🚀 go-pugleaf

     The AirYacht seemed to drift almost lazily to the LockPad.  It was
reminiscent of a hot air balloon drifting to Earth, Chalandra thought.
She remembered a time -- France it must have been so that was the
eighteenth century -- when she was taken on a Moonlight Hot Air Balloon
Ride.  It ended up raining and Chalandra had flown home under her own
power.
     Andy once told her he had spent the time and expense necessary to
develop Awetite based craft because of his love of AirShips -- their
grace and silent operation, at least in the cabin.  Chalandra couldn't
argue with the grace of the Power AirShip, but she missed the almost
ferocious power of the aircraft it replaced.
     It was almost midnight in Seattle.  The City seemed to glow with
evening light and life.  The towering spires and high catwalks connected
in the upper levels of the city seemed like a beacon of light and hope.
     Chalandra was not in any mood for light and hope.  She was
eternally cursed to never see Heaven, if there was anything to it --
she'd rather not be reminded of it.
     "Touchdown, Alpha-cit," Carlson's voice came over the intercom.
"Are you sure you'd not rather I called an AirDinghey to bring you to
the apartment?  It's awfully late."
     "I'm sure -- this is my high noon, Carlson.  Remember?"  Chalandra
punched the hatch release and stepped down to the landing pad.  She
tightened the black trenchcoat around herself and strode towards
disembarkment.  A long walk -- long enough to make her undead muscles
feel it -- was just what the Doctor ordered, tonight.




                                  2035

                  A Decidedly Different Superguy Story

                                   by
                            Eric Alfred Burns

                              Chapter Three




     The sirens echoed everywhere in the room.  Bill lurched, looking
for the way out as the slamming and pounding threatened to kill him.
     <<Set the uplink!>> JOEL shouted.  <<We can't control the
reaction!>>
     "I'm coming!" Bill shouted, but the darkness swallowed up his
voice.
     "Daveuser, we are in imminent danger of overloading the Defense
Net.  We are in imminent danger."
     "Bill, you have to establish the link."
     "Andy?  Andy!!?  We'll never separate--"
     "Danger," HAL said again.
     <<Danger,>> JOEL agreed.
     The access poles rose before him.  Bill blasted at them, but
couldn't break them.
     "We have to control the reaction, Bill," Andy's voice said.  Bill
saw it -- a huge Statue, larger than life.
     "Andy," he begged.
     "It'll only work through you.  Trust me, Bill."
     "Andy!"
     <<Danger, HAL.>>
     "Danger, DAVE."
     Sobbing, Bill saw his hands lift -- almost alien.  As cold as the
circuit-suit he wore.  The Lines of Electricity snaked out, connecting
and establishing the link.  Fragments of light pulsed through him.  Bill
felt his virtual form plummeting into a Unix-based pit.  He slammed into
the floor, naked.  He pushed to his feet.  He smelled the smell of
cigars.
     And looked into the too-human face in front of him.
     "Screwed it again," the voice snarled.  "Screwed it all again,
didn't you, kid."  The face turned away.  "Bloody typical."
     Bill sat bolt upright, screaming.
     Liz  grabbed him.  "Bill -- oh Bill.  You're awake."
     "I know.  I know.  I...figured that."
     "Was it the nightmare?"
     "It wasn't the queen.  Jeez...it's been...what... eight months?"
     "I don't know."  Elizabeth put an arm around her husband.  Her
anger still simmered below the surface, but she pushed it down there.
Bill... needed her right now.  Maybe now more than ever.


                               * * * * * *


     Chalandra walked among the catwalks.  She was tired.  But bed --
she was nowhere near bed.  It was at best midday, from her point of
view.
     Still, she was alone on the sterile catwalks half-a-mile above the
city.  Just her and the blinking Smartcom towers as she passed them.
Each one marking her.  Each one approving her.  Chalandra almost
laughed.  For years her feral energies had been directed to defense.
For decades now her drives had been blunted by high living with Manny
and Badass.  But even after all of that, her edge was as sharp, her
tense form as ready, as it had been for centuries.  She was a hunter --
the perfect hunter.  And the towers blithely passed her along.
Chalandra wondered what they considered a threat.
     Of course, the so called threats were downtown.  Not so far up.  Up
here only angels and Alphas trod.  Well, Alphas and Betas.
     Chalandra was struck with contempt of her surroundings.  Cool and
safe and sterile.  She didn't want safe.  She was sterile enough on her
own.  With a thought, her skin boiled away into mist -- clothing and
flesh melting into the mist, even as the fog melted away.
     Liberated of her human form, Chalandra swept into the night sky.
She painted a picture of the city with sound, leathery wings thrumming a
beat as she dove.  She felt around her with sound, learning every
outcropping as she dove down into the heart of the city.  Down to where
life still thrummed in the walls.  Down where the blood...was still hot.


                               * * * * * *


     Elizabeth brought Bill a mug of steaming chamomile tea.  "I hate
tea," he muttered, but sipped it anyway.  There was an alcohol-like
sting.  She must have added his medicine.  Well, that was smart -- it
was something of an anesthetic and a depressant.  That's why he didn't
often take it -- the advanced technical abilities which were the last
vestiges of his true super powers were dulled by the drugs.  He needed
them.  All too often, he needed them.
     "So," Elizabeth said, sliding onto the stool across from him.
"What did you think of Dan's offer?"
     "What offer."
     Liz rolled her eyes.  "Bill -- don't you ever check your messages?"
     "It's been pretty rare that I've wanted to."
     "Dan wants you to work on a new processor chip.  Some sort of
Integral Neural Processing system -- lots of heuristic subprocessors."
     "*Dan* wants me to work on a processor?  Dan wouldn't know a
heuristic subsystem from a holistic subgenius."
     "He said his staff developed it in concept -- for the
implementation of Nojware nine point two -- but they can't seem to
actualize it."
     Bill looked sour.  "You mean to tell me Dan actually wants me to
help that vacuous religious surrogate he developed?  I find myself
actually offended."
     "Bill -- the Noj concept has helped a lot of people to become
happier and more productive."
     Bill snorted.  "Forget it, Liz."
     "Bill, you need a project."
     "I have a project."
     "I mean you need something workable -- I mean, you refuse to
develop systems that interface with Awenet, so they don't do anyone any
good.  You ignore Double-A Standards on your hardware, so it can't be
used by anyone."
     "It could be used by anyone who didn't want to depend on Double-A,"
Bill muttered.
     "Bill -- no one would want to.  No one would want to step
backwards.  Awenet and Double-A do all they want and more -- no one
would want to use a standalone computer with a percentage of the
processing power."
     "I get by."
     Liz sighed.  It was a sigh as familiar to Bill as the dull ache.
It was a sigh that suggested Liz would probably be gone the day after
Brenda was.  Bill knew she loved him -- but Bill also knew she didn't
really understand.  She hadn't understood for twenty years or more.


                               * * * * * *


     The mist flowed out of the Bat's fur and skin, obscuring it as it
swelled into a distinctly human shape.  It tightened back in, and flowed
into the black of the trenchcoat, the blacker of the hair, and the pale
white skin.
     The hot scent of humanity flared Chalandra's nostrils.  Here, in
the depths of Seattle -- here, where the Deltas and Kappas lived -- here
was life.  The harsh glare of neon and light split her eyes and seared
her.  The air was moist with heat, despite the hour.  Day and night
meant little, here.  Across from the alley she had hidden her
transformation in, she could see three bars, all slamming with music.
The sound was alien to Chalandra -- the SyncSynth trash that passed for
music these days -- but the beat hammered her blood and seemed to almost
wake the dead heart deep inside her.  She stepped out into the light of
the street, and listened.  The two singers -- an alto and a baritone,
sang with the perfection of studio remastering -- their voices dissonant
in their alternate melo-harmonic line....

     YOU/i/KNOW/need/YOU/the/WANT/touch/IT
          that/AND/only/YOU/your/KNOW/care/I/can/DON'T/bring/CARE--
     YOU/i/KNOW/need/YOU/the/NEED/hope/ME
          that/BUT/one/YOU/look/KNOW/from/I/you/WON'T/sings/SHARE--
     YOU/i/SEE/need/MY/the/EYES/spirit
          BUT/that/I/will/WON'T/let/LET/me/YOU/endure/IN--
     YOU/i/THINK/need/YOU/the/KNOW/fire/ME
          which/BUT/makes/YOU/you/CAN'T/seem/TASTE/so/MY/secure/SIN!!!!

     She stopped and forced herself to stop listening -- when she could
even make out the double lyric line it seemed about as insipid as
crossing "Wake Me Up Before You Go Go" with "Trust the Government,
Girl."  But the rhythm slammed and slammed, and she could go in to where
the noise was too much to make out individual sound -- to drown herself
in an orgy of living, breathing, sweating humanity.  To rip open the
throat of the club and drink--
     The blow slammed her back into the Alley.  A second slammed into
her stomach, and one rang across her head.  Snapped into the here and
now, but face down on the pavement, she sensed those around her.  The
wave of their stench slapped her -- human excrement and urine and vomit
and sweat.
     "Joy-Alph," one snapped, grabbing her by the hair and pulling her
up from the pavement.
     "Pretty Alph give over?" another asked, leering.  "Get
th'accountdeck."
     "Hold her so I can score the ActId," a third -- female, said,
groping around Chalandra's chest -- no, groping for her Active ID.
     The pain swirled away, as the dark power permeating Chalandra's
cells repaired the minor damage.  Her head cleared fully and she snapped
herself awake.  Prey....
     Chalandra forced her body to relax, like she was fainting.  The guy
-- what they called a Pit, she assumed -- holding her up by the hair
swore and grabbed her shoulders.  He lifted--
     Chalandra kicked up, arcing her body over the Pit, and slamming the
Datathief in the jaw with both legs extended.  This snapped the girl's
neck up and threw her back, though Chalandra didn't note the popping of
the thick bones or cartilage.  She pushed down on the Pit she was over,
forcing him down as she braced her feet on the wall of the Alley and
kicked off.  She used her momentum to throw her form into a tackle of a
third Pit, taking the half-second to make an estimate.  Maybe ten,
erring high.  She tucked her head and drove the point of it into the
Pit's shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him, bringing him down
hard on the back of his head.  A grabbed at her from behind, trying to
pull her off and pin her down.  She thrust back with an elbow, to rattle
the fighter.  She wasn't surprised she felt some sort of layered
armoring protecting his abdomen.  But it backed him off a bit.
Guesstimating his height, she speared back with the elbow again,
catching him in the adam's apple and dropping him.
     She rolled off the one she tackled, who was trying to grab her but
apparently had his brains scrambled by his head blow.  As she rolled she
felt a long, hard metal rod and scooped it up.  From the heft she knew
it was a submachinegun -- probably an HK-804.  Badass had trained her on
804s.
     Bullets ripped into her side as she rolled up into a three point
stance.  They hurt like Hell, but Chalandra focused past the pain.  Pain
or not, bullets couldn't really hurt her.  But they could mess up her
day really bad, if enough of them were pumped into her.  She brought up
the SMG and squeezed off two three-bullet bursts, which scattered the
mob before they could form a coordinated attack.  They weren't used to
victims who didn't play the game right.
     There were three bruisers that were heavily armored.  They were the
most dangerous -- the rest Chalandra would hardly need the gun for.  She
carefully fired a burst along the jointing of the first armored Pit's
knee grieve.  The bullets ripped into the vulnerable side plating on the
joint and the Pit went down, screaming and trying to clutch the wound
through the armor.  A second volley was more dangerous -- fired into the
lightly or unarmored folks, but it convinced them to not start shooting.
Chalandra felt in overdrive, now.  The humans seemed to move so slowly
in comparison.  The gun spat out and brought another armored foe down.
Chalandra smiled a feral, killer's smile....
     The dark of the Alley was split open by halogen light.  Startled,
Chalandra instinctively rolled to one side and brought the gun to bear.
Four AirSurfers -- all heavily armored -- swept into and above the
alley.  DefSquad.
     "No," Chalandra whispered.  "I was handling it."
     "Cease and Desist," echoed a loud synthesized voice.  "This is the
Voice-of-DefSquad.  Failure to comply will result in measures being
taken."  The DefSquad crewmen weren't waiting, it seemed.  The upper
craft began to fire high caliber weaponry, cutting into the Pits who
were scrambling for cover.  A third deployed a long, grey metal tube
which oriented.  The Pits started diving out of the way -- trying to
avoid the tube more than the thirty-millimeter cannon fore which was
mowing into them.
     The tube fired.  Silver strands of wire streamed out, expanding
into what almost looked like a wave of steel mesh.  The contrasting
smell of fire and ozone filled the air as the mesh net flowed over the
Pit.  There were isolated shrieks as the caught transients fell to the
ground, spasming -- their faces contorting hideously.  Even the ones
Chalandra had knocked out were spasming as direct current filled and
locked their muscles.
     "Please do not resist the suppression," the Voice-of-DefSquad
calmly said.  "Resistance could result in injury to yourself."  One
Pit -- the female Datathief -- Chalandra must not have kicked her as
hard as she thought she had, had managed to avoid everything and ran out
of the alley.  The others were utterly neutralized in the Suppression
Wave.  Two AirSurfers rose higher and pursued the remaining Pit, the
third landed at the edge of the ally to cordon it off, and the fourth
landed near to where Chalandra crouched.  The four officers deployed.
One went to the Suppression Wave's edge, holding a compact submachinegun
of efficient design and a make unknown to Chalandra.  No doubt the state
of the Art of Double-A.  Of course, no one inside the net moved.
Chalandra felt sick.
     A second officer -- one with  silver pips on his shoulders, spoke
to the third.  "Legal Officer Two -- have we difficulties with Retro
Kill Vouchers or with the Suppression?"
     "No, Team Leader Two.  I mark several weapons, some of which have
IR traces showing recent firings.  I have support struts which probably
came from the Kidnapping vehicle.  We have the ActId trace of Alpha-cit
Harkness, and we have the VidCaptures of the standoff.  Legally, we're
clear."
     "Kidnapping?" Chalandra said, standing.  Her body ached and the
bullet wounds lanced through her -- she ignored them.  Now was not the
time to evaporate so the bullets would fall out of where her body once
was.
     "Alpha-cit Harkness?" the fourth officer said.  "Are you all
right?"
     "Yes -- but what did he mean--"
     "Good.  I am Officer Two Bee of Delta Team Nineteen, Lower Seattle
Metroplex.  We've summoned an AirDinghey to bring you home."
     "Shut up."  She turned pushed past the officer and faced the Team
Leader and Legal Officer.  "They didn't kidnap me," she said.  "They
tried to mug me."
     "Erase and correct," the Legal Officer said.  "Continue from
Article four.  Article four appears to be an HK-804 in serviceable
condition, with one long furrowed scratch on the barrel.
     "Excuse me," Chalandra said, angry now.  "I said they didn't kidnap
me.  You're charging them with the wrong crime."
     "Erase and correct, hold at Article four," the legal officer said,
and turned to the Team Leader.
     The Team Leader did not even appear disturbed.  He turned and faced
chalandra.  "Alpha-cit Harkness, you have been assaulted.  This is a
horrible thing to happen to anyone."
     Chalandra bit back her remark.  It had actually been the best thing
to happen all week, before DefSquad came in with both barrels blazing.
     "I can understand that it has you confused, and perhaps feeling a
not-uncommon sympathy for your assailants.  However, we have records of
the loss of ActId reception on Alpha Level Six Eight Seven of Pollodine
AirLaunch Facility in Redmond District Upper Seattle Metroplex at oh oh
twenty-six and the reestablishment of the signal at street level in
Pullyap Lower Seattle Metroplex at oh oh forty-four.  The distance
indicates Power Flight."
     "I flew myself.  I'm a--" she did not say Vampire.  "I'm a
paranorm."  It was a lie -- she had no true powers, except for the
abilities given to all vampires along with the curse.  But it was a fine
line of distinction.
     "Ma'am, victims often are confused, therefore it is standard
DefSquad policy to disregard testimony in lieu of evidence and principle
investigation.  That is Legal Officer Two's duty.  He is a trained
professional.  I will ask you in an official capacity not to interfere
with the investigation further."
     "What?  But--"
     "Officer Two Bee, please escort Alpha-cit Harkness to the side.  I
have a signal from the AirDinghey that it will be arriving momentarily.
     The officer took Chalandra by the arm.  Numbly -- Chalandra let
herself be led.  She didn't know what to say or do.  "I had everything
under control," she said.  "I didn't ask for DefSquad to come in."
     "Ma'am?  Vigilantism is hardly an appropriate response," the
officer said, mildly.
     The AirDinghey -- emblazoned with the DefSquad Logo -- landed, and
Chalandra boarded.  As she got on board, she looked back at the
Suppression Wave.  She could hear the moans of those still conscious.
She could see the one she had tackled and taken the gun from.  He was
straining to move -- fighting the effects of the direct current that had
locked his muscles.  Chalandra knew with sudden certainty that the mesh
was reactive -- that the electricity was growing in intensity as the Pit
struggled.  That if he didn't black out, the amperage would kill him.
     She looked at the still warm gun in her hand.  It looked so clean.
     The AirDinghey lock closed, and it rose silently into the night
sky.  There was a pilot, but she was not actually flying.  No doubt
Awenet knew her apartment pad's location and would fly it there.  No
human needed to control the flight.
     Chalandra sank into her seat, clutching the gun like a fetish.  "I
had everything under control," she whispered, and began to sob harder
than she had for years.


<<The Characters herein are used by permission of their Authors.  The
events herein should not be considered to affect said characters save in
the context of this story>>