shop each day. That's what Desmond's known ever since he was saved from the feral by a stranger.
I listened to the trolley pass on top of the wall nearby, shouldered my courier bag, and looked into the other faces in the room.
"Somebody's got to make things."
I turned toward the door, wondering, but knowing it didn't really matter, if anyone would follow.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
24 hour collaborative novel
Here's the plan:
We need writers and artists, up to 24, to pick one hour between 6pm Friday, March 11 and 5pm Saturday, March 12 and write or illustrate.
The first writer sets the tone for the entire piece. Each writer must advance the existing plotline and characters.
Each writer may bring in up to two original characters, no matter how big or small.
Each writer must post every 15 minutes, for a total of four posts, so that the next writer can be thinking about his/her part.
Each posting needs to be clean- not just a rough draft.
Illustrators must work with the existing plotline and characters. Your illustration may be based on any of the previously written material.
Illustrators will post at the end of their one hour time- one post only.
Illustrators will need to visit the blog ahead of time to see what types of illustrations can be added.
So...you'll need to come up with your ideas, write, and edit in four 15 minute segments. Or, ilustrate and post at the end of 1 hour.
If you're up for this challenge, contact Michelle via email (michelle.blank@lagrange.lib.in.us), Facebook (Michelle Blank), or DA (knalbm) by Tuesday, March 8. You will be added as an author on a library- sponsored blog. This blog will be the platform for the novel.
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