Instantly frustrated that he missed the mark, Damien hits his cruise button, resulting in a bloody knukle-print on his console.
His Talon begins to suck in the surrounding energy that quickly explodes into a burst of speed that sinks the already deeply scar-handed Gaian into his seat.
Looking down to the screen on his left, he selects Jacknife's Hawk & taps the formation option... As the klicks between the two flyers begin to shrink, Marburg leans low over the controls, as if to reduce wind resistance.
Getting closer, he starts to see the others.
Jacknife, up ahead, & hot on the heels of two others, commences to wedge his way between them, & fires his tow-cable.
The magnetic end attatches itself to one ship, & he then slams his stick to the left, knocking into the other ship like a brick, while simultainiously releasing the cable, & screeching on his brakes.
The other end of the magnetic cable immedeatley clings to Jack's other quarry & connects the other two nose-to-nose allies... The almost instantanious result, is them both colliding into each other as Jack skids through the middle of an almost perfect circle of firey debris.
He hits the gas again, & prepares to sink into his own seat as the beams emenating from the Hawk's tractor, scoop up the coccoons of his wingmates like an electric hand.
His cockpit shudders & his ears pop as Marburg's engines growl past him like the flash of a blade, & with a sound so low on the register that it's felt more than it's heard.
Hitting the formation button again, the former Plague Dog chases his next "rabbit" who is skimming just ontop of one of the twin suns of Edinburgh.
Running equal alongside the bolting rodent, Dimi pulls to the right, & forces them BOTH into the corona. As Marburg gains the upper hand, he slams the throttle & the Talon's firey thruster envelops the front window of the other ship.
The chemical reaction from just barely within the sunsphere results in the accumulation of a thick layer of opaque soot over the outside of the charred bunny's cockpit.
Burning his own way clear, Dimi again lurches over his console.
Caulobacter Phage looks up at the huge panoramic media wall, with his back to the audience, & takes a moment to witness the newly blinded Gaian exit the corona & shoot out a beacon for pickup.
Phage pauses for another second, then pivots his upper body to the crowd while keeping his feet firmly planted in place. He flashes a sly, mischevious grin outward as he raises the microphone to his mouth, & asks the room with mock sympathy:
"...Doesn't it just suck to be him?..."
"AAAAWWWWWWW!!!!!" replies the crowd.
"Tonight," Caul continues, dramatically shaking his drooping head, "::SIGH:: He drinks for free."
To the left of the stage, Racher's buddies cry out: "Ra-KER!!" in military 'Hu-Ahh" exuberence, as an honorific round of applause begins to echo out from the spectators, and across the gigantic, cavernous chamber.
"...BUT! how abooout that outstANDING RUN OF INTERFERENCE BY MARBRRRRGG!!??" he growls to the crowd like the consumate showman he is.
The room of hundreds again explodes into a frenzy of high decibel excitement.
Deep in concentration, the roar of the Blighters bounce off the walls of Damien's cockpit as he only now becomes vaguely aware of Caulobacter's running commentary.
"...and then there were six..." said the M.C's voice over the speaker, as his former student continues to race on....
Hannah Lassa is looking up at the lift display screen, hands clasped behind her, as she rocks back & forth on the balls of her feet.
::42::
::43::
::44::
::45::
The young Ms. Montgomery is excited.
She can already begin to feel the heat rising up the elevator shaft as the lift plummets at near free-fall speed, down to it's destination on level 66.
"God! I HATE going to Hell!" she mutters to herself, but honestly, only says it out of habit.
As a matter of fact, truth be told, today, she is willing not only to go to it...but through it.
::58::
::59::
::60::
Today, she learned that Dimi is back in town, & will be here soon.
...She's going to have to keep an eye on her small frame though...After all...everybody else will be.
...It can really be a jungle down there.
She takes her seat, & pulls down the thickly-cushioned shoulder restraints.
She closes her eyes & braces herself as the elevator begins to apply it's brakes.
Her body lifts, & she giggles as inertia pulls her internal organs, & thinks back to her last really good day... somewhere on the surface of Gaia...(#38)
::63::
::64::
::65::
'I hope Moira's not going to be there' she thinks to herself jealously as she unlocks her restraint a split-moment early, & rises five feet in the air, then landing gracefully, and directly in front of the elevator door at the exact moment that it comes to a halt.
"I hate it when you do that."
still half-crouched, she quickly turns her neck & flashes a smile that Burns into Dengue Connor in a way that all the heat in the pub simply can't.
She straightens up as the doors open, & the Couple exit the large service elevator as Hannah takes him by the hand, and begins to wonder to herself if she's only about to end up leading her boyfriend through Hell.
"Dengue" Connor follows the young & proportinate 5'6" woman down the long, wide service corridor that dead ends at the entrance to Hell's Kitchen; infamous for being the hottest place inside of the hottest place on Islay.
Since the kitchen is "technically" uninhabitable, Dengue takes a right, & begins to head for one of the back staff entrances into the Bar.
He is immedeately jerked to a stop by the arm that is connected to the hand, that is being almost painfully squeezed by one: Hannah "Lassa" Montgomery.
Hannah stands stock-still, staring up at the large stone sign above the kitchen door that reads:
"Abandon all hope, ye Who Enter Here."
Within the past five months, Dengue has learned that whenever she makes his hand feel this way, she's about to do something he doesn't want her to do.
Deeeclaaaann? she asks innocently, while releasing his hand & putting on her best completive expression...her eyes never averting from the sign almost directly above her.
"No" "No, what?" she asks sweetly.
"No, I'm not giving you a boost."
"...Oh, c'mon, ...PLEEEZE?" she turns & begs, shooting that same smile to Declan that so far, always,...ALWAYS works.
Dec just shakes his head with a sigh, & kneels down as Hannah leaps up onto his shoulders.
As he gets to his feet, his woman rises into the air; now within reach of the sign.
She pulls out a thick, black marker from one of the large utility pockets on the thigh of her military fatigues.
Marker in hand, she pauses, & looks down to Declan with a Misfit's smile and whispers, "Thank you, Baby!"
...She hops back down, & yanks him by the arm, & procedes to again lead him down through the corridor that exits into the pub...like a dog on a leash.
The doors that lead to the kitchen swing open as an fire-proximity suited employee rolls out a large cart full of food, underneath a sign that now reads:
Silvanus and Moira stood amidst the manic crowd in the large main chamber of the Level 66 warrens. Moira squealed with glee at the piloting antics of Damiens R/T. The lad hadnt forgotten how to fly after all.
Silvanus, however, seemed a bit uncomfortable. She picked nervously at the bodice of her peasant blouse, finally leaning over to speak above the rabid noise into Moiras ear.
Moira, I dont wanna sound dumb, but this Phage person seems to be whipping the crowd into a frenzy. Ive never seen or heard of him around Islay before.. Who is he?
Moira tore her attention from the wall-size monitor to look at Silvy. "Well, Silvy, Caulofactor is, or was, the leader of the Plague Dogs, the bunch that Damien and I belonged to before they all sort of disappeared for a bit. Lots of these folk know im from back then, even though the Dogs were a might secretive about their agenda. Im sure Demis a bit shocked to see him again after all this time. Id heard rumors that he was back in Edinburgh; but wasnt sure of a certainty until just now meself.
Well, he can certainly get a party rollin! said Silvanus. She looked around again at the hundreds of revelers in the chamber, and a smile finally began to form on her face. What happens after the race, Moria?
Moira began to answer Silvy when here gaze fell across two recent arrivals at the main entrance to the chamber. Oh, my bleedin hell! It it aint Hanna and Dengue! Somethin big must be happenin to bring them out in the open as well as Caul!"
Hanna Lassa exhales... Her breath wafts upward, and becomes one with the Univesrse.
Her carbon dioxide joins the hot, thick, oxygen-rich air of the Green Hell, and soon makes it's way through one of thousands of gigantic exaust fans.
It exits the bar & picks up speed as one of the high powered fans begin to blow it through an opening...into a system of exaust tunnels that encircle the entire station of Islay.
Eventually, it makes it's way into the dwarfingly large outer wind cavern.
The cavern is man-made, & has an purpose.
The air continues it's journey through the cave system that runs the majority of it's course, very close, just under the surface of the frozen and rocky Gaian station.
As it travels, the air drops to near-freezing, as it continually makes contact with the walls of Islay's icy artery, & eventually, back down to level 66.
The refrigerated air then again finds it's way out of the one of thousands of exaust fans, and back into the sprawling & humid complex.
Now, Hannah's carbon dioxide finds itself being absorbed into only one of the hundreds of thousands of extremely hearty plants that are indiginous not only to Islay, but native to the Green Hell in particular.
The breath of young woman then takes a moment to allow itself to be converted into oxygen, then seeps back into the atmosphere, and begins uncontrollably side-stepping through the wakes & currents of the passing patrons.
Wafting upward, it now finds itself being pulled into another, smaller ossilating fan connected to one of the hundreds of tall cocktail tables scattered throughout the bar...in every direction.
Being pushed foreward by the spinning blades, it finally ends it's journey, by entering the lungs of the inhaling Hannah Lassa.
Hannah gulps down the last of her peppered potato malt, & leaves a tip on the table before she goes to meet Declan halfway; as he comes within her eyesight...scanning the crowd looking for the woman whose coat he he now possesses draped over his arm, after a long trip back to their cabin, 65 floors above in the residential block.
She feels guilty...she really, really loves her wingman, & adores sharing her life with the hero who has saved it countless times.
Now closeby, she sneaks in behind him, & below his line of sight, gooses him in the ribs with a giggle, as he turns to face her with a start.
Ignoring Declan's scolding look, she looks into his eyes, and feels a rush of warmth that all the heat here in Hell just can't match.
She laces her fingers behind his neck & pulls him in close, & kisseses him below the ear before whispering for the second time today: "Thank you Baby!"
Declan wraps her in his arms as he straightens, & she clings to him as he lifts her into the air.
Eyes closed & smiling, Hannah rests her head on her boyfriend's shoulder, feels another happy rush of wamth...and thinks of Damien.
A man lay slumped over a table in one of the back bars of Hell.
A reletively cool mist of water blows from a small nozzle affixed behind an ossilating fan attatched to the tables edge.
The Man feigns a snoring sleep as his bottle rests on it's side, dripping a slowly flowing trail of lager onto the floor.
He is, in fact, On Duty.
He is a Gatekeeper...a man who guards one of the dozens of secret entrances that lead into the Warrens of Islay.
The entrance opens to a path that eventually leads to a large, natural cavern that houses what can best be described as an "ampitheatre of blights."
However, that path is, for the moment, rendered inaccessable.
"We hear this is considered a time of wish fulfillment."
Hearing the proper pass-phrase, the "lush" sluggeshly lifts his head to meet the eyes of two of his superiors.
As if again flipping a switch, he offers a very sober, almost impeceptable wink.
Hannah & Declan flip their own switches, & sloppily plop down to join the man at his table.
"Why are you denying us entrance?" slurrs Hannah.
"Beggin' your pardon Sirs, but, for the moment, NOBODY gets in." the gatekeeper slurrs back.
"Why?" Declan asks him.
"Because," the keeper replies, "for the moment, the road is doubling as a racetrack."
The Universe reveals a subtle connection to the on-duty Gaian as the falsely drunken couple speak in unison:
"Cool!"
"I was just about to cross the room to create a distraction as a matter of fact." the Gatekeeper continued.
"Oooooh! I wanna do it!" Hannah says with another Misfit's smile.
"Sir, you are welcome to it."
Declan just rolls his eyes, & turns to one of the dozens of monitors bolted to the celing across the barroom that bear witness to Checkerboard, Marburg, Jacknife, & one racer that he has never met before, as they quickly & violently crash their way past each other in the open, down the covert & impromtu track, amid the station's daily bustle.
...& now, very close by.
Hannah falsely stumbles to the opposite side of the room, and takes a seat next to a lone Corsair tourist, enjoying a drink at the bar situated within an opposite sight-line to the Warrens door.
She flashes the tourist a sloppy & sexy smile, & pulls close to him as he smiles expectantly back at the beautifully attractive young woman.
"For whatever it's worth... I'm truly sorry."
The Corsair's hopeful smile never waivered as he proceded to offer the seemingly sugestable woman another strong drink.
Her smile morphs into a look of sympathy as Hannah runs her fingers into his hair and closes a tuft of it within her fist.
Then, like the flash of a blade, she pushes the tourist's face down onto the bar...his teeth now biting painfully on the edge...
A split-instant later, with her free fist, then punches the back of his head...resulting in a liberal spray of blood & molars.
"Don't-you-EVER-TOUCH-ME-THERE!!---EVER!!!" Hannah screams while she turns every head in the room, and the Corsair collapses to the ground...
"I'LL F***ing KILL YOU, YOU GODD***ed As*****!!!..."
As the young Miss "Lassa" procedes to repeatedly kick the downed tourist, he does his freshly toothless best to plea for stoppage while his ribs begin to break... one by one.
...The four remaining racers come crashing completely unnoticed into, and through the pub, slamming back and forth off of each other...doing their best to jockey for position as they turn the corner, & disappear into the now-opened entrance to the secret festival, where the gatekeeper stands to the side, offering a sarcastically exaggerated servants bow as the runners pass.
"...AND I HOPE YOU SPEND THE REST OF YOUR LIFE S***ING INTO A COLOSTEMY BAG YA F***ING PR***!!!"
With the man still on his back...who's only offence was being in the wrong place at the wrong time, continues to suffer as Hannah lets fly one more kick for good measure, and his lungs collapse as he begins to hemorrage...the taste of blood & whiskey gurgling from the back of his throat, out of his mouth, down his face, and onto the floor.
The pub's customers gather in a concerned circle around the ruined & crippled man , as the petite & former Plague Dog returns to the table she originated from, & ordered the gatekeeper to make sure that the broken Corsair is well taken care of, and treated like a King... for however many months it will take for the poor man to conveless.
Dengue & Hannah then procede through the camoflaged entrance, & down a path that leads from the door that now closes in front of us.
The tumblers of cause & effect click into place, & again render this specific path...at least for the moment...inaccessable.
Caulobacter Phage jumps down off the stage for the sixth time today, & mills his way through the crowd.
In this particular section of the Warrens, the wide open area has anything & everything you could possibly ever want.
Caul walks up the steps to the elevated 'control booth' that serves as the beating heart that provides the flow of power to everything in the cavernous amitheatere, from the sound system, to the lights, the odds-maker in the betting pit, the hundreds of cameras & viewing screens, & even powers the robotic referee down in the fight-hole.
He leans over the railing to his left & smiles as he looks over the throng of people from his elevated perch.
The old man looks across the way, to a group of around twenty, watching some of the more spectacular highlights of today's earlier race, displayed on the giant screen above the stage.
He laughs to himself as he observes the twenty duck in unison, as a large piece of debris from Jacknife's Hawk flies into, & destroys one of the many remote cameras that were keeping pace with the racers for the duration.
He moves to the right-side railing, & spies the race winner a good hundred feet away, sitting with his comrades in the bar area as he drunkenly does his best to remain still as a large bronze colored scorpion slowly crawls up his arm.
With his buddies cheering him on, Checkerboard begins to sweat, as more & more bet money passes back & forth over his head around the quickly gathering circle of betters of this particular game, as the odds increase the longer he can remain unstung.
If he can make it for another minute, he will hold the new record.
Caulobacter taps the shoulder of one of the festival workers sitting at his station, as the staph member prepares the speaker system for tonights concert.
"Hand me that mic, will ya Lad?"
the employee does as asked without even having to look away from the screen.
The old man clicks the switch & takes a moment to think if he should do this........'Heh! who am I kidding?' he thinks to himself as his amplified voice startles everyone in earshot.
"LADIES & GENTLEMEN!!...MAY I DIRECT YOUR ATTENTION TO THE CENTER RING?!!" he says with his showman's smile.
Every head in the cave turns to face the MC.
"Any moment now, it will dusk...& you all know what that means!"
"ONE ROUND OF FREE BEER!!" scream the croud in unison.
"I'm sorry, I must be getting deaf with my advanced age...WHAT??!!"
"!!!!ONE ROUND OF FREE BEER!!!!" they all reply again at the tops of their lungs.
"Yeah, free beer INDEED!!
The crowd explodes in delight, & the sound of their cheers echo like the subtle rumble of a tzunami.
"shhhhhhh!" Caul tells them dramatically with his index finger pressed to his lips, & within a handful of seconds, the only sound that could be heard is the droning hum of the stations' generators.
"Any moment now..." he whispers into the microphone....
And like clockwork, the silence itself becomes deafening as Islay's generators switch to 'standby.'
"and there it is." Caul quietly says with a beaming smile.
"NOW!...Go grab your coats & meet me at the BAR!"
Caulobacter laughs to himself as he returns the mic to the staph member, & watches Checkerboard be led out of the ampitheatre otherwise unnoticed, leaning on the shoulders of his flanking buddies as they escort him to the infirmary to treat a mildly venomous, but extremely painful sting from a sound sensitive scorpion.
'Well, my record is safe for another year.' he mutters, & makes his way to the bar to join the others as the fog begins to roll in.
Colin 'Caulobacter' Murphy sat quietly among the dull roar around him as the Blighters enjoy the 'dusk' round of free drinks given to every patron of the Green Hell complex.
The origin of this tradition stems from a concept offered by a longtime former resident of Islay named Riley Mackenzie...His thought was, since the fog rolls in so thick, & so quick...if you can't see your hand in front of your face for 15 minutes...how the hell are the employees during such a busy time, going to know who to collect money from?
"So," says Riley, "Since your gonna loose money anyway, turn it into a tradition, & you can loose money for years to come."
Colin implemented the tradition, & has made a very nice fortune off of the repeat business.
Caul sniffs the air & downs a very fine Gaian tequilla with a smile.
"Could'ja do me a favor lad, & be so kind as ta f*** off?" he nicely asks the man seated next to him, while he was minding his own business.
Offended, but obeying the well known 'Manager of Hell' ...he simply disapears into the fog-enveloped crowd.
"Have a seat & drink with me Marburg." Colin says without turning.
"I hate it when yew do that."
"You sound like Dengue." Colin says with a chukle as Marburg takes his seat.
Colin Murphy nods to the Bartender, & the keeper places a top-shelf bottle of Gaian Stout in front of the Duster-clad Plague Dog, that bears the name 'Marburg's' on the label.
Gracefully turning & filling Colin's glass with another shot of that fine tequilla, the night-shift bartender named Joey Romack proposes a tost to the two local celebrities.
"GO AWAY!!" says Caul, as Joey ceaces mid-word, & disapears into the thick fog without protest.
"I've been keeping tabs on you boy...I know why your here." Caul says as he swivels his barstool to face the brooding Dimi as he lifts his shot glass in the air. "SO!...A toast huh?...ok, (ahem)...If all of your wishes were granted, many of your dreams would be destroyed, yeah?"
Marburg turns to face his father-figure, & raises his beer in the air to meet his supirior's shot glass with a 'clink' as he replies:
"Yeah, Here's ta not learnin' the hard lessons the first time."
The two Plague Dogs share a their drinks in quiet silence.
Damien McEwan eventually slams his empty bottle on the bar, & quickly turns & heads towards the Ampitheatre's command console.
"MIC!!!" he growls over the dull roar of the crowd, as one of the staph members tosses one down from the square elevated area, without missing a beat.
Marburg snatches the mic from the air as he turns towards the fight-pit...his duster flowing in the currents of air in his wake.
"LADIES & GENTELMEN...MAY I DIRRRECT YOUR ATTENTION TO THE PIIITT!!!" He addresses to the crowd, while entering the fighting ring, shedding his coat & removing his shirt, revealing a very large tattoo of the Marburg Virus across his chest.
Damien scans the faces in the cavern for a moment before he raises the mic back up to his lips, & quietly says:
"i quit."
OOOOoooooo!!!! replies the gathering crowd, as Caulobacter Phage stands, downs his drink, and approches the pit himself.
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