Sunday, October 9, 2016

Just glossing right over it

So here's my dilemma. I finished rewrites on two chapters for To Slice The Sky, and now that I have a moment in between school sessions, I want to blog at least more than a week in a row. So, do I milk out content in a cheap manner over multiple weeks, or do I shove it all down your throat and make it so I have something new for next week?

Well, since you really have no say in this, outside of whether or not you're going to continue reading this blog again, I think I'm going to go for option 1. And hey, what's up gang? Haven't seen you in a while. What has it been, like 28 days? A lunar cycle? Really? Wonderful news!

I just finished session A for my fall semester. Session B is going to run halfway through November, and into NaNoWriMo. I'm all ripped and raring to get started, working on my crime/heist/noir deconstruction, Suicide Queen. It'll be fun writing a story about a trio of outlaws in a Sin City-esque manner. I haven't done an extended Noir piece, but I've always been a disciple of Chandler.

The only thing really on my mind has been politics, but such is life during an election year. This isn't a place for me to indoctrinate you into the reason why anarchy works as a sustainable method, but like any other form of governance runs afoul because of its mitigation through humans. But let's just say, if you're a red or blue, we should be uniting over the fact we're pissed this country is fucked up, and the sides we're yelling at aren't to blame. And that's the most political I'm going to get.

I did a lotta stuff in the last month, and going over it would take a long time, soooo... DOG PICTURE AND STORY TIME!



C:\>17_Super_Breakout


In three hours the impossible had been done. After forming a plan, acquiring gear, travelling 155km on public rail lines without blowing cover, and making it to the correct destination, all that remained was the implausible.
     “Did I miss anything fun?” Brawl17 said, tossing down a pastel rainbow knapsack, pokey with the edges of cardboard boxes stacked within. He opened it up and distributed its contents of cold fries and burgers to everyone. No one looked pleased with their order.
     Manner handed him his clone phone.
          You’re Late -M
     Was plastered across the message screen in oversized font.
     “Missed a train. Had to dodge security,” Brawl17 said through a mouthful of fries. “Where’s my gun?”
     “Now that we’re all here,” Sweeps said, unrolling a lumpy thermal blanket, “we can distribute.”
     MR printed firearm receivers and stocks clattered onto the blacktop. Fixer supplied the riot shotgun’s action and barrel from an army surplus gunny sack.
     Six bodies hurriedly ate in silence, sneaking moments to rifle through the goods they procured along the way. The rendezvous point was in an alley blocked off by a neglected stretch of chainlink. Manner pulled out her two-handed sword from a long and flat shipping box.
     Decker felt like he was going to throw up. Anxiety tingled through his limbs in hot flashes, “You sure about sticking with the blade, M?”
          You sure about staying unarmed? -M
     Decker looked back to her from his phone, “What do you mean unarmed? I have the greatest weapon available to humankind, fraggin’ knowledge,” He tapped his skull and gave a grin that didn’t fit his mouth.
     “What are you going to do? SPAM the guards to death?” Fixer deadpanned, “Does anyone know how to put together one of these shooty things?”
     “Okay, again, why does Fixer get a gun but I don’t?” Breaker sulked.
     “Because I’ve seen you shoot,” Fixer snickered at his twin.
     Sweeps said, “Besides, you’re our bomb squad.” He poked gingerly at the courier bag—stuffed with recently assembled IED’s—that hung from Breaker’s shoulder.
     “Dude, don’t be such a panocha,” Decker chided Sweeps as he passed out slugs and shells from his brand new bag. “They won’t blow unless we want them too.”
     “Yeah, so don’t give me a reason to want to,” Breaker’s fake smile was the most menacing look he’d ever given. Sweeps rolled his eyes and handed Fixer an assembled handgun.
          Are we done circlejerking, or are we
          going to commit an act of domestic
          terrorism? -M
     Brawl17 cocked his shotty, ejecting a fresh shell onto the ground, “Locked and mostly loaded.”
     Decker dialed up the cutting took for his omni-glove, “Good. Let’s get this fraggin’ party going, yo.”

*

They moved like shadows between the nooks and crannies of Gene Works Inc.’s largest industrial hub. Decker darkened their pathway to Hangar 18-MD through vulnerabilities in the timing system. A simple switch from AM to PM was all it took to sneak into a protected installation. The thought gave Decker a case of the grins, chuckling at the little pleasures in life. Human nature made slicing more of a social experiment than a merging of man and technology that so many fetishized it to be. Not like Decker was innocent of that charge, but at least he could back up most of his smack.
          Breaker played scout, scanning for bodies and breaks in patrol routes with his limited visual filters. Sweeps was on topdown map duty. His new mobile sported a low res holo projector so Decker shared a trial copy of his cartography app. Sweeps wouldn’t stop wahing about Chinese Sildenafil ads covering the map so Decker unlocked the paid version.
     Everyone’s clone phone rattled with a message alert.
Breaker: 😫 Long stretch to next alley.
Fraggin guard.wont move
Breaker: Lend a hand sum1?
     “You have the worst typing skills,” Fixer stage whispered.
     Manner pushed forward and crouched down at the edge of the light beside Breaker. He stopped her from proceeding, pointing out a patrol winding its way around back to them.
     Decker swapped vision modes, locking in on the lone jackhole right near the exit of their alley. Two guards pathed around in front of the nuisance; they exchanged skeletal nods in Decker’s HUD. He followed the lighting nodes to one in the guard’s line of sight and flickered it on and off. It did the trick of catching his eye, but the rat bastard wouldn’t budge. He set a timing sequence for a series of lights across the way. They blinked out Morse code for GTFO. The chump still wouldn’t move.
          Decker: Don’t want to do anything more
          compromising. 2nd pat & all.
     Manner rolled her eyes at him. She motioned to kill the lights above them. Decker obliged, still not drawing the least curious guard in Metro City away from their spot. Manner fished inside Breaker’s backpack, pulling out a roll of gaffer tape.
     “Hey that’s for later.”
     She put a finger to his lips, cut a strip off with her teeth, then peeked around the corner. She silently sidled beside the unsuspecting sap and slapped the strip over his lips. With a boot to the back of the knee the guard was down and in Manner’s grasp.
     “Guards are coming back,” Breaker hissed at her.
     Manner wrestled the guy back into the alley. She flung him to the ground and stung a quick jab to the schnoz. Brawl17 picked up the tape roll and got it wound around the guy’s wrists and ankles while Manner and Breaker disarmed him. He struggled and “MrphMrphed” as Brawl17 shoved him in between two girder outcroppings.
     Brawl17 gave the guy a flick between the eyes, “Hey. Shut it, will ya?”
     The group huddled in the dark around the alley exit. The duo of guards patrolled back around their way.
     “Look, light’s out. Where the frag is that lazy chucker Winston? He was here a hot minute ago.”
     “Probably taking another skag break. Fraggin’ trad has IBS. Or some outdated excuse he uses to milk time on the clock.”
     Winston protested against his restraints. Brawl17 pushed his head backwards into the hanger side, his eyes went stupid before he passed out.
     Decker scowled at Brawl17, “Dude, I thought we said we were going to try and reduce the people we brain damage and kill.”
     “You said that,” Brawl17 returned the scowl. “I didn’t promise skag.”
     Decker held his ground and his breath as tension mounted at the alley mouth. The group pushed further inwards as the patrol silhouetted at the end. Flashlights cut through the darkness, catching a huddled group of armed clones like a prison break.
     One went for their gun, the other went for their radio. Manner sighed, disarmed the gunman with a snap of wrist bones, then bashed the radio operator in the teeth. They made a grand amount of noise in their pain. Brawl17 gave Decker a knowing smile before joining the fray.

     Incapacitated guards laid in a squirming, face to face, duct-taped, embrace. The group checked the map for the path to Trip’s hanger and filtered out of the alley.

***

     Trip startled awake, making a laughable attempt to defend himself. A stern domestic clone's face stared intently at Trip, grabbed a wrist, and yanked him from the helicopter.
     From the hangar floor, Trip caught a glimpse of the huge sword she used as leverage and scooted away in a panic. He darted looks at the motley crew of cloned faces, each one packing a printed weapon.
     Fixer rubbed his temples, “Hey bud, snap outta it. We wanted to make this quick.”
     "Who-wha-whe—" Trip said from outer space, "Fixer, Breaker?"
     "Yeah, I'm here." The Twins said with slightly different inflections.
     Trip looked around at the group, "If you dudes are—where's Decker—?"
     Decker stepped out from behind the group, giving his usual half smirk. With a non-committal wave he said, “’sup, dude?”
     Trip laughed and cried at the same time with a wave of exhausted relief. For the first time in a long time, things felt like they could kind of be okay.
     Decker gave Trip a hand up, and an augmented bearhug, “I missed you, ya fraggin’ punk,” Trip landed back on his feet.
     A stunned Trip pat his friend twice on the back, “You too, Decks. You too.”
     “And what the frag are you wearing?”
     They finished introductions and rehashed the points of their ambitious escape plan. Letting their hair down for a moment, the clones swapped cigarettes and readied supplies.
     Breaker looked scared as skag. "Hate to break up the lovefest boyos, but, I'm spotting mods and rifles heading our way. Oooooh, frag, they’re gathering outside.”
     Decker put his hand up to his ear, “Ah, skag, Customer support comms are back up." He pointed to Fixer, cutting him off, “Fixer, don’t you fraggin’ dare say I told you so about the SPAM bombs.”
     “Twins, set charges at the east and south exits,” Sweeps ordered them off.
     “So we’re doing plan B?” Brawl17 cracked his neck and knuckles.
     “Hijacking a Gene Works train out into The Wastes wasn’t already Plan B?” Trip’s eyes widened.
     “Don’t worry, dude,” Decker gave Trip an encouraging pat on the arm, “Stealing a helicopter is gonna be way more fun.”
     All of Trip’s good feeling fell from his heart to the pit of his gut. It sad like a sour acidic wad, eating away at any idea of hope he had in Plan A.

***

     The control room looked like a caricature of Soviet Bloc technology from a Retrowave Cold War flick. Decker attempted an interface through his HUD, finding the hangar controls restricted to console only access.
     “Clever girl,” Decker whispered, pulling up the haptic interface. He clicked enter through the pre-filled log in screens. “Oh, not so clever girl.” He navigated archaic—though solidly constructed—menu screens to the hanger bay controls. In a second session Decker opened the flight manifest editor, marking them clear to depart with air-traffic control.
          Yo. Ready to open the dome. What’s the sitch?
     Decker messaged the group.
          Manner: Breaker says we’re surrounded -M
          Sweeps: Trouble inbound.
          Breaker: We surrounded
          Fixer: I believe this is what they call
          “setting up a perimeter”.
          Breaker: Were*
          Brawl17: Charges set. Get your ass in
          gear.
          Breaker: We’re**
     “I hope one of us knows how to fly a helicopter.” Decker jammed on the Y key. A metallic chunk reverberated through the control room windows. Light pollution seeped in through the widening pathway to the sky. Decker left the control room to rejoin the others. A shadow poked over the bottom lip of the open roof, accompanied by the familiar sound of whooping helicopter blades rushing towards them.
     “You know, for once I’d like something to go fraggin’ easy,” Decker said to no one.
     The clones found cover, weapons drawn and ready. Decker and Trip retreated into the passenger cabin of their escape vehicle. Breaker followed, climbing into the vacant cockpit.
     “I’m downloading a flight primer,” he gave Decker a thumbs up with one hand. The other gripped his mobile, itching to blow the door charges. Decker flipped to his own HUD to see a ring of augmented and armed corporate soldiers ready to storm the joint. Above, the chopped brought another team even closer to drop right on top of them.
     “Breaker, be ready on that detonator.” Decker got adjusted in a seat, pulled an inhaler from his jacket’s stash pocket and said, “I’m gonna do something drastic.”

*

Decker popped out of his launcher into The Raw before graphics had a chance to render. Pink electric streaks shot through the vivid jungle green of GWI’s server space. All of the real life dangers just outside his physical and digital area showed through as augments and onboard weapons VI chips. In the midnight sky hung a blue-green tube filled with more deathbringers.
     “We meet again, pinkie.” Circuit lines burned with a knowing light all through the space around Decker’s avatar. “Ok, don’t mock the MCP till you’re off The Grid. Noted.”
     Decker attempted to force his way back into his previous weak point only to find himself blocked out with a hot pink ERROR bursting in his face. Glacial level ICE snap froze over the surface of everything in iridescent spears of pixilated crystal. Pink light danced in the point of every shard.
     “Okay, frag subtlety,” Decker launched an icebreaker only to have it crash upon loading. Frustrated, Decker attempted again and again, only to be shut down at every turn.
     “Hardball it is,” Decker said, loading every tool he had in his belt at once, set to re-open upon closure. Heat made itself felt from Decker’s overclocked rig, health widget warning of excessive cranial heat. All it took was one lucky strike and Decker got his slicing GUI to stay open. He fired up the icebreaker and jammed it right into his crudely rendered lock. Ice shattered from everywhere. Trillions of crystalline fragments filled the air in a stuttering kaleidoscopic rainbow. Decker triggered the gliding blue-green tube’s killswitch command. It blinked out of existence with the augments and weapons inside floating in midair before wobbling back and forth into a staggered descent.
     Bile churned in Decker’s guts back in Base Plane Reality. He choked it back as best he could, turning attention to the invading weapons. Another crude slice with brute force .xpz’s and all the pink and green weapons chips blipped out of The Raw.

***

Outside the hanger's walls the sounds of approaching propellers were replaced by metal rending and glass breaking, accompanied by sounds of human anguish. Everyone's head snapped towards the hangar dome, split wide at the center. Sounds of foot soldier aid to the downed craft came from outside.
     Decker dipped back to consciousness, shouting, “Blow Charges! Boom, boom, fraggin’ boom!” He puked a mostly digested burger and fries onto the helicopter floor.
     Trip dug a bottle of water from Decker’s bag and handed it to him. He dumped it mostly on his steaming head as thunder roared from improvised explosive devices. Fire plumes turned the Midwest autumn air into Hollywood summertime. Breaker went through pre-flight checklists, muttering to himself about the correct order of switches, dials and buttons to press and get the blades spinning. White noise chatter from angry footsoldiers sounded from outside. Gun barrels poked through fire and debris, unable to squeeze off a shot. The hangar creaked and groaned beneath the weight of the open roof, smoke blackening the stalled remnants.  
     Trip poked his head out of the passenger door, “Team, we are leaving.” He pulled his head inside, looking up at the partially open exitway. “No pressure, but that’s going to be a tight squeeze.” Breaker shot him a look. “No pressure.”
     Telltale signs of the next team of choppered in grunts came on the wind over the sound of their own propeller. The clones began their retreat as rappel hooks flung over the lip of the hangar roof. Sweeps fired off a shot at the first unlucky sucker to peek over the edge. The first one missed, but the second one made enough contact to knock them loose from the wall. Too many targets went over the top, shifting the clone’s response from shooting at the invaders to getting the hell out.
     Brawl17 hoisted his frame in and closed the passenger door, “All in, get us airborne, kid.”
     Breaker eased the throttle higher and they rocked off of the ground with an off-balanced start. Small arms fire spaked off the transport vehicle’s carbon layer-armor as it fumbled upwards and out of Hangar 18-MD. Sweeps was already strapped in, sweating buckets, when Decker and Trip remembered they had safety harnesses. Fixer and Brawl17 stowed their luggage into storage areas while Manner got herself into the co-pilot chair.
     A baritone whoop sounded in the cockpit with a warning of potential collision. Between the smell of Decker’s barf and Breaker’s novice piloting, Trip was ready to be sick himself as they narrowly dodged slamming into the hangar roof.
     With a, “Here we go,” the chopper tilted forward. Through the windshield, all of the soldiers were action figures. Their tracers flew wild through the sky like cartoon lasers. A gust of ill wind tossed the group off balance. Collision alarms bleeped as the side of a control tower filled the windshield. Breaker yanked the flight stick, pitching the helicopter up and back like a pair of legs. Brawl17 and Fixer tumbled backwards into the armory cage, the force of their impact busted the strike plate off the flimsy door. Sore and tangled they yelled at the pilot to learn to fly.
     “What do you think I’m trying to do?” Breaker yelled back, righting the chopper.
     Assault rifle fire filled the sky, some finding home in their armor layer. Breaker banked hard to the left, away from the control tower’s obstruction and over Lake Michigan. Soldiers on the ground gave up on wasting slugs. Smoke from Plan B was a pillar of black against an illuminated night sky. A black path in the transit hub’s lighting snaked from the edge of the complex all the way to the fiery wreckage of Hangar 18-MD.
     Breaker throttled forward over the lake, trying to clear Metro City on the north side before hooking west. Manner looked back into the cabin, checking on the group. Fixer and Brawl17 emerged from the twisted metal of the armory cage and gave a thumbs up. At a steady clip, the chopper bobbed side to side on the lakefront winds, inching closer to the edge of the city walls. The air inside the cabin crackled with anticipation, everyone on the edge of their seat, eyeing the glowing border below.
     Screaming into the cockpit, alarms warned of engagement by hostile aircraft. A Vulcan cannon version of a warning shot flared across their nose. A second shot printed, ‘we mean business,’ in braille along the passenger door.
     Ms. Jaberansari’s voice came over the comm channel, “Attention. You are considered terrorists according to Metro City’s City-State Contract definition. Land our stolen property now and face a fair and unbiased trial. Or, continue your present course and accept the maximum penalty for your crime.”
     Her voice was replaced by the sound of missile lock and everyone’s choice of profanity.
     Fixer thriced himself for the first time in his life, “You know you’re not landing, so you better get good pretty quick at dodging bullets.”
     “So be it,” Jaberansari cut communication.
     Decker said, “Just keep flying, Break. I think I’m in their targeting—“ the chopper dipped downwards as a trail of smoke and fire boomeranged across the sky.
     “Good flying, bud,” Fixer cheered.
     “Good my ass. That was pure fraggin’ luck,” Breaker pulled the nose up to gain some altitude on the missile arcing its way towards them.
     “We got two drones on our tail,” Decker said. “Soon to be,” An explosion plumed behind them, “one.”
     Flaming wreckage from one of the drones fell, spiraling into the earth. Cheers and exultations were answered by a swooping line and the sound of punctured safety glass. Pressure dropped inside the cabin, sucking anything loose towards the sticky holes in the windshield, painted in a smeared spattering of scarlet.
     Fixer cried out a sustained, “No.”
     Breaker slumped in his seat, control stick still in hand. The world shifted back and upwards. A bloody moon came grinning into view as the engine coughed itself to a stalled silence. A blanket of bruise violet sky laid below while Metro City shone like a terrestrial star above. A black hawk of a drone swooped below its wounded prey, ready to close in for the kill. Gravity regained control of the situation.
     The motor sputtered and struggled while they dropped like a spinning rock. Manner flicked the red ignition switch, prying the flight stick away from Breaker with her other hand. Separate alerts for altitude, collision, and engagement ping-ponged amongst the screams and resolutions with death. One last frustrated flick of a switch the engine caught, blades fighting to stay attached to the rotor as they spun up.
     Manner pulled Breaker free from the restraint harness, and stepped over his prone corpse into the pilot seat.
     “Does she know how to fly this?” Trip’s voice steeped in terror.
     Manner throttled up, getting the blades to a rough hover. They faced towards the red and blue double-helix of Gene Works Inc.’s headquarters jutting from the center of Metro City’s dartboard. Headlights rose into view, flooding the cabin with light.
     “Hit the deck,” Brawl17 wriggled from his seat. A slug caught him low in the thigh while he crawled for cover.
     The rest followed his example and got low. A spray of high velocity slugs tore apart a concentrated circle through the cockpit. Manner popped her head back into the drone’s floodlights, flipped it the bird, and pitched the helicopter blades forward. Sparks burst from the tail of the drone upon contact. It maintained an unsteady hover as Manner fought to regain control and altitude.
     Fixer looked up from the rain of death to see the back end of the chopper a mess of slagged alloys. He army crawled past the rest of the crew and into the ruins of the armory. Tossing aside useless junk he dug out a long black crate. With a pop of latches, Fixer hoisted out the contents of the mystery box: a fragging bazooka. He smiled like a madman, duckwalking with it to the passenger gate.
     “Uh, Fix,” Brawl17 said from the floor.
     It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered in Fixers world beyond whatever plan he was concocting in his head. He unlatched the side gate, and baffled the wind off himself from behind the bulk of his weapon. Manner was on the cusp of the north-central border. Fixer followed the instructions on the side of his new toy, priming switches at each step. He held it up to his shoulder, tracking the injured drone limp behind them.
     “Manner, give me something to look at.” Fixer shouted against the rushing wind.
     The chopper tilted on its northward climb. Metro City’s northern border glowed beneath, rotating as a smoking black silhouette grew over the city lights.
     Fixer sighted, muttered to himself, and launched a rocket out the side of a helicopter. Their pursuer burst into a ball of fire, flashing warm light across the interior of the helicopter. Fixer grunted, breathing heavily, and dropped the rocket launcher. He took his seat, staring down at the blood trail leaking from Breaker’s body. Everyone else retook their seats and flew on in silence.
***
Sands kicked up at the edge of town, signaling the approach of a bullet riddled helicopter. A pack of wild dogs, picking through picked over garbage, turned tail into houses and backyards.
     Manner touched down on a chunk of scorched earth inside a wide open fairground entrance. Decker and Trip hopped out with a bag between them. Fixer stood in the doorway. They locked eyes for a moment, nodded and broke contact. Decker poked his head inside, took a look from Brawl17—doped up on something, leg in bandages—to the cockpit. Sweeps sat sideways, looking grave. Manner kept looking forwards, giving no sign of emotion.
     All Decker could muster was, "I'm so sorry, guys."
     Sweeps looked him in the face with mismatched eyes, "You have your friend. You've upheld your part of the deal. We've got a war to go join."
     Trip said, "Wait, we're all going back to Hollywood, right? Why not together? Right?"
     Manner responded by taking off. Decker and Trip ducked and moved out of the way. They watched the sky until they couldn’t be certain if they were looking at anything. Chilled winds moaned through the broken out windows of the neighborhood. Decker scanned the area for anything useful, particularly to ward off dogs.
     “Well,” Trip said, “at least we have each other.”
     They gave each other a super-bro hug, patting each other on the back twice and pulling away into a fly-by double hi five.
     "Man, have I got a story to tell you." Trip said as they made for the exit access.
     “If yours doesn’t have subterranean fish people in it, mine wins.”
     “We’ll see about that.”
     “Yeah, I guess we will.” Decker shrugged, “C’mon, let’s go steal us a car.”

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