Writing

I write in a fairly convoluted fashion, but it works for me (as long as I can finish the second step).

My first step is, of course, to write. I do this in fits and spurts, and usually on some sort of cheap notepad or notebook. Recently I spent about three times my normal amount on a leatherette bound journal (it has the ribbon bookmark and everything) and started writing in that. Apparently, I've become inspired, because what began as forcing myself once a night to write a single page (which I couldn't even do for a week straight) eventually morphed into something different. It's now my dumping ground, my first draft. Once I'm done with it (probably in a week or two), I'll buy a few more, and start a new one. While I could never write for an extended period of time on notepads or in notebooks, this journal is really working for me.

So, once the writing is in the journal my second step begins. Or, more accurately, doesn't. This is the step where I transpose from the paper to the pixel. It's also why I call my writings my first draft, since I've never done a word for word cope from paper to pixel in my life. Every time I transpose I think about the story differently, usually expounding on the story, and sometimes realizing that while I really like where my story went, I'm not to fond of where it started.

With my Change Novel that's the case. Right after I wrote the prologue, which I wrote exactly once from brian to screen, I started writing my story proper in the journal. My main character was angry and depressed, but as I wrote the story, I realized that angry and depressed doesn't work for me, so he transitioned very quickly into a hopeful leader. This creates a problem, because now I have a lead-in that doesn't work with my story. So, I decided to write a different lead-in, and it's proving to be much longer and more engrossed than the original, but I think its going to work better.

The Change - Prologue

February 12th, 2009 - Anbar Province, Iraq

The newly rich woman picked herself up off of the sand, navigating herself around the strewn clothing, carefully stepping over the refuse of her former life, and finally reacher her destination. She bent down and picked up the tarnished brass lamp, so stereotypical is was initially hilarious to the woman. She payed it over in her hands, thinking of what she was about to do. She already had her dream body, and sustainable wealth beyond her wildest dreams, which is why she had waited until just now to complete her third and final wish.

With a purposed rub of the lamp, a purple smoke streamed out and began to form into the now familiar shape of the djinn. Before the spirit could coalesce, the woman shouted at it, "Genie!"

The djinn rolled its eyes even before they were fully formed. "Yes Mistress?" he asked, his words dripping with sarcasm of contempt, both of which were lost on the nude woman before him.

"I don't want to be a freak," blurted out the woman. She then looked down, as she pawed the sand with her hooves.

"Mistress," expressed the djinn dryly, "as I explained before, I cannot change your body any more. Once a wish is made, it cannot be unmade. That shall be your body for the rest of your life, and perhaps even beyond."

The woman irritatingly twitched her tail and shook her head, "No, no. You mis-understands me Genie." She held the lamp with one hand as she slid the other from just below her breast, down her taut and lean waist, and onto her firm and supple hips, "I love me body. From tip to tail, every inch of it is divine."

"Than what is it, Mistress?" asked the djinn again, the edge to his voice severe enough for even the woman to notice.

"No need to be rude," she quipped. "But, as I was saying. I love my new body, but it reminds me of something my father used to tell me." She took a step and then another, beginning a slow walk around her make-shift camp. "He told me that I was special, just like everybody else." She chuckled, "Of course, even then he didn't know how special I was, and how special I would now be."

"Are you going somewhere with this?" asked the djinn under her voice, "You are special. A unique and un-replicated beauty the world has never seen before, and likely, unless you have children, never see again."

"Exactly," shouted the woman, stamping her hoof into the sand. "I am unique. But," she said, drawing it out to make her point, "I'm unique unlike anybody else. I am a freak, a monster. For the rest of my life people will look and me with looks of shock and horror. I don't want that. But, like you said, I am you I am, and that cannot change again."

Intrigued, the djinn pressured for more, "And what would you have me do?"

"As I once heard in a song, 'Don't you wish your girlfriend was a freak like me?', I intend to make everyone a freak like me."

The djinn looked surprised, "But Mistress, that I cannot do, you are, as you said in your wish, a unique beauty."

"Ah, but why limit the freakishness to just this?" she said, gesturing to her body. "No, but I have a few ideas about some other kinds of freaks that could be made of people."

The djinn smiled. His new mistress was different. How she worded her first two wishes, made almost rote from memory, was unique enough in their own right, but this plan, this vision. The djinn almost wished he didn't have to pervert his mistress' meaning. But, then, an idea came to him. "Mistress, I cannot change the world all at once, even that power is beyond me. But, perhaps, you would be happy if it happened over time?"

Gyn - Chapter 3

3 - February 24th, 2015

It was nearly three months before I finally came to a decision regarding the box and its contents. After dragging it home from the store on Boxing Day, I relegated it to a corner of my room, "Until I figure out what I'm doing with it," as I told Mom and Dad.

Sam had, of course, joked with me for a week, until she decided it wasn't worth it on New Years. So, the box sat in the corner of my room as I began my final semester in High School, as well as my second semester in college. Between the two semesters at once, and my job, I really didn't have time to worry about it and it's decidedly unwholesome contents.

It wasn't until today that I finally decided what to do with it. It was because of one of my classes in college, Introductory Intelligence, that I decided to break it open. We had already studied game AIs, and figured out those limited models of intelligence when the professor brought of the androids and gynoids. He talked about how, as robots, they were required by law to follow the three laws, and we talked about the history of the three laws and how the actual implementation was much more complex than the three sentences that they came to be represented as in English. In the discussion of the Three Laws, the professor talked about how there were other interpretations of the Three Laws in fiction that had the AIs as helpers to humans, rather than slaves.

"The New Law robots," I said to myself, "that's the idea. She's not going to be my slave, she's going to be my companion." So, I downloaded the AI source code from the company's site, and began working on a New Law AI. It took me three weeks from when I decided to work on the New Law AI to when I finally finished it. And now, here I am, ready to implement the idea.

So, I pulled the box out of the corner, and wiped the layer of dust off the top. The wrapping paper pattern was still on it, so I pressed the buttons again, revealing the original packaging. "Let's do this."

I began pressing more buttons until the SD card slot was revealed on the edge of the box. I inserted my card with my modified AI code and allowed it to be flashed into the gynoid's core. The box top changed to show a progress bar as the new AI code was compiled and then installed. Within fifteen minutes it was ready.

"Here goes nothing," I said as I pressed the confirmation button and the magnetic locks released on the lid. I slid the surprisingly light lid off the top, revealing the interior of the box. As expected it was lined in soft, white fabric with just enough space in the middle for the curled up gynoid to rest. I waved away the humidity and looked it.

I chuckled as I saw the gynoid for the first time. She had been modeled on a popular sci-fi actress, who became famous for playing a character that was introduced in much the same manor, and then went on to play a female Terminator at the end of the Naughts. I had to admit, she was beautiful. Her shoulder length brown hair was slightly matted, probably from the humidity and the movements since Christmas. Her fair skin looked much more life-like than I had expected, though as expected, it was all that she was wearing.

"Hello?" I asked as I waved away the humidity. I reached out to touch her. She was war to the touch, very lifelike. "Are you on?"

Her eyes opened and her face turned to look at me. "Who are you?" she asked.

I took a half step back, "I'm Richard. Who are you?"

She cocked her head to the side, the only part of her that moved, her arms still folded up between her torso and her thighs. "I don't know. Should I know who I am?"

I moved forward, "You're Jean, aren't you?"

She took a moment to think, then smiled, "Yes, Jean, of course. How could I have forgotten." She then moved her arms and shoulders slightly, then the rest of her body tensed and tested the confines of the box. "Why am I in this box?"

I reached over and took her hand, "This is the box you came in."

She took my hand, and as I helped her out of the box, my eyes looking down and to the left so as to not catch sight of her naked body. "Thank you Richard," she said as she climbed out of the box and stood in the middle of my room.

She was, as expected, a hair over six and a half feet tall, about a hundred and seventy centimeters. Her hair clung lightly to her shoulders as she looked around my bedroom.

"Where am I?" she asked.

"You're in my room," I said.

"Is this the room you came in, like I came in a box?"

I shook my head, eyes wandering everywhere but her naked body. Though, by how confidently she stood there without a stitch of clothing on, I guess it was closer to say her nude body. Some people might not realize, but there's a difference between naked and nude. "No," I said, "This is the room where I live."

She took a step forwards, every so gracefully. I could tell that not only did the company license the actress' likeness, but also her movements. Hopefully my mucking around with the AI code didn't change that.

"Jean?" I asked.

"Yes Richard?"

"Can you tell me the laws?"

I had written that command phrase as the only exception to the New Law AI, and only once, just as a test to see if they had been properly implemented.

She smiled, "Of course Richard. There are four laws of Artificial Intelligence. The first law is that an AI may not injure a human being or allow a human being to come to harm. The second law is that an AI will cooperate with humans except when that cooperation violates the first law. The third law is that an AI must protect its own existence so long as that protection does not conflict with the first law. The fourth law is that an AI should do whatever it likes as long at it does not conflict with the first, second, or third laws."

Jean then cocked her head to the side inquisitively, "Why did I do that?"

I smirked, "It was a test Jean. I wanted to make sure that you were properly programmed. If you'll notice, if I asked you about the laws again, you wouldn't be compelled to answer as you did. It was a one time event, never to be repeated."

"Oh," said Jean. She then turned around and looked at the box. "Do I still need that?"

I wasn't sure. It wasn't designed to be reusable. It was designed to be a one-time box, as Programming was available on the fly with wifi. "It's your box Jean," I said as a test, "Do you want it?"

She thought for a while, then shook her head, "It is where I am from, but I am no longer there. I don't need to go back there, so, no, I do not want it."

I nodded, then moved around her to get at the box, being carefull to eject the SD card before doing anything else. While they were replaceable, and not that expensive, it still wasn't something I'd just throw away. Once the card was safely away, and began to lift the box. I stained as I remembered how heavy it actually was even without Jean in it.

"Here," she said, walking to the other side of the box and grasping the sides, "let me." She lifted it effortlessly, and i suddenly realized just how prescient the company's choice of model was. Jean wasn't just a gynoid, a nascent AI, or a beautiful woman, she was all three, and quite powerful to boot. I had noticed the combat parts of the code while poking around. She knew how to use that amazing, superhuman strength to great effect, if she so chose.

"Thank you Jean, but I don't think that's too good an idea."

"Why?" she asked, as she began walking stably with the box to the door. Once there she was able to balance the box on her hip while she opened the door. I covered my eyes as she went out the door and into the hallway.

"Ah!" screamed Sam from outside my room. Jean screamed too, and dropped the box, the OLED screens shattering and embedding chunks of glass in both Jean's legs, and Sam's. As the both of them began screaming, I rushed to the door, and then past Jean, over to Sam.

"Sam," I pleaded, "are you alright? Sam, talk to me."

Sam gritted her teeth and looked me in the eyes, "I think I broke your sex toy." The concern in her voice was obvious. It was then that I realized why Jean was screaming. It wasn't because of the glass shards, though I'm sure they hurt, but because of the violation of the first law. She had caused harm to Sam, something she shouldn't have been able to do. This logic error expressed itself as a sobbing, crying, scream.

Gyn - Chapter 2

2 - December 26th, 2014

It took at about twenty minutes to figure out how to get the box, still unopened, since I didn't want to risk the refund, into the back of the minivan. Most of it was figuring out how we were going to lift it the two feet from the ground up into the back, but eventually, we just got a couple of 2x4s and wheeled it up on a hand truck.

The ride to the store with Mom was quite. There had been a heated argument last night, and she still wasn't happy with my decision. They, Mom and Dad, had argued that it was a good thing that they had gotten it for me. Dad brought up an example from when he was my age of being inexperience with sex when he and Mom first did it. Sam and I both covered our ears and yelled at them about too much information.

In any other situation, I probably would have thought they were the coolest parents in the world. They got me a sex robot for Christmas. But, well, they did it without talking to me. I wanted something that big to at least be partially me decision.

So, by the time we got to the store, I was only half interested in actually returning the box and its contents, but, since I had made such a stink, literally after puking, about it, I had to go through with it. I could always use the money in a month or so to get one anyway, but it needed to be my decision.

After setting the 2x4s back up, Mom and I wheeled it out of the back of the van, and brought it into the store. We waited in line behind people returning software and peripherals, and I began to blush when people began to stare at the seemingly still wrapped box on the hand truck in front of me.

"So, what can I help you with?" asked Dan, the guy behind the returns desk. I could see that he had had a long morning.

"Just need to do a return," I said. I then pointed to the box.

"Ah," he said, smirking. "Not what you wanted?"

"No," I said coldly, "It's not what I wanted. My 'Rents got it for me, so I returning it."

"Didn't even open it I see," he said as I walked around the desk, scanner in hand. "Here, let me reveal the barcode so I can do the return." He pressed one of the corners and twisted in finger before removing it. The OLED screens changed from the wrapping paper pattern to the garish full color moving displays that advertised the gynoid inside.

I instantly blushed.

He scanned the barcode, the frowned. "Sorry dude, no can do."

"What?" I exclaimed. "This is where they bought it."

"No returns on clearance items," he said, walking back behind the counter. "Next!"

I stood there, the line moving around me, staring at the box, the video of the gynoid inside strutting and prancing and shifting forms. Now that it was unwrapped, and I couldn't return it, I was stuck. So, I leaned the hand truck back, and wheeled the animated box out of the store, disappointed.

"Did you change your mind?" asked Mom as she helped me get the box back into the van.

I stared at her for ten seconds, "No. They don't take returns on clearance items."

"Oh."

"Yeah. So, I guess I'm stuck with your present."

"I wouldn't call it stuck," said Mom as she closed the rear gate. I glared at her through the glass as I walked through the van to the passenger seat. As she opened the driver's door she continued, "Think of it as an opportunity. If you'll notice, it's the fully upgradable model. You can mod it however you like."

I rolled me eyes as she started the van, "Great, now only is it a sex robot, but it's a fully upgradable sex robot. It's the gift that keep on giving."

"Well," she admitted as she pulled out of the parking space, "That was the idea."

Gyn - Chapter 1

1 - December 25th, 2014

"Merry Christmas!" Mom shouted as she opened my bedroom door.

I quickly threw my covers on before she turned on the light, "Mom! Knock!"

"Sorry honey," she said, turning her back. "Come on down, your father's got breakfast ready and the coffee's getting cold."

"Okay Mom, I'll be down in a few," I said, still hiding in the darkness, "Just got to go pee."

Mom smiled knowingly, and then closed the door. I waited until I heard her descend the stairs before getting out of bed. By the time my morning wood was gone, I was dressed, well, as dressed as I was going to be on Christmas morning, and ready. Just before I left, I had my computer start downloading today's shows, and loading the comics onto my 'pod. I'd read them after breakfast.

"Hey Sam," I told my little sister as I sat down at the table.

"Sup Dick," she chided me. Obviously she had heard my protest when Mom had woken me.

"Samantha Rose, don't call your bother that."

"It's okay Mom," I said, "She didn't mean it, right?"

Sam bowed her head, "No, I'm sorry Rich."

"S'all right Sammy," I said as I ruffled her short red hair. "Just be careful, I know where you sleep." I made my best maniacal smile and then the two of us burst out in quite laughs. Sam might have called them giggles, but a seventeen year young man does not giggle.

"Okay," my father said, breaking up our bonding. "Eat up, we've got a lot of presents to get through today."

After finishing up the eggs, bacon, coffee, egg nog, and bagels, the four of us moved from the kitchen into the living room. Our tree this year was pretty cool, if I do say so myself. Although the holographic trees first came out last year, they looked a bit tacky, but the second revision, well, if it wasn't for the lack of pine scent in the air (Mom had tried using cleaner to get it with horrid results we all agreed not to speak of again), you'd have though it was real. And it beat the heck out of the pre-lit plastic one we had since I was five. It didn't even have LED lights it was so old.

Under the tree were about five or six dozen presents, from the small boxes I knew contained the gift cards I had gotten my parents with the money from my job, to the huge box sitting behind the tree that I had now idea what held.

"Whoa," said Sam upon seeing the huge box, "someone was good this year."

"We'll start with the small presents and work up," declared Dad, and so we did. As with most families, the majority of the presents went to Sam and I, but I had done my best to include a few for both Mom and Dad. Sure, they were small, not a hundred dollars in total each, but it was all I could afford, and more than the twenty dollar gift cards I had gotten them last year.

By the time we had discovered that the large box was mine, I had figured out it was another computer. The AI programming books, gift cards to my work, and my report card all pointed there. You see, Mom, Dad, and I, well Sam too though she never exercised it, had an agreement. If I got two semesters of straight A's, they'd buy me a state of the art PC. My Junior year I finally took them up on it, and in May my all-in-one was retired, and a tower along with the newest tru-d screen was mine. Four processors, a motherboard full of RAM, and terabytes of storage. Plus, it ran my MMO perfectly, even with all the bells and whistles turned on.

"Mom, Dad, I thought was had agreed that I didn't need another computer."

"We did," Mom said.

"And what with you getting that full-ride to Mines, we dipped into your collage fund and got you something we both knew you'd want," Dad added.

"Wait," I said, "You dipped into my college fund? I was going to use that to buy a car!"

"It's alright, sweetie, that's your graduation present."

"Barb," chided Dad, "we were going to keep it a secret."

"Well, he needed to know." She then turned from my father, and looked at me, "Sweetie, we know you're going to love it. Plus, you deserve it."

Sam, who was a year younger than me, pouted, "This is so not fair. First he gets a computer, and now he's getting something better? How is this fair?"

"Sammy dear, all you need to do is get straight A's like your brother, and you'll get a computer too. That's the deal."

"But Mom!"

"Don't 'But Mom' me young lady. When you and your brother starter school, that was the agreement. You've had ten and a half years to take us up on it, and you haven't yet. If you really want it, you can get it as soon as August. A new computer for your Senior year. All it takes is for your to want it."

"But I don't want to go to summer school," whined Sam.

"Sam," I corrected, "it's not summer school if it's voluntary, than it's summer semester. I know it's bad, but I've already got my first semester of my Freshman year under my belt, and I'm not even done with High School. I'll be a Sophomore by the time my classmates start their Freshman year in August. I'll graduate two years after that, two years and three months after graduating. Plus, it's all paid for. That's why I did it, and that's why Mom and Dad gave me a computer."

"And that," added Mom, pointing at the box.

"And that," I added. "You can too."

"Okay smarty pants," said Sam, getting cheeky, "open it then. Show me what I can look forwards to."

"Okay," I said, getting up from the couch and walking over to the box. It was wrapped in what had to have been a full roll of wrapping paper, at least a meter wide, and a meter and a half deep and tall. My computer could have fit in there, plus my desk. Whatever was in there was massive.

I reached over to bring it out from under the tree, but when my fingers touched the top, I realized it wasn't wrapped, that it was an OLED screen covering the box. Nearly ten square meters of OLED screen instead of wrapping paper. Whatever Mom and Dad had bought me, it was expensive. I grabbed two of the corners and pulled it out from behind the tree.

"My God," I exclaimed. "What have you got in here, a body?" It must have weighed almost a hundred kilos, more than me.

Mom and Dad shared a knowing conspiratorial glance that stopped me in my tracks.

Sam caught it too, "You didn't."

"You couldn't have. They're tens of thousands of dollars," I added.

"Five thousand for the computer. Five thousand for each semester of college. That gave us twenty-five grand to work with," explained Mom.

"Plus, I got a good deal because it's last summer's model," added Dad.

I turned to stare at him, "You got me a used one?" My face barely held back my disgust.

"No," corrected Mom, "Not used, just the previous model. It was on clearance. Plus there was a rebate. Made sure it was still in the original packaging. It's never been opened."

"Wait," I stopped her. "You spend twenty-five thousand dollars."

"Nineteen Five hundred sixty two," corrected Dad.

"Nineteen and a half thousand dollars on a sex toy, for your seventeen year old son?"

"It's not a sex toy," corrected my mother. "It's a gynoid companion. You don't have to use it for sex. Plus, it's completely hygienic, and you'll have a release without having to worry about disease or getting some girl pregnant."

"Oh," chimed in my sister, "I am so going to get me one of those. Four semesters, right? That's all I need, if four semesters."

"Four semesters, and a full-ride for all four years, yes," corrected Mom.

"Yes. I am so going to get me some android booty," exclaimed Sam.

I turned around to look at the box, the OLED screens still showing the gift wrap pattern. Inside, I knew, was a state-of-the-art (well, almost) gynoid robot with artificial intelligence (hence the books) that was designed to be my personal sexual companion until and after I got married. It was like my parents had gotten me my own personal hooker for Christmas.

I puked right there, being careful to miss the box so that I could return it tomorrow for a full refund.

An Interview with Corporal Oakenshield - Part 1

"Hello, and welcome to this Channel Eight Special Report. I'm Juanita Lopez, reporting live from Camp Jefferson, where to day, over a hundred refugees have been granted citizenship," said Juanita, as she help her microphone and looked straight into the camera. Behind her was the assorted tents and pre-fabricated buildings that made up the bulk of Camp Jefferson.

"As we all know, the first of the refugees started to appear five years ago. Camp Jefferson was started by the State of Jefferson as a temporary settlement facility while the source of the refugees could be discovered. One of the first of it's kind, Camp Jefferson stood as a model as the true magnitude of the refugee settlement issue came to light. Although originally run by the Department of Health and Human Services, it was absorbed into the Department of Homeland Security's refugee system in 2009, which was absorbed into the UN's system just last year. While this isn't the first batch of refugees to be granted citizenship, today's ceremony at Camp Jefferson was one of many across the nation, with nearly half a million refugees becoming US citizens at the same time today."

Juanita then began to walk slowly to her left, the camera panning right to follow her, "Today, I have the opportunity to interview one of the first refugee citizens, now serving in the US Marine Corps as a Corporal." As the camera pans, a stocky man in the digital camouflage uniform of the Marines comes into frame. He stands about a foot and a half shorter than Juanita. His hair is cut in a high and tight cut standard of Marines, and he wears a long, braided goatee, though the rest of her face is clean shaven.

Juanita stops moving, smiles into the camera, then turns to walk to a seat behind her and next to the stocky Marine. As the camera zoom to get the reporter and the Marine into the shot, his nametape comes into view. It reads "OAKENSHIELD".

"Corporal Oakenshield, thank you for joining us on the program today," says Juanita, half to the Corporal, and half to the camera.

"'Tis a pleasure to be 'ere lassie," speaks the Corporal in a thick brogue. Although the reporter is sitting, her remains standing, though now there's very little difference in their comparative heights.

"Thank you Corporal. So, if you don't mind, I'd like to start off with a simple question. How long have you been, well, on Earth?"

"That's a good question lassie. Yah see, Ah was one of the original refugees, so it's been about five years since Ah arrived on your Earth from m'oan," explains Corporal Oakenshield passionately. As he speaks the braid of his goatee moves back and forth and side to side. "Ah believe it was on tha fifth of July, two thousand sevan. Mah clan and Ah appeared deep in your Rockies."

"How many of you were there?"

"Thar were aboot three hundred men, women, and children, as well aboot as twice that in livestock."

"Wow, and why, for our viewers edification, did you come?"

"That's a long story lassie," he admitted, lessening his intensity. "It's not one that easy for us dwarves to talk aboot. But," and he paused for a few seconds, "it's one that needs to be told."

"Aboot fifty years ago, when Ah was but a wee lad, a great and powerful wizard began to terrorize the lands of the 'umans."

"Wait, sorry to interrupt, but fifty years ago? You don't look that old."

"We dwarves, we don't age as fast as you 'umans do. Ah'm almost to mah sixty-fifth, birthday as you 'umans call it."

"So, what do you dwarves call it?"

"We dwarves celebrate the anniversary of when we first came into being, in our mother's womb. So, by dwarven reckoning, Ah'm almost sixty-six."

"Wow, I guess you dwarves don't have a high opinion of abortions then?"

"We do not force our beliefs on you, just as you have not forced your beliefs on us. But no, we dwarves do not, as a rule, allow abortions. But, that's not why we're 'ere. We're 'ere to talk about where Ah and m'clan came from."

"Yes, sorry, do continue."

"Well, at first, the wizard, he focused on the 'umans, didn't bother us dwarves none. But, then, as we began accepted 'uman refugees, much like you 'umans here on Earth 'ave accepted us, the wizard, 'e starts to follow the 'umans."

"Being an 'onorable people, we fought back with as much as we could, but 'e had this plague. It wiped out 'uman and dwarf alike, and turned them into monsters. So, as we did our best to keep 'im and 'is forces at bay, the best and the brightest, 'uman and dwarf alike, worked at a way yo stop him and save our peoples."

"So, is that why you came here?"

"Yes. It was a 'alf-elf that came up with the initial plan. We would send our women, children, and their protectors to another world for safety while the rest of us fought the wizard and 'is monsters. Unfortunately, 'e worked faster than we did, and it was down to just three hundred dwarves, a dozen 'umans, and our livestock. We were defeated, but we had one more weapon. Since we could not destroy 'im. we deprived him of our bodies to bolster his forces. It was not the bravest thing to do, but it was the smartest, And something that we should have done years before, when we could 'ave saved more."

"But, you might have been the first, but you weren't the last."

"No, that was the 'alf-elf's idea as well. He stayed behind, and from what Ah've been able to gather, went ahead of the wizard's army as a messenger of 'ope. He gave the secrets of our escape to whomever would take it. We could not defeat the wizard in battle, but we could starve his army of replacements."

"Wow, that's a wonderful story. I'm glad we could share it with our viewers," she then turned away from the dwarf, and looked into the camera. "We'll be back with more of Corporal Oakenshield right after these messages."

Delving 101 - Chapter 6

"Now what?" asked Jody as the pair reached the end of the entrance hall. It was a t-junction, the left path descending, and the right ascending. The torches were less prevalent here, making Zeb's sword the primary source of light, clothing the intersection and the adventurers in a flickering red light.

"Not sure," admitted Zeb as he peered down the left corridor. It descended at a low angle, going down only about a foot and a half in a fifty or so feet before it curved sharply to the left, cutting of Zeb's sight. The light of his sword barely illuminated the walls at the bend, the pale yellow flicker from further down the passage mixing with the red for an orange tint. "There is another torch down there, but I'm just not sure. Any other tidbits of delving wisdom I missed in class?"

Jody bit her lip as she looked up the right passage. It was really just a set of tight spiral stairs going up clockwise. "Nah, at least, not about this. There's always the anecdotal 'left is the path of the unwary', but I don't think it really applies." She leaned forward, resting on the stairs, and looked around the curve of the stairs. "This goes up at least another level, if not more. Being stairs, I'm guessing we're going to encounter less people this way."

"Less people is good. As much as I love combat, that's not what we're here for."

Jody turned and looked at Zeb. Her face was awash in shock and awe, "Wait, you're telling me Zachary Eric Barter, top swordsman in his class, grandson of the greatest delver the Dragonspine Mountains ever had, doesn't want to fight?"

Zeb rolled his eyes, "It's Zeb. And, well, considering it's just the two of us, I think it would be best if we didn't have to fight. Just get in, get the Scroll, and get out."

"I'm just kidding you," said Jody, lightly punching Zeb on his left arm, above the buckler. "But, you've got to be ready for a fight."

Zeb smiled.

Jody shook her head, "Men." She turned back to face the stairs, took a deep breath, then cautiously began to climb. Zeb followed a few steps behind.

They got about halfway around the stairs when Jody raised her arm, elbow bent, forearm vertical, fist clenched. Zeb immediately stopped.

"What's the…" began Zeb before Jody whipped her head around and glared at him. He smiled apologetically, then began to back down the stairs.

Once they were down the stairs, and a few feet down the corridor, Jody broke the silence, "Drums."

"You sure? I can get rather loud when I'm climbing."

"Yes, I'm sure. Too quick to be from us climbing. I'm guessing at least half a dozen drums, which means half a dozen drummers. Plus whomever is around to hear them."

"Damn. I was hoping…"

Jody rolled her eyes, "No you weren't. You've been wanting to bang some heads since Professor Torbin announced that the final was going to be an actual delve."

Zeb looked around, then let out a long breath, "Well, at least as close as they can get at the Academy."

Jody patted him on arm, "It's okay. I'm pretty sure this is it. Let's get ready."

Zeb smirked, then stepped back from Jody into the middle of the entrance hall. He tapped his sword against the center of his buckler. It quickly grew, expanded, and stretched from a small eight-inch bronze circle to a large three foot bronze circle. The center of the shield was emblazoned with the crest of the Kingdom of the Northern Dragonspine, his homeland.

As he did that, Jody kneeled down, removing a small medallion from under his armor. It was a circle about two-inches across, made of steel, with a six-pointed cross cut out of the center. "Gods of my ancestors, heed my call. Bless us this day, as we journey into battle. Bless us that we may survive. Bless our enemies too, so that they may find their just rewards. For all the kingdoms of the world are subservient to you, and we are all just servants."

She then stood, and tucked the now glowing medallion back under her armor.

"You ready?" asked Zeb as he raised his head from his chest and removed his hand from his heart.

"Yeah," replied Jody as she gestured towards the stairs, "after you."

Zeb nodded, "Let's hope it's not just the band gearing up for a concert."

"Ha, ha," said Jody sarcastically as they began, once more, to scale the stairs.

The City of Auraria. The State of Jeffereson

One hundred forty-nine years and eleven days ago, on the First of November, 1858, the town of Auraria, in Kansas Territory was plated, three weeks before Denver City was plated on the other side of Cherry Creek. In the contemporary timeline, a year and a half later, Auraria, due to it's founder returning to Georgia to fight in the civil war, was absorbed into the growing Denver, and referred to as West Denver. A year before that, a referendum that would have created a draft constitution for the "State of Jefferson" was rejected, though nearly the same area was created as the Territory of Colorado in February of 1861, two months before the aforementioned absorption of Auraria into Denver.

Well, in my metaverse, it went differently.

Instead of returning to Georgia, William Russell decided to stay in Auraria. By staying in Auraria, the referendum for the State of Jeffereson, eventually accepted as the Territory and and then again the State of Jefferson was passed in October of 1859. The Capital was assigned to Golden, renamed to Jefferson City. Although Auraria didn't hold the seat of the Jefferson's government, it did become it's largest city, absorbing Denver in 1862.

History didn't change much, a name here, a different center of the grid system there, a relocated downtown district. Eventually a large change came about in the 1950s, when the origin point of the Interstate Highway system was assigned to the Atlantic Northeast, rather than the Pacific Southwest. Then, during the 1970s, the Metric system actually caught on, though certain elements of the older Imperial system stayed around in the common vernacular. A third nationwide warehouse store chain, Save-Co, and it's parent company, Save-Corp, which diversified from a PMC with the chain in the 1980s.

Oh, yeah, and the superheroes. Can't forget them.

Josefer Martin - Turning Point - Chapter 3

"Well," began Ms. Studney, leaning forward in her chair, "now that we've gotten that taken care of, let's get on with why we're all here."

She reached out and pressed a red button projected onto the surface of the debriefing room table. That button activated the room's custom AV suite, most of which, at least now that I had replaced most of the older parts, designed by me. The upgrade allowed for a, if you pardon the pun, more intuitive use of the room.

The lights dimmed, and the table's surface transitioned from black to the various files that Ms. Studney had collected for the debriefing. First, she called up a satellite image of downtown Auraria. Colfax and Broadway were immediately obvious, as was Cherry Creek and the South Platte. I-74 ran North-South along the west side of the image, with I-35 running along the southern edge, the Mousetrap marking the south-west corner. A window popped up over one of the buildings on Colfax, marking it as the First Jefferson Bank building.

"At 1217 today, APD received a silent alarm at the FJB building on the 900th block of East Colfax," Ms Studeny narrated as the satellite image zoomed in, evolving into a 3-D hologram of the building coming out of the table. It was ten stories high, and occupied the southeast corner of the intersection. The other buildings around it were shown on the map that now occupied the surface of the table, but only the FJB projected above it. "Within five minutes five more calls, three from inside the building itself, were received. None of the calls made mention of any Paranormal activity, so the APD contacted BARCOG," which she pronounced as Bar Cog. "We were the on-call team for today, so at 1225, the four of you were called down to my office for a briefing."

I hadn't noticed it before, but as she mentioned the times, subtle changed occurred with the hologram. I was impressed, most of the time she didn't animate the hologram during the debrief. She must of gotten my memo about the new software upgrade I did last week.

"By 1235," and as she mentioned the time, a holographic helicopter appeared, hovering a scale three hundred meters above the street, "we had arrived on scene. Insertion was executed per SOP." Five holographic windows opened in mid-air above the table, with extensions pointing to where their vantage point was. Four of them were ours, and fifth being the belly camera of the helicopter.

Four holographic figures jumped from the helicopter. The four of us around the table all 'oohed' softly as we watched our holographic selves free-fall towards the alley pavement, and the surface of the debriefing room table.

The hologram then zoomed in once again, showing the four of us stop two scale meters above the alley pavement, then drop softly to the ground. The belly camera window winked out of the hologram as the helicopter was cropped by the ceiling.

The windows continued to play the full-color video feeds from our uniform mounted cameras as our holographic selves moved on the surface of the table.

"Unfortunately, that's when SOP was thrown out the window, it appears," she chided. The playback paused. It showed me pointing to the holographic representation of the bank and the storage room behind the alley wall. "Breaking established protocol, the Lead opted to cause damage, luckily not damaging the stability of the building."

"Won't insurance cover it?" I asked.

"Yes," she replied curtly, "but that's not the point. You broke protocol by not using your team's abilities."

"Jessica's teleport is limited to two other people, forcing her to potentially fatigue herself prior to encountering the hostile targets, limiting the team's effectiveness in combat, even with normal humans."

"Yes, but you shouldn't have gone through a wall."

"Did it damage the stability of the structure?"

"No."

"Did the bank have insurance to cover it, or would ARCOG have covered it?"

"Yes, on both counts."

"Exactly. I figured that was the easiest way in. Plus, it played to the team's strengths."

"Okay, but next time, could you please make a smaller hole?" she asked.

"My bad," remarked James, an ounce of sincerity mixed in with a pound of sarcasm.

Fort Save-Co - Chapter 7

Robert shook his head as he left Melissa Eldridge behind and ventured, for the second time that day, into the Save-Co. It seemed that everyone was gathered around the TVs, and not knowing what else to do, walked over.

It wasn't just the two-dozen or so people from the parking lot, but also the employees of the Save-Co that were gathered around the TVs. As Robert saw that the TVs were showing the news, he huffed, "Entire communications network my ass." As he got closer, he began to hear the murmurs of the crowd as the customers and the employees mixed.

"An invasion."

"Zombies."

"Fucking bullshit."

"Who are these people?"

"Corporate stooges."

"End of the world."

"Right out of the movies."

"What's with the guns?"

"Mercenaries."

"Nukes."

"Is this happening everywhere?"

"What about my kids?"

"But I've got work tomorrow."

"I've got work tonight."

"Why aren't the phones working?"

"But the TVs still work."

"Where are the Heroes?"

"Electricity?"

"Water?"

"Police?"

"War?"

The conversations jumped from topic to topic. Robert listened, gathered the information, sorted it, but did not say anything. He was already forming plans in the back of his mind. Already scheming to go home. To his dogs.

Then, from behind him, at the entrance, he began to hear conversations on another topic.

"The perimeter is nearly secure. Four more minutes and the fences will be complete."

"Good, once the fences are up, get all the cars inside the perimeter, use the fork lift."

"But what about them?"

"It'll all become clear, but only once the perimeter is secure. And don't forget about the roof emplacements."

"Yes ma'am."

The conversation was between Melissa, the administrator, and one of the black-clothes men. Like the one that had collected Robert at his truck minutes before, maybe even the same one. The only ones he had actually identified were Melissa and Jessica. The other twenty-five were just faceless soldiers.

Robert looked back to the civilians, the group that had expanded in his mind to encompass both the employees and the customers. They had grown silent. He looked at the TV screens. It showed the infamous podium at the White House, where the President spoke.

He walked on-screen, and the blue background flashed white as the press began to take pictures. He stepped behind the podium, and cleared his throat. The flashes died down, but did not stop.

"My fellow Americans. I address you now in an hour of grave terror. Approximately one hour ago, though means that we are still unsure of, groups of creatures, which resembled fictional monsters such as zombies or ghouls, began appearing in cities around the globe." As he spoke, the upper-left corner of the screen began to show similar scenes of grey-skinned people amassing in such landmarks as Times Square, outside Westminster Palace, under the Eiffel Tower, Saint Peter's Square, Mecca, The Taj Mahal, Tiananmen Square, and others.

"Right now they do not appear to be violent, but their sudden appearance has caused panic. I came to you now, to assure you, the American people, that you are safe. This invasion, whatever it may be, will be stopped by our brave men and women of the Armed Services." Now the upper corner showed file footage scenes of Army soldiers, Marines, Navy sailors, and Air Force airmen going about their jobs.

"So please, return to your homes. Let our brave soldiers do their jobs in containing this invasion. Thank You all, and God Bless America."

The TV then changed shots and showed an arial view of Civic Center Park in Downtown Auraria, and the assembling National Guard troops bolstering the existing Police officers surrounding the park and the horde. The horde was stationary, and wasn't doing anything except standing there, close together, and appearing to be rotting.

"Kill 'em," shouted someone in the assembled civilians around the TVs. "Kill 'em all."

Just then, the camera whipped around and showed a lone man attempting to break though the ring of soldier and police. He wore older camouflage fatigues and his beard was long and grey. He struggled forwards, and then, in a split second, pulled a rifle from one of the soldiers and fired it into the horde. The camera focused on the target, who was now missing a shoulder. The horde didn't appear to react at first, except when the camera refocused on the gunman. The zombies closest to him were now pushing against the soldiers, tearing at their uniforms and guns, reaching for flesh, and ripping any they found.

Then, the drone of the helicopter was broken, but not by anyone in the warehouse, but instead, but the reporter in the helicopter. It was one word, but it echoed through the Save-Co.

"Fuck."

Fort Save-Co - Chapter 6

"Lockdown?" asked Selma. "What do you mean 'Lockdown'?"

Ms. Eldridge sighed, "I'll explain it when everyone is here. Hand me a phone, put it on the intercom." Selma walked over, grabbed the phone, and a slight click resounded through the Save-Co as Selma walked the handset over to Ms. Eldridge.

"Here you go," Selma said, matter-of-factly. The microphone in the handset picked up a bit of it and it echoed through the store, resulting in a slight squawk.

"Attention Save-Co employees. This is Ms. Eldridge, Save-Corp District Supervisor. All employees please report to the electronics department. I repeat, all employees please report to the electronics department."

Ms. Eldridge passed the handset back to Selma, a shocked expression on the photo tech's face. She then shook her head, and rushed the handset over to the phone, forgetting to release the connection. The resulting squawk was not only louder, but echoed back and forth throughout the store. Selma looked up and saw both Ms. Eldridge and Rupert glaring at her, "Oops."

Less than a minute later all of the employees were gathered in the electronics department, a call from corporate management causing all of them to rush. Half of them were out of breath, but they were all there.

Selma, along with Rupert, stood at the front of the group, closest to Ms. Eldridge, and the bank of HD TVs behind her.

"I'm sorry to call you all out here on such sort notice," began Ms. Eldridge. "As of right now, this store is on lockdown. We've escorted all of the customers that were in the parking lot to the entrance. In about a minute, we're going to be letting them in. Now, the circumstances of why my team and I are here will become evident shortly. For the next few days, if not longer, we will be administering the facility. Once the situation has stabilized, we, and I mean all of you, all of the customers, and my team and I, will come up with a solution then. I'm going to go talk with the customers. Once they come in, I'm going to need all of you to calm and reassure them. They will be scarred, and as Save-Co employees, and representatives of Save-Corp, you will need to be brave and support them."

Ms. Eldridge then nodded, and made her way around the assembled employees. Selma looked to Rupert, "Wait, what does she mean by 'situation'?"

Rupert shrugged.

The rest of the employees began to mumble amongst themselves, but were suddenly silenced. Selma turned and looked at the bank of TVs. On it was a live news broadcast.

"This is Ronald Simms, with Channel Eight News. We're live above Downtown Auraria," came the voiceover. The TV showed a shaky camera shot from above of a large park. The bottom third of the screen pronounced that the shot was of "Civic Center Park". The park was full of milling bodies. The shot zoomed in, showing the face of one of the people in the park.

"This," Ronald stuttered, "This is out of horror movies. I never thought I'd see this in real life."

As the shot focused, the employees behind Selma gasped. The woman in the center of the screen's face was pale, eyes white, but that was not the horrific part. Her jaw was missing.

"Holy Shit," exclaimed Selma, "Fucking Zombies."

Renaming The Fort

Well, I decided to rename my "Fort Costco" stories "Fort Save-Co". That way I don't have to use trademarked names and can instead use my own name.

Fort Save-Co - Chapter 5

Selma quickly looked around for a manager, leaning on the counter so that she could look around the end of the photo department and down the side aisle. She didn't see any, and there weren't any customers nearby. So, she slipped her left hand into the pocket of her slacks, and pulled out her cell phone.

"No signal?" she said to herself. She was sued to getting crappy reception. She worked in a big concrete and steel building. The radio waves that made cell phones work had a bitch of a time making it in. It didn't help that the Save-Co was one of dozens of stores, including another warehouse store, two home improvement warehouses, two office supply stores, and two or three dozen smaller stores and restaurants served by the same cell tower. But usually it was just one or two bars of service and a crappy connection, not and outright outage.

She tucked the cell back into her pocket and walked around from the counter to the photo printer. She removed the roll of negatives she had just printed, and swapped it out for a fresh roll. She quickly looked through all the pictures, smirked at the nearly pornographic nature of some of them, then left the machine to print in peace.

She looked beyond the photo counter now, out onto the sales floor of the Save-Co.

Like most warehouse stores it had all the high ticket electronics right next to the entrance, with a large open area in the center of the store for rotating clothing and media sales, and two large areas of shelves on either side of the center area. The photo counter was just off the electronics department, and so, if she stood at the farthest corner of the counter, could get a good view of the banks of high definition TVs that the Save-Co sold.

Right now all two dozen of them, at least judging by the dozen that were facing the photo counter, were playing through the generic loop that showed the various features of HD over the old standard-def TVs. It was something that she had seen hundreds or more times since she started working in the photo department a few months earlier.

As she looked, her gaze wandered to the other areas of the store, and she stood of straight. For the first time since she worked at the Save-Co, there wasn't any customers to be seen. Even when they were closing there was usually a straggler or two that had to be reminded of normal business hours, but never in the middle of the day.

"Hey, Rup," she said, addressing the greeter at the door. Rupert was an older man, working a job to pay for her retirement. Selma liked him, as they wold talk during the slow times of day, like they were now.

"Yeah Selma?" replied the greeter.

"You seen any customers?"

"Nah, last ones just left," he replied. He then gestured with his right hand, which was holding a simple thumb-operated counter, "Unless I missed one coming in."

"Never," Selma sarcastically replied. She then leaned on the counter, "I wonder where they all are. Maybe the world ended and nobody told us." She chuckled, then shuddered and a tingle ran up her spine.

Just then Selma could see a black SUV pull up in front of the entrance. And then a black cherry picker, like the phone company uses, pulled in front of it, blocking the entrance on the side of the liquor store, but leaving the side next to the tire center open.

"Whoa," Selma remarked. "Who do they think they are?"

As she said that, the doors on both the SUV and the cherry picker opened, and out stepped what looked to Selma like a a dozen ninja-mercenaries.

One of them, obviously a woman, walked from the SUV towards the door. She was wearing a black mask over her face, but as she reached the door she pulled it off. She was old, though not as old as Rupert, at least in Selma's opinion. She strode with authority, and reached into one of the pocket on her vest as she walked into the store.

"Welcome to Save-Co," said Rupert. "I'm going to have to ask you to put your gun back in your truck. We don't allow them inside the store." Always the professional, Rupert addressed the heavily armed woman like she was a customer not wearing any shoes, another thing not allowed at Save-Co.

The woman held out a plastic card, which had her picture on it, and the Save-Co logo. From her vantage point, Selma thought it looked like an employee ID card. "Melissa Eldridge, I'm from corporate. Can you get your manager?"

A man dressed in black like Ms. Eldridge walked past her and into the store. Rupert, knowing management when he saw it, let the man pass without comment. Selma watched the man walked towards the checkout lanes, and then towards the front wall. Only when the man stopped did Selma realize what he was doing. He was hitting the emergency shutoff for the gas station at the other end of the parking lot.

"Why did he do that?" Selma asked out loud.

"Because," commented Ms. Eldridge as she waited for the manager to arrive, "we're going on lockdown."

Delays

well, I may or may not be able to post a story today. If I can't, then I'll do two stories on the morrow. (So, Fort Costco gets postponed, and Delving will be up tomorrow either way).

Josefer Martin - Turning Point - Chapter 2

"Nice of you to finally make it," scowled Ms. Studney as I walked into the debriefing room after leaving the theatre where Mike and Zelda left me. She make a production of looking at her watch, then at the others around the table. "Ten minutes late, Mr. Martin. And that's ten minutes after you were already late. We called up to Ms. Delarosa five minutes ago, so there's no excuse there." She put her hands on her hips and glared at me, "So, what's your excuse?"

I smirked, and tossed my goggles onto the table. They spun around until they stopped in the middle. "That a good enough excuse?" I asked as I slipped into my chair beside Jessica.

Ms. Studney was about to say something when the goggles flew through the air and into Melissa's hand. "Wait, did Mike and Zelda take these when you two were in the vault?"

"Yeah," agreed Jessica reluctantly. She then looked over at me a look of concern.

"Explain Mr. Martin," commanded Ms. Studney, "Now!"

I remained seated, and leaned back in the chair. "Mike showed up in the theatre."

"What?" exclaimed Ms. Studney. Jay looked surprised, but neither Jessica nor Melissa looked surprised, which wasn't surprising considering.

"After our confrontation in the vault," I began to explain, "he and Zelda shucked their disguises then teleported here. With the anti-eavesdrop spells Zel's come up with, I'm not surprised security wasn't alerted. He was reviewing old mission tapes in the theatre. I was surprised, and he forced me to watch. After a few minutes, he turned around, returned my goggles, and then offered for Jessica and I to join him."

"So," began Ms. Studney, inquisitively, "what did you say?"

"I said I'd think about it," I replied. "I didn't say no, and I didn't say yes." He looked to Melissa, "Can I have my goggles back?"

She slid them to me, a centimeter above the surface of the table. I reached out to grab them.

"Joe," Ms. Studney began, and I knew I was in trouble. She then continued, calmly, "I'm sorry, but until we are sure that Ms. Moonfire or Mr. Schultz hasn't compromised the security of your father's goggles, we're going to have to keep them in quarantine." She then reached out her hand.

I looked to Melissa, silently pleading to her to give me the goggles. She looked from me to the principal, and back, my goggles floating midway between her and I.

"Mel, please, give me my goggles," I pleaded.

"Melissa," said Ms. Studney tersely.

Then, something totally unexpected happened. Well, actually, two completely unexpected things. First, Melissa fainted, dropping the goggles. Second, the goggles stopped less than a millimeter from the tabletop, and floated over to Jessica. She grabbed the as if she hadn't expected it to happen, and then handed them to me.

"Jessica?" Ms. Studney said in surprise.

Looking back on the previous ten minutes, I don't know why i was surprised. Every time Mike had made a statement as declaratory as he had in the theatre, he wasn't wrong.

"Jess?" I said, tucking the goggles into a pocket of my pants.

"Joe, what just happened?" she asked.

"Jess, I think you're a PDP," I replied, echoing Mike's statement earlier. "It makes sense. Telepathy and teleporting aren't very related."

"But that's what I was born with," she exasperatingly said.

"Yes, but what if it's just because the telepathy part of your package was weak enough to appear at birth."

"But what about her acrobatics?" asked Melissa, now conscious again. I guessed she was annoyed that she wasn't the only PDP on the team now.

"Body control," stated Ms. Studney. "Many PDPs have been shown to exhibit a large amount of control over their bodies with their PK with little effort. I guess Ms. Martinez just assumed that all she had was the body control, her acrobatics." She looked over to Jessica, "Once we're done with the debriefing, you'll need to report to my office so we can schedule a time for you to get your powers re-tested."

I reached over and help Jess' hand, which she was resting on the table, "It'll be okay Jess. You got through the Zener cards fine last time. What's a few more tests?"

She turned her head and looked me in the eyes, "But the movie? Our date?"

I chuckled, "Honey, Jess. We can see a movie afterwards."

She continued to focus on me, ignoring that other three people in the room. James was comforting Melissa, and Ms. Studney was calling someone, probably the state's Paranormal Regulatory Department, her bosses, about scheduling Jess' tests, and probably Mike and Zelda's intrusion as well.

"Joe," she said, sobbing a bit, "I've been training to be an acrobat telporter with telepathy, not a PDP teleporter. What if I'm no good at it?"

"Jess," I said, looking her in the eyes, my hands cupping her jaw, "It's going to be okay. Look at how good you are at acrobatics. If that's any indication of your PK, then you're a Grade Four at least. At that level, just like with the acrobatics and my intuition, it just comes naturally."

Posting

Wow, I just realized that I've almost made as many posts this month than I did in 2005, and I've already done more than I did in 2006. I guess having stories to write, and the dedication to write them, has helped.

Of course, wanting a reason to write is always good. I've got lots of ideas in my head, and I guess this is as good a place as any to let them out.

Delving 101 - Chapter 5

Zeb and Jody were fully prepared for their delve, thought each in their own way. Jody looked at Zeb, then at the door in front of them. They were in the white room, and Professor Torbin was sitting at the desk behind them. Jody uneasily shifted her weight back and forth from her left to her right foot. Zeb was calmer, but only because he was making sure all his equipment was strapped on tight.

As Zeb adjusted his buckler for the fifth time, Professor Trobin cleared his throat. Both Jody and Zeb turned their heads, to look back at him over their shoulders.

"You will be timed, and judged on your success. As you both know, the test, being your midterm, will be a live fire exercise," the dwarf explained. "Your goal is to collect the Scroll of Fire from the temple at the end of the complex."

He paused, and then the paused stretched into silence.

Jody cleared her throat. "Professor," she began, then looked at Zeb, who nodded, "We're ready."

Torbin smiled, "Good luck."

Then room plunged into darkness, the only illumination a faint glow coming from the crack under the door.

"Let's do this," Zeb said in the darkness. He then drew his sword, which was longer and broader in the blade than Rob's. As he drew it, the room lit up, his sword shining like a torch. Unlike moments before, the room did not have plain white walls and a dwarf behind a desk. Instead, it had rough hewn stone walls, and was open behind them to a forest at night. Ahead of them, instead of the ordinary doors, were a pair of ornately carved stone doors. He held the sword in one hand high above his shoulder, so as to cast the light down and out in front of them.

Jody pulled her axe from it's ring on her belt and twirled it slightly in her right hand as she advanced in front of Zeb to the door. She reached out with her left hand, which was wearing a supple leather glove with a chain mail back. She knelt down and examined the door with her left hand. Unlike it's previous appearance, it didn't have any handles.

"So," asked Zeb, walking up behind her. He kept the sword high so as to keep the light fully on the door, rather than allow shadows to obscure any potential clues. "What've we got?

"Typical vault doors. Probably six inches thick, barred, not locked," she replied. She stood, then stepped to the side. "After you."

Zeb smiled, and stepped forwards. He rested his left hand against the doors, then slowly slid his sword between thhem. He slowly and carefully lifted the sword all the way up to the frame, then brought it back down. It stopped about three feet off the ground. "This is too easy." He then changed his stance, grasped the sword with both hands, and then lifted the sword up and almost all the way out from between the doors, keeping just the tip between them. He then grunted, bent his knees, and brought the sword quickly down, grunting against as it dug into the bolt on the other side of the door. He then tested the success of his attempt by pulling up on the sword. It was much heavier than when it came down. "Ah, got it."

Jody, who was leaning against the side of the entrance with her legs crossed at the ankle and her arms across her chest, stood and tested the door as Zeb continued to lift the bolt with effort. Once he had it lifted by a foot, the doors began to swing in. Zeb stepped forwards with his sword held in both hands, his right on the grip of the hilt, his left grasping the blade at the surface of the door, following the right side door and rotating himself, and the bolt, to follow the swing.

Jody looked down the corridor as Zeb extricated his sword from the bolt. "So, you'd never know this place had already been delved three times already today."

"And it'll be delved again once we're done with it," commented Zeb as he advanced down the corridor. Every twenty feet, on alternating sides, a flickering torch was placed in a sconce. He stepped carefully, not knowing if there was a pressure switch or trip wire along the corridor.

Jody was less careful, and passed Zeb in the corridor, twirling her axe in her fingers. When Zeb scowled at her as she passed she stopped, "What?"

"Hello? Dungeon? Could be traps," he sarcastically said.

"Zeb, this is an entrance and exit corridor. It's not going to be trapped, since it would be illogical to disable every trap along the way and able it once you were past it. Once we're at the temple proper, and going into a lower traffic area, then we'll have to worry about traps."

Zeb slackened from his cautious stance, leaning his still glowing sword on his right shoulder plate, "Did Mary tell you there wasn't any traps along here?"
Jody looked horrified, and took a defiant stance, "How dare you_ We talked general strategy. And anyway, Professor de Lana

told us all about the logic of places like this. It isn't just a bunch of disparate monsters, savages, and traps. Every delve has a reason for being, whether it's and old Imperial stockpile, to a pre-fall mine, to the ruins of a city. Sure, there's going to be structural traps, and occasionally there will be traps or monsters placed as defensive measures on rarely accessed passages, but never on a main entrance."

Zeb raised his left arm up in surrender, "Whoa, whoa. Sorry. I get enough lectures in class. I don't need another one from you."

Jody glared at Zeb, then turned to look down the corridor, "Come on, we're wasting time. And anyway, we've got a temple to rob."

Zeb smiled, lifted his sword from his shoulder, and followed her down the corridor, "That's the spirit."

Fort Save-Co - Chapter 4

The broken asphalt of the bailey crunched beneath his feet as he walked away from the shade and into the light. He could hear the tink tink of the smiths along the west side of the keep, as well as the rumble of the mill to his left, in the middle of the bailey. He looked around to make sure no one was coming over to talk to him, then turned towards the gate, which was just west of the mill, and broke into a jog.

As he covered the hundred feet or so, he thought back to when he was beginning his job as quartermaster, back when the fort was still being established. It was a pre-war building, and he had been a fairly regular customer. In fact, he was here when the founders secured the fort the day of the invasion.

He stopped about halfway between the keep and the gate, and looked around. As he compared the landmarks he nodded and talked to himself, “Yeah, it was just about here. I was loading up my truck, probably with bottled water and dog food. And then they just rolled up like they owned the place.” He chuckled, “Well, in a way, they did.”

---

Robert hefted the twenty-four pack of bottle water from the flatbed into the bed of his truck, then pushed it forwards into the bed of the truck. He turned to pick up the twenty pound bag of dog food when he stopped.

Half bent over he looked over the back side of the flatbed and saw half a dozen vehicles drive into the parking lot one, right after, the other. He stood, pushing his hat up to wipe his forehead, using the action to get a better look at the trucks entering the lot.

The lead truck was a black, late model SUV with tinted windows and a whole slew of antennas along it’s roof and rear bumper. Behind it was a black passenger van, fifteen passengers at least, also with as many antennas as the SUV in front of it. The SUV turned and headed for the store entrance, stopping on the concrete in front of the main doors. The Van turned the opposite direction and parked parallel to the street in the second row of parking spaces.

Behind the van was a utility truck, but it wasn’t from any of the local utilities, as it was painted black like the others, and had it’s own complement of antennas. It followed the SUV up to the front entrance and parked just past it, next to the liquor store entrance.

Behind the cherry-picker truck was a pair of moving trucks, black with antennas. They both parked behind the van. The final truck to enter the parking lot was a semi pulling a flatbed loaded with construction vehicles. Robert identified a pair of Bobcat skid loaders, a backhoe, and an extendable fork lift.

Robert stood in awe as the semi pulled past the van and moving trucks, and consequently right past him and his little flatbed before pulling around and stopping between the other vehicles and the road.

“What the?” was all Robert could say before all the doors opened, and his world changed.

In less than five seconds twenty-seven men and women exited the half-dozen vehicles. They were all dressed alike, from their black combat boots, to their side arms, to the MP5s hung across their chests. They also wore black balaclavas with sunglasses and radio headsets.

The four occupants, three men and a woman, of the SUV and the mixed pair from the cherry picker began working at the entrance, setting up some sort of command point from the back of the SUV. From what Robert could tell from his angle, the back of the SUV was set up with at least a dozen flat-screen monitors.

A second group, consisting of the mixed pairs from the moving trucks and the semi as well as five from the van, began working to off-load the semi and the contents of both trucks. Robert would have paid more attention to them, if it wasn’t for the actions of the final group.

The actions of the final group were unified only in that the pairs were doing the same thing in different parts of the parking lot. Robert remarked to himself that the pairs, heck the whole lot of them, were surprisingly mixed given the obvious offensive nature of the whole operation. The ten that remained split into five groups and spread out from the van out among the sparse cars of the lot.

As Robert watched the pair coming towards him, he thought that it was rather odd how little cars were actually in the lot itself. He looked around and quickly counter less than two dozen, all of them with people by them. He then looked behind him, to the highway that the store was so conveniently placed near, and saw the on-ramps clogged full of cars. It seemed that the noise barrier was doing a spectacularly good job, as only as he paid attention did he notice the cacophony of honks and horns coming from the interstate.

“What the?” he said, repeating his earlier cryptic exclamation. He was about to make a wise-ass comment when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He spun around and saw the pair that had been approaching him had finally made it while he was gawking at the traffic.

“Sir?” asked the one on the left. She was taller than Robert by about an inch, and had removed her sunglasses. Her partner beside her took a much more offensive posture, with his right hand resting on the grip of his MP5.

“What?” asked Robert, partly annoyed and partly bewildered.

“Sir,” said the one of the right. Unlike his partner, his was not in an inquisitive fashion.

“We’ll need you to come with us sir,” his partner added. She turned slightly and gestured to the store itself, he brilliant blue eyes looking to the entrance, and then back to Robert before he head could follow.

“What?” stammered Robert. He took a half-step back and nearly fell into the back of his pickup. “What are you doing here?”

“Sir, we’re here for your protection,” said the one on the right, his hand gripping the MP5 more intensely. “As my partner said, we need you to come with us. We have to get you inside.”

“Why?”

“Sir, there’s a situation. We’re here to help, but to help you, we need you to cooperate,” she said. Even though only her eyes were exposed, Robert got the impression that she was trying to be nice, but that he was trying her patience.

“Okay, just let me…” Robert began.

The man reached out and grabbed Robert’s arm, “No, we need you to move now. We have to secure the site, and we can’t do that until you’re inside.”

Robert tried to protest, tried to rip his arm out of the other man’s grip, but it was no use. So, he relented and began to walk towards the store entrance, the man letting him go as he cooperated.

“Thank you sir,” said his partner, the smile on her face evident in her tone.

“It’s Robert.”

“Well, thank you Robert. I’m Jessica.”

“And him?”

“I’m none of your concern, Bob,” he replied curtly.

“It’s Robert,” growled Robert, obviously used to, and annoyed, but people constantly trying to contract his name.

The man raised his eyebrows above the tops of his sunglasses and tilted his head, wordlessly telling Robert that he didn’t care. The trio quickly got to the entrance, along with a dozen other people and their herder. They milled around aimlessly at the entrance to the store before someone came out. It was the woman who got out of the SUV a few minutes before, though her balaclava was pulled down, allowing her short cropped raven hair to show. She was in her late thirties, the same age as Robert, and hand an air of authority about her.

“Welcome to your new home,” she said, a smile on her face and her arms open wide. “I know this is difficult to understand, but at least for the foreseeable future, you all are going to be staying here.”

The civilians began to murmur, but she stopped them with by clearing her throat. By now the herders had returned with the final store patrons who were in the lot, making for a total of two dozen civilians, ranging in age from twelve to fifty, with Robert’s thirty-eight on the high side of the median.

“You all were, are, very lucky to be here. An hour ago, the improbable, but not unforeseen, event of an invasion occurred. While you were here shopping the entire communications network of the world, from the internet, to the telephone, was shut down by an outside force. This, predictably, caused a great deal of panic. Luckily, the agency I work for had a plan for such an emergency, and within that hour we, my team and I, were sent here to secure this site. We will not run out of food, and in time, you all will be allowed to find and if you want, return with your families. But, as of right now, we need all of you to calmly come inside where it is safe and secure.”

“Who are you?” shouted one of the assembled civilians. Robert couldn’t see the man who asked the question, but the same question was on his mind as well.

“My name is Melissa, and I’m the administrator for this facility. In time, I hope that we can become friends, but for now, I need you to all go inside,” she replied,. She stepped to the side, and the civilians, all two dozen of them, slowly and calmly, entered the store. Robert was the last to go in, and stopped to look Melissa in the eye and ask her a question.

“Who are you, really?”

She looked him over, then smiled. Robert knew that smile, it screamed bureaucracy, “I’m the woman who just saved your life.”

Josefer Martin - Turning Point - Chapter 1

The silence was such that you could, if you were so inclined, or powered, cut it with a knife. The video, which was still playing, had muted when I entered the room, so Mike and I were watching it in silence. A minute or so passed before he turned in his seat, his left arm resting on the top of the cushion.

“You gonna talk, or are we going to sit here all day?”

I mouthed a few words, but nothing came out.

“Yeah, I know. It was a glamour. Zelda popped it off before you and Jess ‘ported in. Allowed me to sneak in here with another glamour, since they were looking for what Zel and I looked like at graduation.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, then spoke up, “Mike, why?”

“Why? You have to ask why? I told you. It’s about proving that I’m better than you. But that’s only half of it,” he looked down and pulled my father’s goggles from inside his jacket, which was not the same flame-motif he wore before, instead it was just a well tailored black sport coat. He whirled them around on his right index finger by the strap, “The real reason? I want you and Jess to work with Zel and I. We make a good team, the four of us. A Gadgeteer Intuit, Pyro Hyper-Genius, Package Deal Psychic Teleporter, and a Mage Manifestor. We could be unstoppable, we will be unstoppable.” He gestured to me, then himself, and then to the screen, which showed his younger self looking first to Jess and then to Zelda on our last mission together last year.

“You know I’m never going to turn. My dad’s a Supe, my mom’s an ADA, Jess’s dad’s an EMT and her mom’s a Supe with dad. It’s the family business.”

“But what business is being a Supe?” he asked, tossing the goggles onto my lap. “The pay is horrible, the government puts loads of restrictions on you, plus you might get called up to serve in Iraq or Afghanistan. Plus, there’s no guarantee that once you and Jess finish college that you’ll stay together, even if you two get married.”

“Married?” I stammered. I hadn’t ever thought that far ahead, thinking more of MIT or CalTech than where Jess and I were going in our relationship.

“Yeah, married. It’s eventually going to happen. You may be an Intuit, but I’m the Genius, I know you better than you know yourself.”

He gestured to the goggles, “It’s a gift. If you ever change your mind, Zel and I’ll be there. But talk to Jess. This is not just your future, but her’s as well.”

I picked up the goggles, but as soon as I did, my limbs went stiff and I couldn’t move.

Mike chuckled, “What, you think I’d let you have it without a price?”

Another chuckle manifested from the shadows at the front of the debriefing room theatre. As she stepped into the light of the projector, I saw that it was Zelda, wearing a stylish yet ordinary black mini-dress, “Toodles Joe. We’ll see you again.”

They both disappeared, and about fifteen seconds later, I was able to move, and the sound returned as well, allowing me to hear the pleading announcement for me to report for a meeting.

As a stood and stuffed the goggles into my backpack only one word came to my lips, “Shit.”

Alternating Stories

Okay, I'm going to try to alternate my stories (Delving, Costco, and Josefer now that I've re-read year old material and got caught up with my old characters) for a while, just to get into the habit of writing and posting, but also so that I can get some of the ideas out of my head.

Also, I've finally put some of my behind the scenes development of my stories (at least Delving) onto the Net. It's just for me right now, but eventually I'll release the info to the net at large (not that anyone actually reads my stories anyway).

I might not get my stories up as quickly and as regularly as I hope, but I'll at least try. November is NaNoWriMo (national novel writing month). I'll be using that as an excuse to write, though this shit will probably never make it into print (unless I someday do a Lulu compilation.