🚀 go-pugleaf

     Danielle slipped into the Magrail tube.  The Blue Car was full of other
Gamma-Citizens, just like her.  Danielle loved to ride in the Magrails --
they made her feel close and loved -- a part of the community.  That's all
Danielle ever wanted, was to feel like part of the Community.
     A Delta-Cit was walking down the aisle, picking up garbage.  Danielle
had seen this girl every day for weeks -- it was an important job -- a clean
car was a happy car, after all.  Still, Danielle wished the girl would just
finish up and move on.  She made Danielle uncomfortable.  After all, Deltas
were six percent more likely to become violent in tense situations than
Gammas.  That was part of what made them Deltas -- they were given jobs where
they didn't have the tension the Gammas had.  Danielle certainly had a tenser
life than any Delta -- why, Double-A trusted her to be a PrimeDesignSpec with
only one Beta above her and *fifty* others.  She had to be good, coming up
with the right textiles in the right patterns and colors to keep that happy,
fresh feeling going.  Some of her designs had even been popular, for a while.
That made her feel good.  If she could make a lot of people happy, she was
making the community happy.  That was good.
     She ordered a Diet Soka Cola from the display.  It cost either Secure
ought and fifty or Pers one -- she paid with Pers.  Secure was best left
untouched, so it would grow and help both Danielle and all of Double-A.  The
Delta stopped cleaning and went up to the front of the car, to bring the Soka
back.  That made Danielle feel better, too.  When the Delta didn't have to do
her relatively unsupervised job, she might not be working at her best
efficiency.  But when Danielle ordered something, she was adding that bit of
personal supervision which made Deltas feel needed and useful.  That was
good.
     The Delta smiled as she brought the Cerecan back to Danielle.  "Here you
are, Ma'am," she said.
     "Thank you," Danielle said, smiling.  A lot of Danielle's friends didn't
acknowledge the Deltas at all -- not wanting to single themselves out as
targets.  But Danielle thought it was best to reward good work with a kind
word or two.  But then, she was good with Deltas.
     She drank the Soka and flipped on Awenet News Four.  She listened and
watched the flash of display.  It was a multimedia combination of text,
music, words and graphics.  It went through the news of the day quickly and
easily.  It was a lot more complex than the primal images on the Delta or
Epsilon channels, of course.  But then, Deltas and Epsilons weren't much for
text -- they wanted their sex and--
     A DefSquad Officer entered the compartment door.  Danielle was startled.
What would DefSquad want here?  Of course, he was looking out for her best
interests, but she couldn't see any threat--
     He stopped a few seats over, and leaned in.  He started talking to
Gamma-cit Rhonda Weiss.  Of course.  That hussy -- Danielle always knew she
was up to no good.  She probably was a closet CaLForce sympathizer -- always
a little *too* enthusiastic at Group Meetings.  Always a little *too* ready
to pitch in at Community Events.  That kind of false JoySpread made
Danielle--
     Rhonda burst into tears, and clutched the man next to her.  Danielle
half-expected the DefSquad officer to pull her off -- serve her right -- but
when he reached over, it was to pat her shoulder.  What had that half-Delt--
     The word rippled back, Danielle's car mates looking shocked and
whispering the news on, diffusing it through the Community.  It reached
Danielle like a flood.  "Husband dead in CaLForce explosion...."
     "Oh," Danielle said, shocked.  Rhonda and Stephen were such a wonderful
couple -- the two of them always helping out at the Youth Conclave that extra
hour.  They both lived on Danielle's floor -- and at floor meetings Stephen
would always be ready to go along with in a supportive way.  Danielle bit her
lip -- the whole floor would have to come together in support of Rhonda.
After all, she deserved it -- she'd always been there when others -- why,
just three weeks ago, Rhonda had invited Roderik and Danielle by for a get-
together, right after Roderick's mother had passed away.  She was such a good
person and now this had to happen.
     The Rail stopped, and the EastMoon Complex Residents filed out --
including Danielle, of course.  She watched Rhonda walk out with the DefSquad
officer, and the two got into a waiting DefSquad AirDinghey.  Danielle
watched it go, wishing she could hug Rhonda and not let go.
     Later.  Right now, she had to get upstairs, and get a Ration Pack into
the Reconstituter.  The word from the Kitchen was Synthsteaks and potatoes.
Roderick loved those, even though they were being phased out -- remnants of a
more barbaric time, even if -- like all the food -- they were really soy,
seaweed and algae, with some wheat thrown in.  Kyle might even be home from
the Testing/Training Center, today.  He was preparing to go to Secondary
Training -- it looked like he was going to be a Recep or maybe even an
Applications Maintenance Programmer, and they were talking like he might get
a few days off.  Of course, they'd have to keep an eye on that boy.  Roderick
had laughed off Kyle's watching the Delta Channel Programs late at night --
saying that his EduProctors got the ActId report and took it up with him in
Training anyhow -- and besides, all boys liked to rebel, once in a while.
Danielle knew he was right, but still -- a boy shouldn't watch such things.
     Danielle slipped into the lift with the others.  The ActId scanner
automatically compiled who they were and what floor they were going to, so
she could relax and enjoy the view as the car was lifted up into the sky --
the Plastiglass giving a wonderful view of Houston MidPlex in the early
evening.  It gave her a chance to think about what Roderick had been
discussing with her, more and more.
     Roderick had been bringing up the possibility of having their second
licensed child sometime soon.  "With Kyle thirteen and soon to head off to
Secondary Training, we wouldn't even have to move," he kept saying.  "And
besides, a little girl would be wonderful."  Danielle wasn't sure if now was
the time, though.  She had plenty of time, according to the GeneEngs.
     A little girl would be so cute, though.  They could take her for walks,
and sing to her, and Danielle could teach her about clothes and all sorts of
wonderful things.  Or maybe a cat -- they had dropped in price, and Danielle
kept seeing ads for a beautiful grey tabby stock -- they could have the
kitten in three weeks, easily, with Forced Growth.
     Something to discuss with Roderick, of course.  Decisions were better
shared.


                                      2035
                      A Decidedly Different Superguy Story

                                  Chapter Four
                                       by
                               Eric Alfred Burns




     The Cycles roared out into the midday sun.  Covert Officer Four knew
what he had to do.  DSC had been really clear with it.  They had drilled it
in Simulation for three weeks.  It would go like a charm.
     The third cycle pealed off as they roared between the GroundCars for the
Reserve Building.  This Test Run would work only if they took the building by
surprise.  The tests were useless if people didn't know the attacks were
simulated.  He grinned as the lead cycle fired the first of its minimissiles
into the walls.  The explosion was convincing -- some sort of loud
Firecracker -- and the tracers in the wall caused it to buckle.  No one in
the crowds would know it was fake.
     The screams were almost gratifying.  CO4 opened fire with his Starboard
cannon, streaming tranqshot out in a long line, mowing the populace down.
When they woke up, they'd have a good lesson about how vulnerable they really
were.  He fired a missile at another building, trusting its internal sensors
and the transmitter on the wall would send it into the mock-up.
     They tore into stage two, shooting the thirty millimeters and spreading
into an apparently random pattern of defense.  CO4 saw some citizens keep
their heads and flow into the shelters, but a lot more were panicking --
running into the streets.  Foolish -- were they *sleeping* during
CivDefDrill?
     The fifth bike pealed off -- any second now, the first Delta Formation
of AirSurfurs would head for him, and `kill' him.  These falls were better
choreographed than most of the rest of the drill -- they didn't want to get
hurt--
     The fifth bike exploded into flame, as an AirSurfer strafed from the
rear.  CO4 was so startled he nearly fell off the cycle.  That wasn't in the
plan.  CO5 was screaming over the comlink--
     This was a mistake -- the wrong Delta Formation had responded.  CO4
pressed the call stud for DSC.  He had to call off the--
     As he swerved, he saw the line of Gamma and Delta Citizens he had shot
down.  He saw their bodies -- nearly ripped apart -- and he knew then that
the Delta Formation wasn't making a mistake.
     Before the implication of DefSquad's betrayal could hit CO4, his
training kicked in.  He spun his cycle around, and tried to bark out
information over the link to the lead Cycle -- but the Link was jammed or
down.  Only static echoed.  The AirSurfers had taken down two other cycles,
CO4 noted dispassionately.  He tore off down West Reserve Street, the
Civilian Traffic having been warned off by Awenet.  One AirSurfer followed,
as he expected.  He waited until the AirShip was clear of the others before
he activated his Assisted Combat System and squeezed the brake, spinning the
Cycle around, hard.  He leaned into the turn, fighting to stay upright, even
as the AirSurfer flashed as a Missile Target.  He squeezed the Throttle
Trigger and sent a minimissile into it.  The explosion was decidedly not
fake.  It wouldn't be enough to seriously damage the AirSurfer, but the
AirSurfer's autosystems would land the craft automatically.  That would give
him a chance to get far, far away.
     The AirSurfer dropped, even as CO4 had expected it would.  He sped up,
trying to get out of MidTown so he could lose himself in the access tunnels
leading to the Production Levels.  It was the only chance he had--
     And then he saw the sleek black armor sweep past him and start an arcing
turn to face him.  Noj smite them -- they had activated Extreme Measures
against him.  The BulletProof -- BProof Nine, by the IdentMark -- fired its
APC at him, tearing chunks out of the Cycle's armor.
     CO4 fired two Missiles off, and swerved away even as they kicked the
BulletProof around.  They couldn't hurt him, but they'd skew his flight path,
and maybe give CO4 a chance to escape.
     He saw in the rearview side mirror as the armor righted itself -- the
thrusters were essentially a back unit, which kept the ArmorPilot upright at
all times, and allowed him to concentrate on more important matters.  CO4 saw
the right arm of the armor automatically reach back with mechanized
precision, and lock onto a unit.  The BulletProof's arm swung forward and
began to autotrack.  It was the BulletProof's own Minimissile array -- and
CO4 had no weapons it could bear on the Armor.
     "Sorry about this, Covert Officer Four," the BulletProof said -- her
voice digital through the static of the Comlink.
     Covert Officer Four pondered this as the Cycle exploded beneath him and
he was flung into the fire of darkness.

                                  * * * * * *


     The woman slammed her fist into the Neocrete wall, forming a star
pattern of damage and raising dust.  She screamed as loudly as she could.
     "Noj it," a man -- her closest friend, if that weren't too strong a word
-- said, grabbing her.  "You want to bring the whole Plex down on us?"
     "Damn it, let go," she said, throwing him off.  He tucked into a roll
that was inhumanly precise, and landed on his feet just as quickly.
     "Happy now?" he spat.  "Or do you want to kill me, too?"
     "No -- maybe.  I don't know."  She sank to her knees, almost in despair.
     We put his arms around her from behind.  They were not lovers -- no man
had ever been her lover -- but she trusted him enough that she let her guard
down.  She sank back into the embrace.  "Thirty-seven dead," she moaned.
"Thirty-seven dead and they'll blame us.  Blame me."
     "I know.  And maybe a hundred and thirty-seven tomorrow.  Does that mean
we quit?"
     She was silent.
     "Donna?"
     "No," she said.  "No... but Christ I want to."
     "Guys!" came another voice from outside the room.  "Like -- I'm gonna
make a raid, scope us some kicker Beta Rations.  Clear?"
     "Clear," he said for her.  She let him -- he was her lieutenant, anyhow.
She needed his strength.
     Thirty-seven more.  Thirty-seven more she'd have to scratch on the
tombstone of Double-A.

                                  * * * * * *


     Chalandra's eyes snapped open, and she knew the sun was only cracking
the horizon.  The dreams had nearly consumed her, the night before.  Dreams
of cold entropy.  Dreamed of Decay and Death.  Dreams shot through with the
shackles DefSquad seemed to force on her.
     DefSquad.  She had to call someone today -- maybe even Commandant
Blackstone -- and complain.  They wouldn't let her explain.  They dismissed
her, when she hadn't even *really* been in danger.
     She discovered she was still clutching the SMG.  With the safety off, no
less.  It was good that her undead form didn't move in sleep -- indeed, from
all appearances, it was a corpse during the day.
     She thumbed the five electronic locks on the inside of the coffin.
Manny hated her coffins -- he had wanted her in bed with him.  Badass was a
little looser -- he was happy sharing the box.  But neither understood that
the so called coffin was really a last defense.  It was light tight -- the
deadly rays of the sun couldn't get her inside it.
     She pushed the lid up, and hydraulics lifted it.  This `coffin' was
fireproof, all metal, armored, and sealed hermetically.  There was no reason
it couldn't -- Chalandra hardly needed to breath.
     She rose and stretched, and shucked off her clothes.  She set the gun
down and stepped into the shower.  She set it as hot as the safety systems
would allow -- she let the heat sear into her.  If she soaked in it long
enough, her undead cells would soak the heat up and keep her warm to the
touch for hours.
     After a few seconds, she dispensed some Body Shampoo and began to rub it
into her skin vigorously.  "Display news," she commanded the Audio System.
     "Item one," the Voice-of-Alpha-NewsNet said, "Awesome Amalgamated
reports a growth of consumption by thirteen percent, balancing the growth of
production with minimal surplus, achieving as close to Optimum as was
expected.  Detail?"
     "Next."  Chalandra began to work her thick hair.  It was her best
feature -- and that little part of her that kept going no matter how dark the
world got knew her beauty was an advantage that she couldn't neglect.
     "Item two.  Double-A Safety Systems report that the Paragon Nuclear
Power Plant went into Yellow Alert today. Safety systems shut the plant down
safely, and power levels were stabilized automatically through production by
Solar Satellites.  Detail?"
     "Next."
     "Item three.  Alpha-cit Graham Thomas, Executive President for
Development, declared Awesome Amalgamated's intention to phase out all
remaining Fission and Fusion Plants in lieu of the Solar Satellites by
August, 2037.  Detail?"
     Chalandra let her head pierce the stream of water, washing away the soap
and streaming down her back.  "Next," she muttered.  She wasn't in the mood
to hear how the sun was going to solve all their problems.
     "Item four.  Six men on armed and armored cycles attacked the Chicago
MidPlex Reserve Building today, causing minor damage.  There were thirty-
seven deaths, two-hundred ten injuries, and moderate property damage.
DefSquad repulsed the attach, which the California Liberation Force has
already taken responsibility for.  Detail?"
     Chalandra froze.  CaLForce again.  Always CaLForce.  Always--
     The Reserve Building?
     "Yes," she said, and listened to the full report.  She forced her
revulsion at the attack down, and forced the analytical part of her mind to
listen and process what she was hearing.  At the end of the report, there was
a recorded speech from Alexandria Goodwin -- one half of Andy Awesome's
children and one of the two so-called Awesome Twins.  Chalandra listened to
it.
     "For too long we have accepted the losses that the California Liberation
Force has inflicted calmly.  Maybe we could bring them back into the
community, we said.  Maybe we can help the,  Well, no more.  I swear to you
-- Awesome Amalgamated will not endure these attacks any longer.  We will
hunt out CaLForce with all the resources at our disposal.  No longer will we
tolerate the loss of life and limb--"
     "End program," Chalandra said.  She shut off the shower, and stepped
into the dryer.  Warm air suffused her body as she combed her hair out.  She
kept thinking....
     What point would a Reserve Building attack be?  There was no
psychological value.  There was nothing to be raided.  The automatic loss of
power would cause the financial records to be flash-dumped, while the backups
automatically replaced them elsewhere in the country.  Awenet wouldn't notice
it and neither would the citizens.
     And why a daytime cycle attack?  It was dramatic, but tactically stupid.
Terrorists were never that stupid -- they couldn't be.  They were taught too
quickly if they were.  And CaLForce were definite professionals.
     But what was the alternative?  DefSquad couldn't be lying....
     `Kidnapping in the First Degree....'
     Chalandra shut off the dryer and stepped out into her apartment.  She
wasn't concerned about peeping toms -- they'd never get near her Apartment,
on the top of Suspire Tower.  Ironically, she had a sundeck meant for nude
sunbathing.  She punched up a meal for the Autosystems to prepare -- the soy
would be processed into a garden salad -- they synthetic blood she survived
on soaking into it and being disguised.  That was for the best -- the stuff
had ended a centuries-long dependence on living beings, but it tasted like
petrol.  She began to dress -- a black kevlar/polymer bodysuit, synthleater
boots, a thick belt--
     She realized she was dressing to go out.  Why?  Her body was on
automatic -- she pieced together its purpose....
     Of course.  She *knew* DefSquad would color the truth.  She wanted to
hear reality.  That meant going out.  That meant finding people and seeing
their side.  It meant legwork.
     It meant becoming a detective again.
     Well, fine.  She'd take an AirDinghey, so her Vampire Bat transformation
wouldn't trigger an ActId alarm again, and she'd go...where?  Who would know
something other than the Data fed to everyone by Awenet?
     Simple -- the people who didn't have Awenet.
     The Pits.
     The Pits were so named because they lived in the access tunnels that
lead to the processing facilities below the Metroplexes.  Processing was kept
down their to minimize environmental impact.  Andy Awesome had managed to
solve the twin problems of economic development and environmental decay --
all through keeping harmful production where it could be environmentally
regulated.  But that was deep below the city.  The tunnels that lead there
were a maze.
     A maze with human rats -- the rats of society, who chewed out a living
despite Double-A.  They would be the only ones who would know....  At least,
they'd be the only ones who would know how she could find CaLForce, and maybe
some answers.

                                  * * * * * *


     Kenji watched the Vid, as it played the movie.  It was a new movie, all
about an boy and girl who fell in love but he was a gamma and she was a beta
so of course in the end they didn't do anything.  But he died for her because
after all, you were supposed to sacrifice yourself for the community, right?
And the Heads were more important than the feet.  You could live without a
foot but not a head so it had to be the gamma who dies and not the beta that
was simple.
     Kenji hadn't meant to sacrifice himself.  He had come here for help and
now he was locked up he was always locked up and he was alone all the time
for safety purposes they said but it meant that no one would ever talk to him
he wasted help not to be abandoned what was WRONG WITH THEM?
     Kenji scream, and slammed his fist into the Awesomtonium Wall.  Fire and
Radiation burst all around him as he let the fit take hem, slamming his super
strong form against the walls even as the radiation caused the Awenet Screen
to go all static.  "LET ME OUT!!!!" he screamed, crying.  "DON'T YOU
UNDERSTAND ME?  IT'S NOT MY FAULT!!!!"
     He fell to his knees sobbing, even as the gas flooded the room, killing
his consciousness.  "It wasn't my fault," he whimpered, before the blackness
came again.


<<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>>