Although "Billy's" introductions had been terse, and bereft of anything except the men's names, Reggie had a good feeling about these five. Eris had brought him a pentabarf to help complete his task.. how fitting!
As the Oro.de.Veranda undocked from Belfast, Reggie was amazed at the hodgepodge of ships these unknowns flew. Billy and Marc Lawrence piloted a sleek Borderworlds Transport. The "Dietrich.Strauf", piloted by the one called Michael, was either a large or advanced Train. Thompson and York flew a large freighter or transport which looked surprisingly like a bloated Molly or Rogue VHF. Along with Reggie's Kushan Freighter, they made a rather disparate fleet.
Michael Scofield commenced the transfer of what appeared to be harmless food crates to Reggie's small freighter. The man explained that they contained enough HE to bring Reggie's load of plutonium and deuterium to critical mass when placed and exploded correctly. Reggie set his small crew to work placing the conventional HE exactly as Michael directed. Everything was wired to be detonated remotely... This was one ride that Reggie and his crew would not be taking in person.
An hour later, all was ready. Reggie transferred the promised fifty million creds to the Einmyria, and fully expected the strangers to head straight for Inverness and home, wherever that might be. He was flabbergasted when all the men expressed a desire to see the results of Michael's handiwork. Never one to turn down company, or help in a unknown situation, Reggie set course for Sunderland Research station and the target which lay alonside it.. the prison of their eternal foe's secret weapon, the Ancient One, Yog Sothot.
Micheal couldnt wait to see if his crates would actually work, he worked on them for days, but you never know. Maybe this Eris would stick her nose into this bussiness and make sure it wouldnt work. Meh, he didn't know, all he ever heared about this Eris was that she was the mother of chaos and disorder. Micheal was anxious too meet her, but somehow he knew it was never going too happen.
The Oro.de.Verande wasn't wasting any time on his mission. Reggie had his mind set too something and he was not letting it go. The short meet and greet that they had, showed an old man of strong posture, with a distinct determination in his eyes. Micheal couldn't care less now, the old man payed Richard, so he was sure too get his share.
**Moments later**
The time had come, Reggie yelled one last time of the ships comm Fellers!!!! Time too move, Billy has prepared us enough seats and even made tea
Reggie engaged the Auto-pilot and was beamed too the Botany Bay...
Yes i read the rules.
Yes i will follow them.
No im not perfect.
Yes i will ask my "stupid" questions
Please tell me when my english is bad, i will correct it, im not very good at it
The time Reggie had spent buying drinks on Sunderland Research station paid off. As he four ships approached the Nomad Relic, a single BAF patrol hailed them as it flew leisurely past. "Heya, Reggie! Four ships this time, Guv'nor? Hope they're loaded with the good stuff!" Reggie chuckled to himself.. Oh, yes.. the stuff was good alright.
Two Bounty Hunter patrols were not so amused, but the ships made short of them as they moved inexorably towards the massive complex.. They swung "south" in their approach, to put some distance between themselves and the Grimsby.. they'd soon be awakening a hornet's nest, and wanted the extra time to make their escape.
They hove to within 2 klicks of the nearest shield generator facility. Reggie nervously licked his lips, and reached for the detonator provided by the Mollies. With any luck, a single button would take out all the generators. He said a silent prayer to Eris, and keyed the trigger.
Even in the vacuum, the impact from the near generator could be felt through the hull of the Oro.de. The forward viewports darkened in response to the brilliant white blast of the nuke, and external cameras reduced their gain to compensate. Seconds later, the results could be seen.. shards of the nearest generator facility were slowy floating outwards from the explosion site, and the eerie violet of the Relic's containment shield began to flicker and weaken.
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The other ships reported in similar blasts from the circumference of the artifact. The shields were going down as planned. It was time to begin moving the Oro.de towards the central structure.. The timing would be critical.. Reggie's Pineal could already sense a malevolant force stirring inside the structure. The Ancient One knew that It had been released. The hunger Reggie felt from Yog Sothot was almost a solid, tangible thing. Reggie hoped with all his soul that half a gigaton of nuclear explosion would be sufficient to silence this threat to humanity forever,
"Reggie... you better, hurry, sah!" Billy sat rigid in the pilot's chair of the Botany Bay. He was deathly pale, and shivered violently. "I can feel that ugly mutha.. and It can feel us!"
Reggie gritted his own teeth, and focused on piloting the Oro.de as fast as possible to the exact center of that maelstrom of evil. As the ship closed the last kilometer, a crackling blue presence began to form above the central structure.. it began to solidfy into a huge, hideous, multi-tentacled, multi-clawed beast with glowing red eyes! Was this where the eye which adorned the Illuminati's famed pyramid had originated? Well, by Thud and by Eris, they would just have to find another Icon! Reggie quickly made a slight course correction, and saw one huge tentacle of the creature Yog Sothot reach out towards the small freighter. Reggie mashed down a final button on the remote piloting console, and he and Billy staggered as the Botany Bay bucked from the force of the blast.
Through a daze, Reggie heard inbound traffic.. "We've got inbound, fellas! Grimsby is launching multiple wings! Can we get the Hell outta here now?" That would be Michael, scanning for bogies on their port flank.
Reggie shook his head to clear it.. and stared out the viewport. There was not even a shard of the Oro.de.Veranda left to see. More importantly, the solidifying form of the Ancient One had disappeared. Reggie closed his eyes and focused inward, just to be certain. Nothing. The malevolence was gone.
"Yes, lads.. we can go. Blast for the cloud.. I recommend Inverness. You can be home in no time if you sneak through Cortez and Cali to the Canadian systems.. piece of bloody pie!"
"Oh, and drop me off at Curacao, would you? I think I've earned myself a life as an Inn owner and gentleman Luxury Liner Captain!"
Reginald Waverly looked over to Billy tranton, who had sucked down 4 of the cocktails already. His face was flushed and the warm Curacao sun was murdering Billy's fair skin.
"ZZZZZZZZZZ...snort.....eh?"
"Better pass on the 2nd one Raoul."
Reggie sipped his drink thoughtfully, stirring the ice with a mint leaf while his companion groaned with a pre-hangover.
Behind him Reggie felt the presence of Billy's silent companion, Mark Lawrence. How long he had been standing there waiting Reggie didn't know.
"Your friend drinks with singular purpose Mr. Lawrence."
"Today it seems, yes. He hasn't been the same since.....since the operation."
Reggie turned to look the terrorist in the eye. He knew in that moment had circumstances been altered even the slightest he could have been looking down the barrel of this man's weapon, or worse yet nesting on one of his bombs. Goddess had them all sleeping with lions and courting monsters in this gruesome business. It might have been good for this fanatic to see what Reggie and Billy had, gazing into the maw of Yog Sothat. Billy couldn't quite drink his way deep enough into these Mojitos to escape that vision...and since Lawrence here had completed his job at Belfast and stayed there lest the BPA pick up his scent, he grappled with no such afterimage. Could the Illuminati's beast have changed this one? They would never know.
"You don't have to say it Mr. Lawrence, its time for you to go. Hell, you're making me feel like I have somewhere to go, and I very well know I don't."
The old man stood and helped Mark Lawrence drag Billy Tranton back on board the Botany Bay. They placed him in a rack and tapped in a saline drip to take the edge off.
No goodbyes were offered, nor hands shaken. Waverly disembarked the Botany bay, which gathered its power and lifted mere seconds after the ramp was secured.
The IMG Gunboat completed its docking sequence with the small station. Below the station lay a ruddy brown planetoid, surrounded by orbiting assemblies which would eventually be used in the construction of a much larger station.. Pueblo Bonito.
The station's access port opened, revealing the passageway leading from the [TAZ]Discordia. A small titanium globe floated along the passageway, followed by two crewmen transporting a small, sealed, container.
Suddenly, the passageway was filled with the raucous barking of a small canine, which bounded towards the floating globe.
*Hiya, Wonder Pooch!* transmitted Mama Dis to Fnordie's Neuralnet implant. *I brought the package from the "Scornstar" wreckage. Time to use that little telepathic noodle of yours for some preliminary evaluations.*
*Good, Mama Dis! But Fnordie will wait for some hours. The "entity" inside this box is exhausted and confused! I think it's better if we take container straight into Geode. Let crystal energies infuse the organic muck in there.*
*You're the doctor, Fnordie. If you say we wait, then we wait.* Mama Dis spun towards the waiting crewmen. *Shem! Shaun! Take that container down to the Holy of Holies at Geode center. Treat yourselves to an hour's "swim" as well. Does the ol' Pineal good!*
Fnordie trotted along next to the men and the floating Fnordette. *Mama Dis, I sense that Bossman Mal is ill! His thoughts are not clear! I am worried!*
*Heh.. Fnordie, primates call that a "hangover". Access the Net for "alcohol poisioning". I guess the old fart deserves a bender now and then. It will pass.*
Soon, the organic remains, neurons and synapses, of the human being known as "Scorn" were floating at the focal point of thousands of massive, energized quartz crystals. The wondrous forces of the Goddess Geode had begun their remarkable healing process.
At the center of the "Goddess Geode", there is no gravity. The small hollow planetoid's mass effectively cancels itself in an area approximately 100 meters across.
The kilometer-wide central chamber of the Geode is empty except for a massive dodecahedron, crafted of huge struts made fron Canarian oak. This 20-meter geodesic "Holy of Holies" is anchored in the exact center of the Geode by thick hemp ropes, woven from the fibrous stalks of the infamous Kallisti Gold plant.
Malaclypse pulled himself slowly along the rope leading from the entrance to the geode. He could already feel the curative powers of the crystals which lined the chamber. He shuddered to think how many brain cells had given up the ghost during his wild night on Islay; but contrary to medical opinion, those cells could indeed be replaced and regenerated.. even multiplied, due to the mysterious powers of this place.
Malaclypse smiled as he floated closer to the central structure. The small TAZmutt Fnordie was playing a friendly game of "tag" with several of the numerous "Scrubbies" that inhabited the Geode. The Scrubbies were able to "swim" through the atmosphere they had created inside the planetoid, while Fnordie was limited to propelling himself between the beams of the dodecahedron. Occasionally he would miss his target beam, and the Scrubbies would have to rescue the flailing canine, nudging him gently back towards the beams.
The panting pooch spotted Malaclypse just as he reached the Holy of Holies.
@Malaboss! You come to visit new Fnordette Scorn? Woof!@ The dog's telepathic transmission tickled Mal's Pineal gently. Mal could have answered in the same fashion, but he was rather enamored with the sound of his own voice.
"Yep, Fnordie. Have you seen any improvement since Dis and I uploaded his "remains" into the new transponder?" he nodded towards the small titanium globe which also floated nearby.
Fnordie floated close enough for Mal to grab one of his small paws, licking his stubbly face in greeting. @Scorn is still very scared, Boss. He doesn't "talk" to Fnordie yet. I try make Scorn feel safe now, but he still thinks Big Brain on Gammu will come, capture him again!@
"Well, just don't push him along too quickly, my four-legged friend. Maybe just being around you and your playful companions here will relieve his anxieties.
"As for me, I think I'll just stretch out here and recharge a bit myself. Wake me up in half an hour or so, will you Fnordie?" Mal gave the dog a gentle shove in the direction of the waiting Scrubbies, and the game was on again.
The crystals, inert yet alive, uncaring and unaware of their purpose, continued to work their magick.
Those who repeat history are destined to learn from it.
What has Shamus OShaunessy learned?
That being alive is preferable to being dead. That the taste of an omelette or a good wine lingers, even after the tongue and lips are gone. That being a part of something is better than nothing. That friendship is a priceless commodity. And, that the thought of a smile is a real smile.
What has Sophie Noir learned?
That she is not dependent on others for her livelihood and her happiness. That trust and faith must be earned. And, that once earned, they must not be taken for granted; but must be cherished and protected.
What has Discordia learned?
That the idea of family is not limited to genes and heredity. That being a mother does not end once ones children have left home. And, that family members will leave, while new members will appear to take their places.
What has Reggie Waverly learned?
That losing a loved one is not the end of the world. That one can love again. That happiness is not a factor of where one lives. That change is inevitable. And that one should make the most of both change, and love, when it presents itself.
And finally, what has Malaclypse learned?
That one will always have friends, and one will always have enemies. That defeating or removing one enemy simply makes room for another to appear. That the DeLavancy appearance was a hoax, cruelly perpetrated for an unknown reason. That politics and religion are strange bedfellows. And most importantly, that there is never a shortage of things to learn; but, that Wisdom and Knowledge are two entirely different Kyushan Mud Weasels.
In any Temporary Autonomous Zone, the sight of two or more 23cm pearlescent titanium spheres floating about and "talking" to each other is not unusual. After all, these "F-Units" have become "Free and Accepted" members of the TAZ. They are sentient. They are independent. They are the equal of most primates in matters of trade and diplomacy, and their betters in combat.
However, the two F-units floating at the center of the Goddess Geode in Baffin are unique. They are both "reconstituted", in a sense, having elements of both Artificial and Human intelligence.
Shamus O'Shaunessy was not the first to inhabit his particular globe. It had previously been the "body" of one Sylvia deLuna, deceased. But, Sylvia had chosen to return to the "Hereafter", to join her mother and sister in Eternal rest. Shamus, also deceased from a ridiculous accident on Gran Canaria, just happened to be willing to be "resurrected" as a "Fnordette". Shamus is now known as the "Avenging Angel" of the TAZ.
Pyriel Star is the most recent primate to become a "Fnordette". Pyriel's story is one of loss, imprisonment, and violation by the Machine Intelligence known as "First Thought Giver of Will". During a fierce battle above Gran Canaria, the human component of Pyriel Star was rescued from the debris of a destroyed Zoner Juggernaut. Shamus had foreknowledge that Pyriel had not been completely "absorbed" by FTGW, and wished to escape from its influence.
At the very center of the Goddess Geode, a place of physical and spiritual healing, Shamus was speaking earnestly to the newest F-23 Unit, Pyriel.
*Oi, I hear you're doin' well, chum. So well that ye've been able to contact the Council regardin' the situation on Gammu?* (Shamus' Irish "accent" could of course be modified, but he is rather fond of the affectation.)
*Yes, but I have stated that I will not return to Gammu.* (Pyriel still seems to be searching for comfortable "human" speech patterns.. his immersion in the Harvester collective had been long and traumatic.)
*Well, I've good news, and bad news, Pyriel. The good news is that Mama Dis, Sophie and I have talked with the TAZ "Alpha male", Malaclypse. He has agreed to offer you two choices for your future, and you are completely free to take either option..
*The TAZ will provide you with the means to return to the IMG if you desire. Or, if you wish to remain with the "F-Troop", you will be offerred "conditional" membership in the TAZ. Mal is a bit leery that ye might still slip back into Harvey mode, but the girls and I convinced him to give ye a try.*
Shamus made a very human pause before continuing..
*And now, comes the bad news. Whatever ye decide about yer future direction, Pyriel, the TAZ has a very great need of ye. FTGW has agreed to allow a small expedition to visit Gammu. The purpose will be to try to identify and recreate this "Alpha Code" that FTGW keeps whingein' about. You are the closest thing to an expert on the Harvesters we have, Pyriel. Your presence might be the key to understandin' ol' FTGW and helpin' us reach some peaceful stance with the Harvesters..
*I know you're afraid of em, mate. I don't blame ye in the least. But, ye won't be facin' em alone. I'll be goin', as will our little four-legged friend Fnordie.. he that first contacted ye in that shell ye got. We'll also have some reasonably bright primates along fer company.
*As I said, whatever ye decide, ye'll still be given yer freedom, either as IMG or TAZ, or whatever ye want t' be. Now, what do ye say.. will ye assist the TAZ on this little expedition?*
I...I....*long pause* I dont see why* random sounds that resemble a sharp exhalation* What sort of safe guards will we have? How will we escape if need arises? I know FTGW did not fully understand the concept of lying but, it was trying.
What if it knows now? Can't we just blown blow it up? That machine is a rapist!! Of thoughts.
*The globe, Pyriel hovers quickly back and forth* What about if I maintained an open comm to your ground party, from Gamma? What if we could have Order vessels on standby in the system? Or some Corsair ground troops? I dont want that thing to get me again. My presence may cause it to renege on its deal.
*Whoa, me boy!* interjected Shamus. *Odds are we'll be fine.. We have a capable crew to confront FTGW; and odds are we won't die.. at least any more times than we already have..*
If death was the only consequence then I would have no fear. While I am unable to take my own life and battle to survive, I deserve no less than death. But if that machine........If that thing.........That alien ridden machine get a hold of one of us F-units we are screwed. There will be no death. There will only be unending existence to feed this thing ideas. That is the purpose of the datasyphons besides, data mining.
It used ideas it got from my thought processes to evolve. It is the culmination of my sick fantasies, Zoner technology and Daam Kavash exploration.
It may be duped or tricked into peaceful coexistence but, it is young by it's own standards and prone to temper tantrums like a over sized two year old "Primate" Only it has gunships for fingers.
*So, yes, we should expect some chicanery and obfuscation, as well as a snit or two. What else would you suggest if FTGW won't listen to reason, Pyriel?*
Heck try coding the machine right at the main frame. See if that helps. Tell it to kill Nomads, collect garbage, police trade lanes, whatever.
I just really dont want to go so maybe if ya'll decide not to kill it. I dont think you'll survive trying. Then maybe you can repurpose it or, lock out certain targets.
I did see it was placed in the old colonial bunker. It has a factory some 30,000 meter under the surface of the planet. The original mainframe has been moved there. To shelter from Corsair bombardment should it have failed to make peace with the Corsairs, or be noticed by the Order.
What do you think Shamus? Is this enough to excuse me? I will help and in the end if push comes to shove, then I will go. I guess I owe my mother this much having nearly harvested her.
RMD-169, if you ever find this droid. I must know. It ran with my mother in it's arms from ME. I last saw it on Islay.
Pyriel sinks into deep thought not noticing Shamus still hovering near by. The memory of these F-units recalled as effortlessly as in it does in life only so much more detailed and vivid. Pyriel bearly transmits in frequencies youd have to be a Fnordian to receive, I must think Ill talk with you again.
Malaclypse sat zazen with Appendix Gimmel open before him. He had known the result before he had even let the book fall open; but had consulted the treatise on the five stages of history as an exercise in confirmation.
History as Sirius knew it was about to end.
Of course, it would take only a few beats of the Cosmos heart, and the Cycle of History would begin to repeat again; yet it seemed that Grummet was exiting the stage with a vengeance this time. Malaclypse began to read the Appendix entry for Grummet:
The fifth stage, Grummet or aftermath, represents the transition back to chaos. Bureaucracy chokes in its own paperwork; mind is at the end of its tether; in desperation, many begin to deny the logogram and follow the biogram, with varying degrees of success.
Bureaucracies all across Sirius were indeed choking, and spewing out mindless restrictions on freedom.. Embargos and tariffs on trade, restrictions on access, licenses to trade on nearly everything but fertilizer and food, kneejerk reactions to any and all perceived threats. This created a situation ripe for dissent and outright disobedience to these oppressive and crushing moves.
This correlates with Hermaphrodite; with I Ching hexagram 59, Huan, dispersion, dissolution, foam on the water; with the number 5, union of male and female; with the 6th trump of the Tarot, the Lovers, indicating union; and with the sun. On the Zodiac: Virgo.
Ahh, theres some consolation, Eris. Theres a Five in there for You, at least Malaclypse continued to read the entry on Grummet..
The age of Grummet begins with an upsurge of magicians, hoaxers, Yippies, Kabouters, shamans, clowns, and other Eristic forces. The relevant I Ching hexagram is 59, Huan, dispersion and dissolution. The gentle wind above the deep water is the Chinese reading of the image, with associations of loss of ego, separation from the group, and "going out" in general. Yin lines dominate all but the top of the hexagram; the forces leading to a new Verwirrung stage are pushing upward toward release.
New groups and new relations seemed to be forming every day, in every House of Sirius, in response to the crushing bureaucracies. Mal could think of half a dozen groups which had formed to push back this rise in the Hodge. But, of course, the Aneristic militaries and groups merely responded with more restrictions on human freedoms. Mal was reminded of another Discordian Catma: Imposition of Order = Escalation of Chaos.. a vicious circle which humanity seemed destined to continue.
This is also called Paralysis by the Illuminati, because, objectively, nothing much is happening; subjectively, of course, the preparations for the new cycle are working unconsciously.
Here again, Malaclypse could see parallels in the news every day. A number of major Factions had become less active, as if purposely waiting for some new development which might change the game at any moment. Mals Pineal was in agreement to a degree. The increase in rumors about a completely new area of the Sector were too persistent to ignore. Obviously, other leaders had heard the same rumors, and were biding their time until they were either confirmed or disproved.
The mystic number is 5, union of male (3) with female (2) and final resolution of conflict between Verwirrung and Zweitracht.
Mal smiled, and made the Holy bike/trike sign with his left hand. Two fingers raised for the bike, thumb and two fingers closed for the trike.
The governing Tarot trump is number 6, the Lovers, in which the woman looks upward at the angel (Eris, the bio-gram) and the man looks at the woman (the logogram, yang, reaches synthesis with biogram, yin, only through reconciliation with the female). Hence, the upsurge of feminism in such periods, together with a renewed emphasis on clans, tribes, and communes.
Again, the evidence for this feminine upsurge was as plain as the nose on your face. More and more women were choosing sides, taking arms and ships, and making their statements in ways commonly reserved for the male primates. Even the Fnordettes were growing in numbers, and taking more of a role in TAZ affairs besides cooking pies and hauling cargo.
After Grummet, of course, authority has collapsed entirely, and the biogram stands on equal footing with the logogram. Hodge and Podge being once again in dynamic balance, a new Verwirrung period begins, and the cycle repeats.
It was more than the rumors, more than a newly discovered yet mysterious minefield in Orkney, more than the choking bureaucracies, and more than the upsurge in splinter groups and amazon women warriors
It was his strong belief in Appendix Gimmel, and a pressure between his eyes which told Mal that history was very soon about to end..
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