Category Archives: 04

00440407 (change)

“Don’t forget about Lichen’s 4 Stomach Tour,” I tried to ground Fern.

“Of course not. But back to immediate business. Black Wall.” Then she forgot. Again.

“Right, right.” I shook my head internally while nodding on the outside. Fern didn’t pick up on my doubts, which was a little disconcerting itself. Lack of recognition. Brilliant in so many other ways. But not irony — comedy in another form. I knew we were entering dangerous territory.

She drew more diagrams in the notebook before her, a gray Mead 5 star spiral with 22 holes and approx. 5×7 inch design. “Pre-1906,” she said, still looking down in a pause between scribbles. “Probably around 1893 or maybe even dating back to 1886, hmm. Anyway (she shook her head), we’ll see soon enough. So the Black, the White, the Green will all be in their proper place and not all mixed up during this period. She punctuated the page before her at the appropriate spots, apparently some kind of crude map as I understood now. “Auburn was still Slaughter with its Slaughterhouse Hotel, or close enough, before the scaredypants changed the name.” She scribbles some stuff on top of what I took now as Auburn on the map, near the old conjunction of the Green and White rivers as I knew from previous discussions. “Everything was right. We can even go there, you know — this Slaughterhouse.” She circles Auburn which she’s changed to Slaughter, with a little cartoon house with teeth drawn atop of it to reinforce the link. “Thanks to the magic of Our Second Lyfe. There we’ll meet Middle. Are you grasping this yet?”

“This… has already happened?”  I guessed, thinking of the snake, the tail.

“The Wheel is the middle of the Tarot, or at least the end of it (The Wheel, not the Tarot). 10… you met Tin at another hotel which is perhaps the same hotel — motel — in Room 10. You have arrived.”

“*You* have arrived,” I said. “What happened next?”

“I… drew my gun and opened the door”

“Yes?”

“She turned.”

“Right.”

“Then… black out. Loss of power.  But I recognized her. Tin for sure.”

“Ten,” I said. “The Wheel.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s where Lincoln starts his latest Brain Daze. Not 5 days ago. We’re looking right at it in the beginning. Sunset Motel in the Badlands again. Then he goes and hops on his motorcycle and heads back into town from whence he came, or at least the Rancho Coronado suburb. Leaves it at another service station there after walking around a while, finding stuff, interacting with people.” I end my quick review of the BD, wait for Fern to chip in. But she wasn’t there any longer. Where’d she go?

—–

“Are you Lincoln?” she said at the start, knowing it was truth.

“Yes? How’d–”

“You’re heading the wrong way. You need to go further into the desert.”

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0044, 0407, Badlands, Blue Feather Sea+, C2077, Kabusie, Maebaleia/Satori

00440406

“It’s obvious that Hellboy (as she called him) is the Man in the Middle — this Middle Slaughter. And you know what that means?”

“No,” I said, lost in Fern’s brilliance per usual.

“It means we have to get to Slaughter before *it* gets to us. Black Wall. Diversion.”

Always the Black Wall for Fern lately. Where’s lighthearted Lichen when you need her?

“Pack your bags,” she then said. “We’re heading for Auburn.”

“Alabama?” I said. “What’s there?”

“Washington,” she corrected. “Like George. C’mon, let’s eat some cereal together and I’ll lay us out a plan.” She knew I was just a fill-in for Lichen but she had no one else at the time.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0044, 0406, C2077, City Center, Washington

00440405 (Big Ear (Breakfast at Tippany’s))

—–

“Thank you for meeting with me [delete name].”

“Did I have any choice?”

“Not really,” Jer Left Horn answered. “Now about my brother.”

—–

“What did my brother tell you?” Benny Right Horn asked right off the bat.

“That you’re a liar and don’t trust anything you have to say. You’re a Democrat. That’s what he called you.”

“Well he’s a Republican,” the right horned one of the brothers responded. “They lie even more. They lie *all* the time, not just some of it.”

“He said… that only one can continue. The other must end. What does he mean?”

Benny pondered this for a second. “That only one of us is the true Horn. Where the message came through. Problem is, no one knows which is which. Tipping point,” he ended his point.


Breakfast Aisle

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00440404 (An Emily for Rose (The Zombies got it backwards (or at least that’s how it was sold to her)))

Well, she thinks. I believe I’ve waited long enough. Sticky Rose name problem solved, there’s no excuses left. Time to go into the hole. Just a short gondola ride away via that cable line over there.

—–

Soon she was in the gift shop, not very grossed out atall so far. She, like many others before her, found the fleshy environment, let’s say, kinda comforting actually. Like crawling back into the womb or sumtin. And there’s that hum, like an abstracted, dumbed down lullaby. Some find it unsettling. Not her. She’s one of the gifted ones; one of the people that could succeed down here (the pit thinks for her). She purchases a small yet expensive book about one of its many “grotesque,” flesh dependent creatures and moves on.

At the end of the 4th and last corridor to this entry level: dead end, with ominous tones beyond even for her, the gifted and perhaps the damned if she proceeds. Dare she jump over the barrier and experience the flesh directly beneath her feet, squish squish squish? Tempting… tempting!

Then she thinks of the deaths, and wonders why they don’t get that much publicity beyond scattered reports here and there in the media, seeming to almost treat them like jokes when they do pop up. The cover-up must go way up, she realizes, all the way to the president perhaps, a man soon to be named G. Cleveland if things go terribly wrong and time loops back on itself, mirroring what happened in the late 1800s. Best to stay down here until it all blows over, she decides. If she jumps over this barricade, maybe she can find a safe place to hide deeper down in the pit.

And this, of course, is where everything (first?) goes terribly wrong. For Rose Emily.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0044, 0404, Maebaleia/Satori, X-City

00440403 (more Greenies at Kabusie Roundabout (see novel 43 section 06))

She watched the two Greenies (shirts) go down the corridor that the camera just emerged from and decided to follow suit…

… taking along her own tag-along Greenie, Burt I believe (hair).

And more green tiles too.

Like Lester (name?) before her, she steps from green onto gray in the 2nd of our 2 screen captures above, thinking of war. Suddenly green hatted Evelyn Ginger looks on, seeming to understand the significance.

The police continue to walk the thin white line and try not to see the difference.

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00440402

“No you don’t understand,” she said calmly but firmly after the proposition. “I’m through with you now. You can go back home… the North Pole or whatever. Some circle of ice. I have someone else to meet. And a name change involved — tricky business. So… shoo.”

He shoos. RosE T. takes his place across from her.

She tried to be inconspicuous when listening in, but *this* Rose was indeed curious how the discussion would go. She already had a twin next door with the same name. They bickered all the time about who to call what. A 3rd would *definitely* not do. Tin knows this, she understood. Tin will set her straight. If she wants to stay. Because otherwise… blood may be on her hands.

He walked into the next establishment over, determined to succeed with his proposition. “Buy a pretty lady a drink?” he said to the tender. Rose, he observed. Name seems so familiar, *she* seems so familiar. But of course, he realized, recalling the twin not 50 feet away. This is the sticky name change situation Tin mentioned. I understand now why she didn’t have time for me. Potential blood on her hands. Pretty Roses always come with pricking thorns.

“Yeah, not going to happen,” said Rose T. firmly but calmly back. *Now* what? Tin thought.

Then, knowing this particular Rose got her name from a Zombies album, she figured out another angle of attack.

(to be continued)

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00440401 (4×4)

“Will it work?” I asked her, this Lexi of brain-daze editing notoriety, currently building a robot, currently perhaps also my lover.

“I think so. Came in from Montana just yesterday. Stayed up all night putting together the thing after unpacking it. Box labelled ‘Live Cargo,’ funnily enough. I don’t know why.” She turned away from me back to the cityscape she so loved from this vantage point, her mid to upscale apartment in Kabusie. “End of the tracks, last of the train,” she’d said about this stop in her life. She expected to die here, I took it. Exploration of the network of ditches would be her magnum opus, a cumulative marriage of tech and art. Compared to that, I was just along for the ride. Sitting across from her, listening to the rails while I could. Full speed ahead.

I turned to the pseudo-flathead mechanoid on her work table. Not Arasaka quality, but she said there’d be compensations for this. Legal, obviously. But Lexi had designed some special AI components, borderline rogue she’d described them. “Approaching the Black Wall,” she said about them. “But *careful* not to cross.”

“Of course.”

—–

In another BD I found myself staring at the same scene, Lexi and her Ralph as she eventually called the robot. It was a much less smooth ride this time. Shaky, but not from nerves. Lower quality overall. A metal hit from the 60s by Everfat blared from the nearby stereo system, perhaps a remake of a Fats Domino and/or Everly Brothers song from a century before. Maybe an anniversary thing. Anyway…

“Who are you?” Still at the window, still staring out but only staring at blinds this time.

“Lincoln,” I said.

“Get out, get OUT,” she said, not wanting to hear that type of name in her apartment. Not since Madison.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0044, 0401, C2077, Kabusie, Montana

00430416 (Edward D. too)

Yup. Still following me.

Footsteps behind. Still no chance for that chat, pheh.

Nor here.

Mental note: I’ve seen him spying on me in 2 clubs now in different parts of the city. He’s ready.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0043, 0416, C2077, Kabusie, NIGHTSITY

00430415 (The One)

“Here. Let me play walk you through this.”

I wanted to go up and ask them, “Are you girls UK Cracks??”, but I knew better. This was a specific gang formed to protect those of their kind. Like the great majority of things in this world, they don’t cater well to humor — *cracks* as it were. Besides, the color schemes were different, with more greens and yellows involved along with frizzier hair as I recall. More Africa than Asia. So after carefully navigating around this wrong trio, I went on to find the right one, or at least the right one of the right one. Blue Moon Kentucky, named for a specific village in a specific state. Specific again. In the marketplace roundabout, or so legend goes.

—–

I’m sure I had the right location: a Zuru-Zuru ramen shop with a number 24 neon sign. Other stores in the area had the same sign but I’m certain this is the one. I’d completed the needed Police related mission, found the body at the bottom of that damn Petrochemistry dam. Dead all right. Thrown over the edge only to bounce back up again here. There’s plenty of evidence for it. Could, of course, be a ghost though. Or an indicator.

If only she were here I could simply ask. If only there were another, *roundabout* way to *crack* this egg. Say… Our Second Lyfe?

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00430414

They were out of horse so they had to get dressed and read one of their many dusty books for entertainment. 5 shots you’re dead, but they weren’t there yet. Edward selected an ironically colored blue book about Mars he’d stopped in about 5 months ago, when the shipment came in and the dishes started to pile up and the water started running out the door. Shelley was reading this blog, in fact this sentence. She speaks as if channeling.

“I hear Baker Bloch is thinking about shutting down his involvement in Our Second Lyfe. We’ll, *I* won’t let that happen.” She pivots around to Edward as instructed, who she can tell isn’t listening, absorbed in his guided dreams about the red planet. “Will we?!” she shouted over.

“W-what? What are you on about now?” he spoke, not prying his eyes from the letters and words and sentences and paragraphs before him but thinking about something else now. Horses — wish they still had some of that shipment left.

“I *said* — dreamer — that we won’t let Baker give up on Our Second Lyfe.”

“Oh.” He settled back, ready to return to his book. “But that won’t happen. As long as you’re the third…”

“… which is actually the first,” she completed. He was reading again, not worried atall about the matter. After a minute:

“Edward?” No answer.

“*Edward*.”

“W-what is it *now*?” He looks up from the pages.  A foal was about to be born. He was very involved in the details, wondered if he should try his hand at running a farm himself. Red dirt turned to red dust. But no electricity, he remembered. Shelley must play her guitar.

“I’m ready to go back.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0043, 0414, Black Ice, Jeogeot, MARS, NWES Island