🚀 go-pugleaf

     The sun burned harshly in the cloudless sky, and the man wiped his brow
before replacing his hat.  He continued to walk, taking slow steps, mindful
of the weakness he felt in his body.
     He was dying.  The thought brought a sense of relief to his mind.
     Beside him, his faithful coffeeburro walked, matching his pace.  The
coffeeburro was dying as well, but not for the same reason that the man was.
Both had given their all in defense of their country and its number one
legal export.  They had earned their rest, and the gratitude of a nation,
and would be remembered for generations to come.
     A lift home would have been nice, though.
     Still, it was a good day to walk.  The coffee fields stretched out into
the distance, and workers moved among the plants, picking the finest beans.
The coffee grinder wheel of life continued to turn, and it gave him peace.
     He became conscious of a sound, somewhere in the sky, above the call of
birds and the distant sounds of machine gun fire from a couple fields over.
He took off his hat and looked up, in time to see a psychadaelic VW minibus
streak through the sky.
     Despite its distance, he could tell that it had seen better days.  Its
paint was discolored, it was billowing black smoke, and a door was lashed
shut with thick rope.  It disappeared behind some hills, but the man was
confident that he knew its destination.
     "Kids," Juan Valdez muttered.  "Always in a hurry."
     His coffeeburro, Andy, brayed, which Juan took to indicate agreement.

                                    -<=*=>-

                              RADIAN & SHADEBEAM
                                  Episode 35
                  (Just Because You're Paranoia..., part one)
                                 "El Cafecito"
                                      by
                                 Gary W. Olson

                                    -<=*=>-

     "Hmmmm," Shadebeam said, as she looked out the window.  "It *looks* like
the right Earth.  I see...pollution...modern metropolises...some drug wars in
that field over there..."
     "Another victory for ZEN NAVIGATOR!" Zen Navigator announced.
     "No it isn't," Akane Moroboshi, widely famous (and infamous) as Radian,
told him.  "You said you'd guide us to the One-Shoed Man."
     -Close enough, I think,- Kyoko commented.  -Have you been able to connect
up with HAL again?-
     "Not yet," Akane replied.  "I'll wait until we disembark to try."
     "We could be in the future," Shadebeam hypothesized.  "There were a lot
of ships out there -- the Yesj, the Super-Doubletalk-Fortress-1, that office
building we mooned, that satellite we mooned..."
     "Guess we'll see," Akane said.
     -Whenever we are, I'll just be glad to get off of this bus,- Andro purred
grouchily from Shadebeam's lap.  -The incense is making me ill.-
     Shadebeam scratched behind Andro's ears, and prepared for the landing.
She glanced over to her twin, who was looking out the window, a silent,
thoughtful look in her eyes.  Her body was here, but her mind was still five
centuries in the past, Shadebeam decided.
     It wasn't fair, really.  She wasn't the one who crash landed in northern
France.  She wasn't the one who had to work in a squalid inn while Zen
smithied replacement parts for his minibus.  She wasn't the one who had had
to entertain twenty suave, muscular, extremely virile french soldiers to keep
them from discovering where she and Zen had hidden the minibus...
     Well, okay, perhaps it was fair.  Still, it was rather offputting.
     A jolt went through the minibus, as its wheels touched the dirt trail.
They were hurtling at well over two hundred miles per hour, and Zen seemed
entirely unconcerned.  Even when the minibus overshot the hairpin turn
and flew end over end off the peak of a steep grassy hill, he seemed
unperturbed.
     There was another jolt, as the minibus landed and rolled over several
times, finally rolling onto its wheels.
     It was then that Zen decided to apply the brake.  The minibus stopped,
and Shadebeam, Andro, and Akane extracted themselves from the overhead
compartments.
     "We've stopped!" Zen told them, helpfully.
     Shadebeam glared at him, and pushed open the side door of the minibus,
after using a minor spell to dissolve the rope that held it closed.  Akane
picked up Andro in one arm and two bags in the other, and made her way to
the front of the bus.
     "Thanks for helping us," she said, after kissing him on the cheek.  "I've
got a feeling we'll meet again."
     Shadebeam helped her out of the minibus, and shut the door behind her.
The minibus started up again, taking off down a different dusty trail, in
an apparently random direction.
     *That was an experience,* China understated.
     -Now what?- Kyoko asked.  -I don't suppose we'll find any clues in this
remote South American rot-poor excuse for a ramshackle village...-
     "You never know," Akane said, as she and Shadebeam looked at the thin,
wooden buildings around them, all of which looked as though a strong breeze
would disintegrate them into their composite molecules.
     Their eyes stopped.
     Not ten feet away from them, the One-Shoed Man was regarding them, with
a very startled look on his face.
     "Another victory..." a voice cried, from the distance, "...for ZEN
NAVIGATOR!"
     "Get him!" Akane yelled.  The One-Shoed Man, wisely, ran in the opposite
direction.

                                    -<=*=>-

     Special Special Agent Karina Selanova watched the computer projection of
the descent arc, as she sipped her black coffee.  The colors of the graphic
displays, from this and dozens of other Mega-Intelligence Bureau computer
systems, were the only thing that lit the monitoring room.
     "We got initial contact from satellite Epsilon Nixon, over New Delhi,"
Special Agent Donald Sutherland said, conscious that he was talking to fill
the silence that had descended.   "Per standard operating procedure, its
descent arc was calculated and monitored by satellite and ground stations.
The data has been combined to derive an estimation of their destination: a
small village in a remote section of Colombia."
     "Colombia," Selanova said.  "Interesting.  Has the craft been positively
identified as being Zen Navigator's minibus?"
     "Yes, sir," Sutherland replied.  "It fits that profile, and the profile
of a ship from Planet X."
     "Zen buys his buses from there," Karina replied.  "Still, Zen's been
spotted taking off and leaving from Earth at the same exact time before.  Is
there any way to be certain that this is the minibus we're after?"
     "Epsilon Nixon took several high speed photographs of the craft as it
passed," Sutherland said.  "I'll load one of them up now."
     The image of the descent arc disappeared, to be replaced by a fuzzy image
of a psychadaelic VW minibus hurtling towards Earth at speeds that VW minibuses
were not famous for attaining.
     "Magnify and enhance," Karina said.  Automatically, the picture enlarged,
and some details were visible.
     "Looks like there's someone visible in the window..." Sutherland said.
     "Two of the other windows, as well," Karina added.  "See if you can
enhance the picture enough to get their faces."
     Sutherland went to work, and the picture expanded some more, with the
M.I.B. systems calculating and adding resolution data based upon the data
already available from the picture.  When it was done, it had a crisp, clear
picture of the occupants of the minibus.
     It wasn't showing their faces, however.
     "What...are they doing?" Karina asked.
     "I believe," Sutherland said, slowly, "that they are...or were, I should
say...mooning the satellite."
     "All three of them?" Karina asked.  "Isn't Zen supposed to be driving?"
     Sutherland didn't answer, since the question was rhetorical, and not worth
answering even if it hadn't been.
     "That's them, all right," Karina snapped.  "Alert Atkinson."
     "Yes, sir!" Sutherland exclaimed.  "Shall I contact our agents in the area
as well?"
     "No," Karina said.  "We're not going to capture them."
     Sutherland blinked.
     "I beg your pardon?" he asked, finally.
     "You have your orders," Karina told him.  "Have Atkinson contact me as
soon as you're able to raise him."
     "Yes, sir," Sutherland said, as Karina Selanova turned and exited the
monitoring room.

                                    -<=*=>-

     "Where'd he go?" Shadebeam asked, as she landed next to Radian.  "I
saw him go around this corner..."
     "Me too," Akane said.  Their eyes combed the ramshackle huts and carts,
looking for any sign of movement.  There was plenty of movement, but,
unfortunately, it all belonged to the assorted burros, llamas, dogs, goats,
weasels, and penguins that either stood tethered to a cart or were allowed
to roam free.
     "Um, Akane..." Shadebeam said.  "Why are there penguins here?"
     "Are those penguins?" Akane asked.  "They look like puffins."
     "Well, why are they here?  This is an equatorial climate."
     Indeed, as if to emphasize this point, several penguins wearing loud
hawai'ian shirts waddled past, wearing large sombreros to keep the sun from
their beady little eyes.
     "Don't worry about it," Akane said.  "Zero's hiding somewhere around
here.  He's not getting away this time."
     They wandered between the assorted livestock, domesticated animals,
varmints, waterfowl, and wheeled contraptions, searching thoroughly.
     "One of us should go upstairs, to make sure he isn't taking off to
the hills," Shadebeam suggested.
     "You go," Akane said.  "I'll look around here."
     -Can you get me some catnip while you're out?- Andro suggested.  Shadebeam
flipped him off before casting her flight spell, which allowed her to rise into
the air above the village.
     There was no sign of movement...at least, no human movement...in the hills
surrounding the village.  Shadebeam closed her eyes, letting her dream-sight
take over.  Below, she saw her sister, prowling at ground level, radiation
levels at the maximum level she could attain without being forced to release
any.  She could see the villagers, as well, inside their abodes, staying well
away from the windows.
     She opened her eyes, and looked down at the village.
     Suddenly, and without warning, she saw it.
     "Hey, Akane!" Shadebeam exclaimed, as she descended towards the soil.
"Check this out!"  As she landed, she heard her sister approach, and then stop
as she saw what Shadebeam had seen.
     "It's...moderately large," she commented, at last.
     *Reasonably well-sculptured,* Symon added.
     -A fair amount of detail,- Kyoko noted.
     *It's a statue,* China said.
     -Made entirely out of...coffee beans?- Andro purr-questioned.
     "No question about it," Akane said.  "It's a statue dedictated to Juan
Valdez, and his coffeeburro, Andy.  I remember reading about their battles
against the Greenslimy Aliens and Dr. Sleaze back before my brother, Rad,
got his superpowers.  I heard he retired several years ago."
     "Looks like the locals are rather fond of him," Shadebeam said.  "I
wonder..."
     "Wonder no more, trespassers!" a voice shouted.  Before Akane or
Shadebeam could turn or even lift their arms, a thick, tightly knit macrame
blanket was dropped over them.  Quickly, the excess blanket was wrapped
around them, until they were securely bound and hoisted off the ground.
     -Ack,- Andro acked.  -I'm being crushed!-
     *What do we do?* Shadebeam asked.  *I can't move my hands, and if I
open my mouth, I'll taste macrame.*
     *These strings are far tougher than ordinary macrame string,* Akane
sent.  *Hopefully, we won't be bound long.*

                                    -<=*=>-

     Dar placed his spare robes in the suitcase, and placed his high school
yearbook on top of them.  To the right of them he tucked a couple Pratchett
novels and the Crowley book he had been working on.  Some spare socks...a
few changes of underwear...some film for his camera...
     He stepped back, and regarded the suitcase.  When he began packing,
he would have sworn he would have had to use one of his Spells of Interior
Warping to get everything he'd need in.  But the last thing he wanted to do
these days was cast a spell, so he carefully pared down his list of things
to take to the essentials.
     It was almost too easy to do.
     His eyes turned, to regard the coffin that rested atop the sofa.  Inside,
the vampire Katsu Marisi slept, awaiting the night so that he could arise
once again and nip off to Wacker Drive to feed off a hapless baseball fan
before returning to continue his lessons in magic.
     Little did he know that there would be no lessons that night, unless
Hecate decided to hold them without him.
     Hecate.  His fingers trembled as he shut his suitcase.  She had been the
first to touch him in over a decade, the first ever since he had left home on
his quest to become the Sorcerer Superlative and conquer the world.  Dar,
being a dedicated non-hedonist, put his goals ahead of what would have brought
him transient pleasure, and had, for a while, found satisfaction.
     But his satisfaction evaporated, along with his title as Sorcerer
Superlative.  Through the Magic Wars, and the Songs of Darkness, and finally
the Industrial Revolution, his power base had diminished, as had Hecate's,
until they had found themselves living together with but a single pupil.
Dar's once iron will lapsed, and he allowed himself to be seduced by his
former enemy (though, to be fair, the sex was good.  Very good.  Enough to
put most masters of the Kama Sutra to shame, even).
     She was away, this afternoon, gone to a flea market in Decatur where she
hoped to find some good second-hand spell books.  When she returned, she
would find him gone.  Furthermore, his Spells of Locational Bafflement would
ensure she could not simply home in on his location and spirit him back.
Good though she was, he was stronger.
     The penthouse apartment, overlooking downtown Chicago, was fully paid up
for the next ten years.  He considered signing the lease over to her, but
decided not to.  One day, he might even return.
     He hefted the suitcase in his left hand, testing the weight.  As he
opened the door to the hallway, he stopped and looked at his image in the
full length mirror on the far side of the room.  At twenty-seven, he looked
a lot younger than he felt.  His long black hair was clipped behind him, and
he wore wire-rimmed glasses to disguise his well-known face.  For the first
time in ages, he wore simple, civilian clothing (a white, featureless t-shirt
and faded blue jeans) instead of the complex, colorful, yet incomprehensibly
tacky robes of his trade.
     Today, and henceforth, he wouldn't be Dar, master evil sorcerer and bane
of the nether dimensions.  Now, he would simply be Darwin Aleister Shaw,
traveler.
     He hefted his suitcase again and stepped through the door, closing it
behind him.  The elevator arrived moment later, and he was gone.

WHERE IS DAR TRAVELING TO?
WHO HAS CAPTURED OUR HEROINES AND THEIR CAT?
WHY DID THEY USE MACRAME TO DO IT?
WHAT WILL JUAN HAVE TO SAY ABOUT IT?
WHAT WILL KARINA HAVE TO SAY ABOUT IT?

Questions come, and questions go, but Superguy remains.

        Gary W. Olson         <^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v
swede@drycas.club.cc.cmu.edu  >  "If you're so special, why aren't you dead?"
     swede@drycas.bitnet      <      - The Breeders, "I Just Wanna Get Along"