🚀 go-pugleaf

FROM "THE SONG OF THE MAINTAINERS"

We live in a hollow world
Of metal and plassteel
We live in a hollow world
We walk on the inside.
We walk in this hollow world
And gather the pieces
That those who built our world
In haste left behind.

We are the Maintainers
Holy is our purpose
We are the Maintainers
We fix the machines

We work on this hollow world
To make all work smoothly
We try to fix our world
And make it all right.
It's tough on a hollow world
Where everything's ancient
We must repair this world
Or never reach the next.

We are the Maintainers
Holy is our purpose
We are the Maintainers
We fix the machines

******************************************************************************

FROM THE TEACHINGS OF MEKEL, HIGH TEKNIZIAN

.....and they worshipped the sun, and wished to build it a great
temple, worthy of its magnificent radiance....

.....and so it was that they built a mighty shell about the sun
where all could stand and adore the sun, in its mighty brilliance....

.....and they built the great collector panels to soak up the sun's
gifts of light and heat, and use them for holy purposes.....

.....and the Ancients built mighty cities, filled with wondrous
machines using mysterious and unknowable secrets of Teknology....

.....but there came a day when the Ancients displeased the sun,
despite their right and proper worship of that great glowing entity....

.....and the sun sent a sign of its wrath, in the form of a great
tongue of flame that licked out and burned many of the Ancients.....

.....and the Ancients grew fearful, and left this place, knowing that
the sun was most wrothful indeed....

.....but they left behind a few of their most worthy, that they might
attempt to appease the sun, and win back its approval....

.....Know then, that we are their descendants, and we continue to worship
the sun by maintaining the machines and performing miracles of Teknology....

.....Know also, that the day shall come when the Ancients shall return
to us, flying on a glowing ball of flame......

.....and they shall fix the machines that we cannot repair, and revive
the holy Power Grid, and also reboot the Komputers, verily and forsooth....

.....and then the sun shall adore us again, and shall stop sending us
the unseen poisons that make the hair fall out, and kill children in wombs....

.....and all will be right with the world....

******************************************************************************

The stars have cleared, and Jackpot thinks he can see light.  He wriggles 
his body a little, and is surprised to find that he has more room to move
than the confining dimensions of the narrow coffin of the sleeper berth.
He cranes his neck a little and feels around with his hands -- yep, there's
about half a meter of room in front of him.  Reaching up, Jackpot finds
that the canopy has cracked, and he can see what looks like daylight
filtering through.  Daylight!

Jackpot heaves and tugs and worms and wriggles, and when all is said and
done, he is standing outside the bank of sleeper units.  The last part of
the squeeze was rather painful, since the outside of the coffin rack is
still almost red-hot.  It pings slightly as it cools.  What the hell
happened?

Jackpot remembers being trapped in the sleeper cell when his comm unit
went dead.  He spent some time there, not knowing the fate of his faithful
buddy and employee, Lopez, when the quiet stopped, and the noises began.
The first noise was a loud POP!  The second was the increasingly loud sound
of air rushing past.  And the last sound was a jarring CRUNCH that still
makes Jackpot's spine go shivery.

If Jackpot had to guess, he'd say that he just survived a fall from low orbit.
Good thing those sleeper banks are well padded and have good restraining
straps!

Next order of business: find Lopez.  Jackpot pokes through the steaming
wreckage, and finds a smallish compartment.  No way to know if Lopez is
inside without opening it -- but how?  There's no power, and the control
panel is busted!  Ah, yes! -- the emergency access switch!

                                - * -

"Hold still."

"OW!"

"Nothing worse than a griping weasel."

"Weasard.  Nothing worse than a psycho human with rubbing alcohol."

"Oh, shut up.  You're lucky to be alive."

"That's for damned sure!  You just about blew me up!"

"How was I to know the explosive bolts would throw you out of the compartment?
    It's not like a pilot and orejacker has ever gone low passage before."

"Won't have any choice now -- _Serengeti_Princess_ is now modern sculpture."

"Wise-ass."

"Loser."

"Chicken-stealer!"

"HITCHHIKER!"

"....alright, enough!  We won't get anywhere by arguing.  We've got to
survive in a strange place together."

"Strange is right.  Where the hell are we?  What's all this twisted junk
we're in the middle of?  And why does the horizon curve UP?"

"Good questions, but I got a better one."

"Wuzzat?"

"Who are *they*?"  They look.

There are about twenty of them, dressed in ragged overalls.  There is oil
smeared on their faces, but it has the look of warpaint.  Some of them
bear tools tied to poles with plasticord, and they shake them rhythmicly
as they walk.  They look like the crew of the Goodyear Blimp gone native.

Lopez peers up at Jackpot, a worried look on his feral face.  "If they ask,
I'm not tasty."

The savages stop with one last, clattery shake, and a leader steps forward.
He wears a hardhat like a crown, and proudly brandishes his storypole as
he addresses Jackpot:

"Oh Ancient One!  We, your descendants, witnessed your descent, and we
have come to greet you!  Ask anything, and your wish is our command!"  Then
he spots Lopez, and frowns.  It would seem that anthropomorphic weasels do
not fit into their mythos.

Jackpot knows an opportunity when he sees one.  He shifts into bullshit mode
as quickly as possible and steps forward.

"Well met, Oh noble descendants!  Glad am I that you have come out to meet
me, for there is much I have to tell you!  Now, as for my companion...."  He
frowns down at Lopez.  Lopez gives him a big, desperate grin.  Jackpot smiles
benevolently.

".....he is a faithful pet."  Lopez's grin drops a notch or two.

"Now, first things first!  What plans have you made to celebrate my arrival,
oh loyal grandsons?"

The leader practically drops to his knees in servility.  "Oh great and wise
ancestor!  First we will take you to a mighty feast, the scale of which has
never been witnessed!  You shall be feted as has been no other!"

"Ah, good..." sighs Jackpot, winking at Lopez.  Lopez scurries up onto
Jackpot's shoulder.  "Arf arf!........I'll get you for this, you....."

The tribesman is not finished.  ".....and then, we will show you the broken
machines that you must fix!"

The smile fades from Jackpot's face.  "The....machines?"

The leader looks very unhappy.  "Oh, yes, Old One -- we have lost the secrets
of how many of them work.  Fortunately, I am sure it will be very easy for
you to make the necessary repairs.  For instance, the box that says "Deuterium
Converter" no longer makes the humming noise, but surely you can fix it --
can you not?"

This time it is Jackpot who flashes Lopez the desperate grin.  Lopez licks
Jackpot full on the nose.

"Arf arf!" he sneers. 
-- 
HWRNMNBSOL