UF: The Universe According to Chris, Part I [FanFic]
Robotech_Master
PROLOGUE
"There's a starman waiting in the sky; he'd like to come and
visit us, but he thinks he'd blow our minds..."
--David Bowie, "Starman"
<<<David Bowie, "Space Oddity">>>
SEPTEMBER 18TH, 1993
(20 minutes into the future...)
In orbit around the planet Earth, a space shuttle hung
"upside-down," its dorsal side facing the planet. This shuttle
strongly resembled those owned by NASA, save that it was a bit
slimmer, a bit sleeker, and also had the GENOM corporate logo all
over it.
The bay doors slowly slid open, and something slowly deployed
outward. It was not the mechanical arm that these shuttles also
carried; rather, it resembled some kind of giant laser gun.
In the flight deck of the shuttle, four gleaming metallic
figures sat and worked the controls. Or, more correctly, they
were PLUGGED INTO the controls, via organic-metal tendrils that
extended from arms and chest.
There was also a human on board, a young man in a lab coat,
wearing a light communication headset with a dark visor and
strapped into a seat at a console facing backward, into the bay.
He was busily typing instructions into computer keyboards, and
pressing buttons and adjusting slide controls.
A mechanical-sounding voice rasped in his headset. It was
the metallic figure at the pilot station. "Systems are go.
Shuttle is stable. Stand by to energize."
"Roger that," the technician replied. Part of the control
panel slid open, and the tech placed a little metal block inside
with a "G" stamped on it. The block slid away, the panel closed,
and some lights that had not previously been on lit up. "Ready
for activation," he said smoothly. "Request control interlock
for automatic Buma targeting assist."
"Confirmed," the Buma replied. More tendrils extended
from all four of the Bumas and plugged into their respective
control consoles. "Control interlock achieved...targeting..."
On a screen in front of the technician, a glowing circle and
other computer data junk appeared superimposed over part of the
Nevada desert. It zoomed in to a small platform set up, with a
few old BU-55 Bumas standing on it. "We have target lock."
The human technician was half-grinning now. All those years
at MIT and then GENOM's training facilities were about to pay
off. If this worked, he was certain to be promoted. Perhaps
he'd even get his own department!
He reached out, snapped some more switches, raised a red
safety cover, and placed his index finger on the redly-glowing
button underneath it. "Ready for transmission."
"You are go to start the countdown," the Buma rasped.
"Authorization received and acknowledged," the technician
replied, pressing the red button. There was a hum, and the tech
felt the vibrations through the deck as the device powered up.
He read the countdown off the screen, even though it wasn't
necessary since the Bumas were receiving the data directly.
"Ten...nine...eight..." His excitement rose as the numbers
decreased. Lightning started to play around the glass cylinder
that was the tip of the deployed device.
Then something went wrong. The Buma copilot sparked,
sizzled, and shorted out, electricity arcing between it and its
console. Red lights started going on all over the tech's control
board. "Abort! Abort!" he yelled, pressing buttons frantically.
But the countdown continued, inexorably. And in the cargo bay,
the raygun-like device shifted slightly, almost imperceptibly.
3...2...1...activation. The cannon tip glowed brilliantly,
and then projected the lighting in a blue beam that lanced down,
down, through the atmosphere, but not into Nevada. Instead, the
focus of the beam was in Southwestern Missouri...
THE UNIVERSE ACCORDING TO CHRIS
PART 1
(Hey, it looks like a good title to me...doesn't it?)
Starring:
Chris/Mako Chris Meadows
Joe Joe Moore
Temper Katie Tanner
GENOM Bumas in J. Random Slightly
Space Shuttle Defective BU-55/c
Bumas
X-man J. Random Fighter
Pilot Extra
Eyeball Michael Rossen
Planetfall Carl Ellin
Zenith Larry Forbes
Scalpel Janet Walker
Retractor Jay Walker
Expo Amy Nihuan
Lord Fahrvergnugen Baron Lord Wolfgang
Amadeus Fahrvergnugen
Gryphon Ben Hutchins
MegaZone Brian Bikowicz
ReRob Robert Mandeville
Kei Kei Morgan
Yuri Yuri Daniels
Deedlit Deedlit Satori
PCHammer Martin F. Rose
pfloyd Adam Johnson
Cameos By:
Aaron Aaron Meadows
Alex Alex Meadows
Macquivr, q John Todd
Noriko Noriko Takaya
Based on characters and situations
created by MegaZone, Gryphon, ReRob,
Reality, PCHammer, et al
An Overworked, Underslept Student
Production
Special Effects by Academic Gloom and
Mundanity, Inc.
Music by Box of Tapes, Inc.
Catering by Sack Lunches R Us
Anything Else by Whoever Thought of it
at the Time
Original Mecha Designs by Chris Meadows,
Dave Deitrich, and Friends
DEDICATIONS:
For my parents (of course).
For all my friends, in both physical and virtual proximity
For the whole gang from the Worst Place Imaginable, plus PCHammer,
for the best anime fanfic epic EVER--you know the one I mean
(ESPECIALLY for Gryphon, whom I drove crazy.)
For Dave Deitrich and Jason Juta, my collaborators on the
Robotech Post-Invid RPG supplement which is mentioned herein
and may soon be available for anonymous FTP
For Kei and Yuri, just because
For Larry Niven, for the Kzin, and Origin Games, for the Kilrathi
For Isaac and Janet Asimov, for Norby (You'll be missed, Isaac)
For Gene Roddenberry, for obvious reasons (You too will be missed)
For Rose Estes, for the Greyhawk Adventures trilogy that was the
reason I didn't get any sleep at all last night
For the fine folks at TSR, Palladium, R. Talsorian Games, West End
Games, FASA, Steve Jackson Games, West End Games, and any
other gaming company I might have left out
For Carl Macek, because nobody else would
And also...
For Katie Tanner
CHAPTER 1
"Transition...transmission..."
--David Bowie, "TVC 15"
"Hey, this IS good," Chris Meadows said, finishing the
Mushroom and Swiss burger. Aaron and Alex Meadows, his
3-years-younger brothers, nodded. "And look here, with these
points, I can get a free sheet of football cards. Whoop-de-do."
Joe Moore, at 16 one year younger than Aaron and Alex,
nodded. "'shrooms are great!" he said. "Well, I have to get
back to work now..." He got up and walked back over behind the
counter. Chris waved to him as he went.
It was actually a pretty slow day in the McDonald's on East
Battlefield, Springfield, Missouri. Chris, Aaron, and Alex were
the only customers in it at the moment, and in fact, Joe was the
only person in the back. Everyone else had gone on break and
left Joe to watch the grill (not quite in keeping with
regulations, but...)
Chris yawned, and said, "I guess we'd better get going.
Let's head on over to Aladdin's Castle and get some tokens."
Aaron had just opened his mouth to agree to that, when
everything went blue.
As the beam completed its work, the technician tried
frantically to correct the problem. He'd put out the electrical
fire caused by the defective Buma with a nearby extinguisher,
and was pounding commands into the keyboard to try and steady the
ship so he could refire the beam and put back whatever it had
dematerialized. If he could just undo the damage the beam had
done before anybody noticed, he MIGHT be able to keep his head.
But the copilot had been tied into the shuttle's maneuvering
guidance system when it had shorted out, and now the shuttle was
moving unpredictably. And the beam projector was still operating
according to the preprogrammed sequence.
So, just as one of the shuttle's maneuvering verniers fired,
rolling the shuttle over and causing the cannon to face outward,
the beam refired, sending a long stream of coherent energy
somewhere out into the cosmos. Shortly after the beam had
completed firing, the whole apparatus exploded in the cargo bay,
cracking but not quite puncturing the glassite windows looking
back into the bay. And the technician knew that Largo was not
going to be happy about this...
OCTOBER 27, 1993
(39 Days Later...)
I must be unconscious. That was Chris's first thought.
Then: But waitaminnit...if I'm unconscious, why did everything go
BLUE instead of BLACK? That's NOT the way it works...
It wasn't a bad blue, though. Kind of a pretty color,
actually. Lotta fluctuations (looked like fractal designs, kinda
like in SCORCHED EARTH 1.2) and stuff to keep it interesting.
And then it faded away, and everything inside the McDonald's
returned to normal. Sort of.
"What WAS that?" Joe asked. "Sunstroke?"
"You felt it too?" Chris asked.
"Me, too," Aaron said. "That was weird."
"I think that you'll find this is weirder yet," Alex said.
"Look!" He was standing by the window, and pointing out. The
others took a look. And goggled.
"I don't think we're in Springfield anymore, Toto..." Chris
said slowly.
And indeed, they didn't seem to be. Instead of a parking
lot and a busy street, the vista that met their eyes was of
ancient-seeming structures, somehow graceful and advanced at the
same time. They...radiated extreme age somehow. The style
reminded Chris of ancient Greece or Rome...or perhaps Tirol?
Off in the distance, there was a gleaming tower that went
higher and higher into the golden sky until...until it vanished
from sight. Closer were coloseum-like buildings, and perhaps
theatres, and monuments...and other structures that looked like
nothing Chris could remember.
They all stood there in shock for perhaps ten minutes,
wondering where they were, what had happened, had that blue beam
had anything to do with it, if they would ever see home again,
was anybody out there, what they would eat, was Elvis really
dead, and other things. Then Joe realized, "Well, at least we
won't have to worry about what to eat..."
Chris looked, around him, chuckled, and then laughed. They
all laughed, for it was true. They were in a MCDONALD'S, for
Pete's sake. Though it might not be very palatable, at least
they had food for the duration. They all stopped laughing when
they realized they were becoming a bit hysterical, and tried to
calm down.
"I think the first thing we need to do is get some stuff
together," Chris said, taking charge. "Food, and anything handy
we can find around here. Maybe even weapons, if we have them."
"All right," Aaron said. "I'll look around in the kitchen
and Alex can check the janitor's closet. Joe can wrap up a few
burgers, to go."
Oddly enough, the electricity was still on, though they
couldn't tell where it was coming from, so Joe didn't have any
problems cooking the burgers, the fries, or whatever. After
putting sixteen Big Macs in sacks, he put them in his school
knapsack (leaving the notebooks and textbooks behind), and went
to join Aaron in his kitchen search. Chris looked around under
the counter for whatever he could find.
After they all finished, Aaron walked back over to the table
they'd been sitting at and picked up the camouflage shirt/jackets
they'd gotten at army surplus stores, and picked up their web
belts. With combat knife sheathes on them.
"Hey, you brought those?" Chris asked.
"Never without them." He grinned. The belts had pouches on
them containing various "survival equipment"--compasses,
first-aid stuff, and the like--that they'd bought from army
surplus stores or ordered through the mail. And they had knife
sheathes.
Aaron's knife was a "USMC combat knife" (Chris wasn't sure
whether or not it was the actual model the USMC used for combat,
probably not since the handle was plastic, but it was styled
after the K-BAR). Alex's was a 5 1/2" bladed Yugoslavian 440C
Bratstvo-Ohrid survival/combat knife, with saw teeth across the
back and a hollow, machine-milled handle (which currently had
nothing in it). Alex also had a 5 1/2" double-edged boot knife,
the kind with the wooden handle that is balanced for throwing.
It had originally been Chris's, but Alex had permanently
"borrowed" it.
Aaron also had a machete, in a leather sheath he'd made
himself that fit across his back. He grinned, strapped it on.
Now, they were just about ready.
Chris stopped them when he saw them dragging the can of
kerosene out of the janitor's closet. "What is THAT for?" he
asked.
"Uh, removing bubble gum from tables?" Alex tried
innocently.
"We're exploring, not looking to start a war," Chris said.
"Oh, all right," Alex said. "Darn it." He put the kerosene
back, and pulled out a wooden-handled mop. He carefully
unscrewed the head and tossed it aside. "There." He now held a
staff in his hands. "Can I at least take this?" he asked.
"All right," Chris decided. He guessed it would make them
feel better. Even though they didn't have any real experience
fighting with either knife or staff, they had spent a lot of time
stick-fighting in the back yard when they were younger so they
could probably do okay with the weapons. "But I don't want you
getting violent if we meet anybody. For all we know, they could
be friendly."
They also found a butcher knife, which Joe took, and a meat
cleaver for Chris. And a couple of flashlights in the closet.
It wasn't much, but at least it was something.
"Are we ready to go?" Joe asked, shouldering his backpack.
"Yeah, sure," Chris decided. He shouldered his own pack,
and they walked out through the doors.
CHAPTER 2
"And you might find yourself in another part of the world..."
--Talking Heads, "Once in a Lifetime"
The foursome walked across the stone-cobbled square, out
away from the McDonald's. Looking back, the Golden Arches really
looked garish and out of place here in this land of smooth,
sculptured stone arches. The place stuck out like a sore thumb.
Alex had his compass out. "It seems to work...or, at least,
it's pointing in one direction."
"Okay, we'll call that north, then," Chris decided. "Come
on, let's head this way."
"Aren't we going to go into any of the buildings?" Joe asked.
Chris shook his head. "I don't think so. There's no one
around, but all the same, it feels like we're trespassing. What
we want, I think, is that." He pointed at the tower that reached
farther up into the sky than he could see. "I think we'll find
the answer there." Alex started to open his mouth. "Don't ask
me how I know, just trust me." Alex shrugged, and closed his
mouth.
<<<Kansas, "Point of Know Return">>>
So, they hiked. They didn't say much to each other during
the hike--what was there to say? Aaron and Alex grumbled about
having to wait for Chris, who was not a fast walker; Joe grumbled
about the love of his life, his 1968 Dodge Dart, which had been
left behind in the parking lot; and Chris just grumbled. But
they were all looking ahead to the tower, which grew larger and
larger as they approached, but continued to be quite far away.
As they hiked, they saw not a single living soul. Or a dead
soul. Or any soul, for that matter. (What the heck does a soul
look like, anyway?) They did see lots of buildings, and
aquaducts, and other architectural features, like fountains.
Most of the fountains were still running, a tribute to the
ingenuity of their designers, perhaps. Chris found it a trifle
spooky, and took to looking over his shoulder a lot.
Chris also snapped pictures. He had about 17 shots
remaining on his roll, and there was another one in his pocket.
He didn't miss Aaron and Alex's exchanged glances and screw-loose
signs. He KNEW that there was probably no place to get them
developed, but he preferred to think of it as a gesture of
optimism. And habit--Chris was an unrepentant amateur
shutterbug.
The tower was a long way off...they hiked for hours to get
there, stopping once to eat on the way.
As they approached the tower, Chris gawked. He blinked.
Then gawked again. "PLEASE tell me you don't see what I'm seeing
right now. And PLEASE tell me that sign doesn't say what I think
it does."
The "tower" was wide at the base, narrowing as it got
higher. A glass or glassite tube rose out of the top, stretching
away into infinity. And there was a large rectangular sign on it
that said KONICA.
There were four widely open mouths at this point. At last,
it was Joe who spoke first. "A beanpole elevator! Just like in
Project EDEN!"
"This is absolutely completely TOO WEIRD," Chris said,
looking around as if he expected "Mystery Zone" to start playing
at any second. "Okay, okay. We've died and gone to Japan. What
next?"
Aaron shrugged. "What indeed?" he said. "Might as well go
up. Maybe there'll be some people there or something."
So they walked on, into the tower. Chris had half-expected
there to be guards or something at the base (and so had Aaron and
Alex, who readied their knives), but there was no one. It was
eerie.
The elevator car was highly luxurious, featuring couches,
table, balcony, panoramic windows, etc. "Wow!" Joe said. "This
is just like--"
"Don't say it," Chris said. "Just don't say it." Looking
around, he managed to locate the controls. They were actually
pretty simple--two triangular buttons, one pointing up, one down.
There was also a viewscreen and some controls which Chris assumed
to be for communication, but he left them alone for now and
poised his finger over the UP button.
<<<Bruce Hornsby and the Range, "Jacob's Ladder">>>
"Get ready, everyone." Chris pressed it. For a moment,
nothing happened. Then, with barely any sound at all, the room
began to move upward, rising up, up, up. As the room got higher,
they were treated to a panoramic view of the area, and could see
that the city went on for miles and miles and miles.
Chris didn't look very much, as he really, REALLY hated
heights. But he did snap a few pictures, and he tried to spot
where their McDonald's had landed. He thought he saw it. And
there were a couple of airplanes in the air over it, fighter
planes. They looked like...they looked like...oh no. He turned
away as they started to slow down, because if they were what he
thought they were, he definitely did NOT want to see it. He
didn't think he could handle this yet.
They got higher and higher (not from chemicals, but over the
planet), and the sky darkened and the world began to curve
underneath them. They could see the continents, landmasses.
Whatever this planet was, it was NOT Earth (as if they needed a
clue, duh). Chris nervously looked around, keeping an eye out
for any orange and white starships with red crosses on them or
cute yellow space shuttles. To his relief, none seemed to be in
any danger of showing up.
"Hey, look!" Joe pointed up. Chris looked, and swore. It
was a space station encircling the planet, just as in EDEN. But
wait...it wasn't like Project EDEN's station. Where EDEN's had
been a neat, smooth curve encircling the globe, this one was more
rough, a mass of girders stretching out across the sky. Chris
sighed in relief. Something DIFFERENT.
"I think it's going to be a while until we get there," Joe
said. "Chris, do you still have that deck of cards with you?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah." Chris always carried at least one deck of
cards with him. Nothing like a game of Klondike solitaire to
beat boredom. He actually collected decks of cards when he
could...they were all different, and he liked the feel of them.
So the four of them played Pitch (Chris and Joe against
Aaron and Alex; Chris and Joe won) for a while. Then Chris
noticed that they weren't all that far away now and put the cards
up.
They approached closer and closer, and Chris got a crick in
his neck from looking up at the thing as it drew nearer. At last
they passed among several girders, then more and more flashed by.
And then, finally, the elevator docked.
"Okay," Chris said. "Great. We're here. Okay, I guess
we're not living Project EDEN after all. We didn't run into--"
And then the elevator door slid open, and there were two
figures in the doorway, wearing really black CVR-3 female armor
with red hearts on the shoulders and carrying electromag pistols.
The helmets were off, and their faces were plainly visible as
they stepped out of the shadows of the corridor and into the
light. One had short red hair, one had long black. They wore
triangular earrings. Behind them were about six other people
carring pistols or rifles.
Chris swallowed hard and finished his statement in a small
voice. "Kei and Yuri?"
CHAPTER 3
"I'm on a spaceship full of college students."
--Martin Rose
Kei spoke. "Don't move. Drop your weapons." Her gun
muzzle swept back and forth, indicating that she meant business.
Chris laid the meat cleaver on the floor and stepped back
from it. "Sure, sure. You won't get any trouble from us." Joe
did likewise.
Aaron and Alex gently put their knives and machete on the
floor, Alex with a sullen, "We'd better get these back."
As a couple of the other troopers collected the knives and
staff, Kei asked, "Who are you? Where did you come from?"
"I'm Chris Meadows, these are my brothers Aaron and Alex,
and this is my friend Joe Moore," Chris said, pointing, careful
not to make any sudden moves since the muzzle of the gun was
still pointing right at him. "And believe it or not, we came
from McDonald's."
"What?!"
"It's true!" Joe reaffirmed. "We were in a McDonald's, when
suddenly everything went blue, and the whole McDonald's was
transported down there. We walked to the elevator, and here we
are."
Kei and Yuri traded glances, then looked back. "He IS
wearing a McDonald's uniform," Yuri pointed out.
"It could be a trick by GENOM," Kei insisted. "They could
be Bumas."
"GENOM? Bumas?" Chris asked, not liking it all that much
when people talked about him as if he wasn't there. He HAD heard
something about a GENOM corporation back on Earth, but had
dismissed it largely as a practical joke by anime fans.
"We are NOT Bumas," Joe said. "If you have medical personnel
around here, we will gladly submit to a full examination. Surely
with all this advanced tech, you have scanners that can
conclusively tell human from Buma?"
"And I saw some, um, fighters flying around near where our
McDonald's arrived," Chris added. "Surely that ought to be proof
enough for you?"
"That's a good idea," Yuri said. "Come with us, please. If
you are who you say you are, Lord Fahrvergnugen will want to talk
with you. In fact, he will probably want to talk to you anyway."
Kei watched the foursome nervously as they walked, sizing
them up in her mind. They didn't LOOK dangerous--but then, it
was always the harmless-looking ones, wasn't it?
The one who called himself Chris Meadows looked about 20, was
6'2" tall and had short dark hair, hazel eyes behind
UV-sensitive, plastic-framed prescription eyeglasses, and major
five o'clock shadow (had this guy not heard of a razor or
something?). He was wearing a Palladium Books 10th-year
anniversary T-shirt with the Kevin Long illustration on the
front, and also blue jeans, and there was a 35mm camera around
his neck. Nothing fancy, just the kind of thing you could get
for $40 at Wal-Mart.
Aaron and Alex, apparently his younger brothers, had
blond hair and blue eyes, and were an inch or so taller than he
was. They were half-identical twins, which meant they would
probably be difficult to tell apart if you didn't know them.
Alex currently had a scraggly mustache and beard, though. They
wore blue jeans and T-shirts too.
Joe Moore was around the same height, with brown hair, and
he also wore glasses. He currently had on the uniform that
McDonald's makes its cash-register clerks wear, cap and all.
Kei shook her head. She sure got the odd ones, didn't she?
They were taken to an impressive sickbay, where a woman
named Jenna gave them all a thorough examination and pronounced
them all completely human. "Thanks, Doctor," Chris said. "All
my life, I've wondered what Aaron and Alex were..." Whereupon
Aaron and Alex promptly hit him.
Next, they were brought to a large conference room, and
seated around a long table. Kei and Yuri excused themselves and
left, leaving two other armored guards outside the door. "They
still don't trust us yet," Chris remarked.
Aaron opened his mouth to make some sort of wisecrack, but
he paused, comment forgotten, mouth still open, as the man swept
into the room. Three other mouths joined Aaron's in this state
of openness.
He looked eight feet tall if he was an inch, and he had the
build to match. He had flowing red hair, mustache, and beard,
and wore gleaming black armor with a black cape attached, and a
huge sword in a crossdraw position on his right side. Hey, he
must be left-handed just like I am, Chris thought.
He strode up to the table and took his seat at its head. He
spoke. "I am Baron Lord Wolfgang Amadeus Fahrvergnugen," he said
in a deep, booming voice that went with his huge stature. "I am
told that you have...just arrived?"
Since the others were still in a state of awe, Chris decided
he'd better answer. "It is an, er, honor to meet you, Baron
Fahrvergnugen," he said. "Yes, that's right, sir, we just got
here...wherever here is. We were on Earth, and--"
"Yes, I was briefed as you underwent your examinations. So,
now that you are here, what do you wish to do?"
"We, um, have a few questions, Your Lordship," Joe Moore
spoke up.
Lord Fahrvergnugen laughed. "Indeed I would think so! Ask
your questions, and I will answer them if I am able."
The four of them looked at each other, not knowing where to
start. Finally, Chris spoke up. "Sir...where is this? And how
did we get here?"
"Ah, no one has told you?" At their nods, Lord
Fahrvergnugen stood, strode to the end of the conference room,
where he did something that made metal panels slide away to
reveal outer space, and a network of girders and things.
"Then welcome! Welcome to Utopia Planitia Shipyards!"
Joe blinked. "Isn't that where the ENTERPRISE--?"
Chris cut him off. "You build starships here?"
Fahrvergnugen nodded, moving back to the table. "The best.
This is where the SDF-17 WAYWARD SON was fabricated." At the
blank looks on their faces, he added, "Ah, I forgot that you
would not have heard of it."
"Do you have any idea how we got here?" Chris asked.
Lord Fahrvergnugen shook his head. "I am afraid not.
However, our sensors did detect some sort of unusual subspace
energy pulse at what was probably your time of arrival. We will
determine the cause sooner or later, never fear."
Alex wondered, "Is there any way we can get back home? We
were supposed to be back by five. And how far away FROM home are
we?"
Fahrvergnugen shook his head and looked down. "As for how
far, I am afraid that the answer is light years. Weeks of travel
at warp speeds. In fact, if you were transmitted here by that
subspace pulse as we suspect, you may have been gone from Earth
for six weeks already."
"Oh, great," Chris muttered. "Mom and Dad are going to kill
me."
"They may think you are already dead," Lord Fahrvergnugen
said. It was a sobering thought.
"Um, uh, sir?" Aaron asked. "Why are Kei and Yuri, um,
alive? I thought they were cartoon characters."
The Baron smiled. "Ah, the question I was waiting for.
Yes, I shall explain how they came to be, and about the birth of
the Wedge Defense Force itself. After that, you shall have the
opportunity to join. I hope you shall--bright young people such
as yourselves are always welcome in the WDF."
They sat back in their chairs, relaxed, and listened to Lord
Fahrvergnugen's tale of the foundations and formation of the WDF,
and its battles to date. After the tale was done, Lord
Fahrvergnugen asked one last time, "Now, are there any more
questions?"
There was a minute of confused silence in which the four new
arrivals met each others' gazes nervously. At last, seeing that
no one else was going to speak, Chris held up his 35mm camera.
"Is there anywhere I can get this film developed?"
<<<Kansas, "The Wall">>>
Dawn the next day found Chris sitting in an observation deck
he'd somehow found, staring out and watching the sun (Cygnus
Beta) rise over the edge of the planet. In other circumstances,
Chris would have found this to be a very beautiful scene. Right
now, though, he was somewhat depressed.
From what he'd been told last night, there was not much
chance of him seeing Earth again. At least, not in the
conceivable future. This should have depressed him, but it
didn't, which was why he was depressed. (Funny, huh?)
Didn't he love his parents? Didn't he want to see them
again? Didn't he want to finish college, to see all his friends?
Well, yes, some...but he also wanted to get his hands on the
mecha, live the adventure. Was that more important? Chris
thought about this for a long time. More important? No. More
accessible? Yes. Going home just wasn't likely to happen, no
matter how homesick he got about it, so there was just no use in
pining for it.
Chris had wanted to go into the armed forces back on Earth,
but he had known that he couldn't. He was an utter and absolute
wimp, no WAY could he stand the physical training. And the Air
Force wouldn't let him fly with his vision problems. But here,
Omega-2 reorganized your body and mind, made it possible for you
to get stronger faster. Here were VERITECHS, something anyone
would give his right arm to fly (though how one would fly a
Veritech without a right arm is anybody's guess). Here was the
kind of adventure he'd written stories in college hoping to find.
He was going to do it.
"I'll do it!" he said aloud, smacking his right palm with
his left fist. "I'll join up right away."
"Glad to hear it."
Chris jumped. The voice came from behind him, from the big
guy dressed mostly in black, with the SR-71 Blackbird shirt on.
"Uh, hello," Chris said, holding out his hand.
The man took it. "I'm MegaZone," he said. "I haven't seen
you around."
"Oh, I'm new here. My name's Chris Meadows. Lord
Fahrvergnugen told me all about you."
"Ah, then he told me about you, too," Zoner said. "So you
plan to join up, then?"
Chris nodded. "I like Robotech, I like anime, I like mecha
in general, yeah. I think I'd like to learn how to put 'em
together. I've never been very mechanically-inclined, actually,
but I figure it's about time I learned. And with Omega-2, I'll
have all the time in the world to pick up the skills, right?"
Zoner grinned. "Yeah. So, let's talk about your
qualifications..."
Chris met Joe, Aaron, and Alex for lunch, resplendant in the
new Cadet's uniform he'd been issued. He noticed that they were
wearing similar uniforms.
"So, you guys signed up too, eh?"
Joe nodded. "Beats hanging around doing nothing."
"And we'll get to fly Veritechs!" Aaron added.
Alex nodded. "I'm going to become a Valk pilot. And who
knows, there may even be a place for me in the Hammers."
Chris chuckled, holding up the last page of the WDF Handbook
he'd just printed out. "Well, good luck. Fifty kilometers in
twenty hours, geez, whoa."
Alex shrugged. "Okay, so I'll have to build up my
endurance. Big deal. I have my whole life ahead of me." He
grinned.
"You only get five tries..."
"Then I'll just have to do my best every time, won't I?"
"I don't know just what I'll do yet," Aaron said. "There
are a lot of choices open to me."
"Hey, Chris, what do YOU plan to do?" Joe asked.
"I'm going into mecha design and construction," Chris said.
"Oh, I'll qualify to pilot everything first, but then I plan to
find out what makes them tick, and make a few myself. Maybe the
VR-hundreds Dave Deitrich and I designed."
"Cool," Joe said. "I'm going to become a doctor--the WDF
can always use medics. And I want a Cyclone, too. And maybe
I'll go into psychic research after I get my doctorate."
"Yeah, that sounds about like you, Joe."
Joe threw his fork at Chris.
CHAPTER 4
"Gonna take it right into the Danger Zone..."
--Kenny Loggins, "Danger Zone"
Chris got through "spasic training" all right, picked up some
martial arts and weapons skills, and then went on to officer
candidacy school (because of his high scores on the exams, he
qualified instantly) and mecha qualification. He saw Aaron,
Alex, and Joe frequently during basic training, less so during
mecha qualification, and not much at all after that.
Chris qualified in every Veritech and non-transformable
aerospace fighter in current service with the WDF. He was
nothing special, nowhere near being the next Gryphon or MegaZone,
but his abilities were "adequate" (in the words of one of his
instructors). Although he was sometimes berated for wasting
ammunition.
Even though he was now a graduate of military training,
Chris was still the same person--just a little more refined. He
was still a frenetic reader, often walking down the halls with a
book or handcomp in his hands, not watching where he was going.
He was something of an introvert, but he did try to get out and
meet new people (whose names he usually did not remember at all).
Everyone was assigned to different ships. Chris was
fortunate enough to be assigned to the Salusian AVC-07 TIGER'S
CLAW, a new spacecraft carrier just off the assembly lines and
ready for experimental testing. The first of a new class, the
ship was crewed by a joint human-Salusian crew as part of a
WDF-Royal Salusian Navy exchange program.
There were a few obvious differences from the WING COMMANDER
game, of course. The most obvious being that this ship was not a
Bengal class vessel but a "Tiger's Claw"-class, instead. It
still greatly resembled the Bengal-class TIGER'S CLAW, with the
forward landing bay, the two outrigger gun emplacements, the
whole deal. But it was actually slightly smaller than the given
stats for the original CLAW, and half of the crew had fur and/or
extra ears.
The name had originally been something Salusian and
unpronounceable which translated (roughly) to "Mighty Galactic
Vessel Commissioned and Empowered to Carry Numerous Space Attack
Fighters, Destined to Remove the Claw of the Kilrathi Tiger, to
Destroy It and Prevent It From Bringing Harm To Salusia or its
Allies Ever Again." (Actually, "Tiger" isn't the literal
translation; it's really a feline Salusian beast somewhat similar
to a tiger.) Understandably, the human crew immediately
shortened the name to the TIGER'S CLAW, and Queen Asrial found
this human simplification of the name so novel that she decreed
it to be the new official name of the ship, and of the class
itself.
Chris had hoped for Veritech duty, but for the shakedown
cruise, they put Chris in the Hornet light fighters, flying wing
with Spirit, and he later moved up to the Scimitar, with Iceman.
After Chris made First Lieutenant on board the CLAW, though,
he was transferred to planetside duty on a small, remote planet
called Trinalt, to his perpetual annoyance (he wasn't annoyed
that the planet was called Trinalt; he was annoyed at being
stationed there). The Trinalt planetary government had requested
WDF assistance, so they stationed a few "advisors" on the planet.
He'd just gotten used to flying space missions, and now they were
sticking him in a do-nothing squadron on some out-of-the-way
dirtball?
And when Chris saw the fighters he would be flying, he
nearly lost his temper. Z-95 Headhunters, where in the hell did
they dig up THOSE antiques?! The WDF didn't even USE them! And
to make matters worse, half of them didn't even have functional
combat computers.
The Incom/Subpro Z-95 Headhunter starfighter rather
resembled a Terran F-14, except that it was a one-man bird and
its armament consisted of two linked triple blasters in the
wings, and concussion missiles. It also mounted light deflector
shields and engines capable of driving it into space. And it was
at least a hundred years out of date.
To add insult to injury, they put him in command of a
squadron of them, with green pilots who probably hadn't flown
anything more complicated than an airspeeder in their entire
lives.
It was here that, out of necessity, Chris learned his first
few lessons in rewiring fightercraft flight computers. And in
the realities of command. The first six months were given Chris
on a platter--all he had to do was make his fighters work, fly
patrols, and get his squadron into shape. That was the EASY
part (although he didn't think so at the time).
Six months into the planetside duty, Chris was leading his
eight-man squadron on a training flight. They were patrolling
over the ocean, a high-atmosphere flight at 140,000 feet.
Then Chris's radar display began lighting up. "What in the
heck...?"
"Planetfall to Mako, Planetfall to Mako." Mako was the
handle Chris was currently using. It had been the name of a
character he'd written about in alt.pub.havens-rest back on
Earth, and also the handle he'd played WING COMMANDER under.
Planetfall was Chris's XO, a native 2nd Lieutenant, the leader of
the other four-man flight in his squadron. "I'm reading some
blips, reentry, 30 nautical miles, 167 degrees from present
heading. Transat control says no reentries are planned for this
sector at this time."
"Planetfall, I'm reading the same blips, confirm speed and
number."
"Reading barely subsonic, approximately four.
Wait...they've disappeared." They vanished from Chris's screen
at the same time.
"All right, let's check them out. Attention Zebra Flight.
Come around to 167 degrees relative. Activate shields, weapons
off safe. This is not a drill. Arm all weapons." He was being
a little paranoid, Chris thought, but what the hell? If it was a
problem, great. If it was just a false alarm, so much the
better, his men would still be better for the experience.
Chris looked on in satisfaction as, almost as one, the seven
other shield, gun, and missile indicator lights on his squadron
command board lit up, almost as one. The FIRST time he'd tried
that drill, lights came on haphazardly, some went off, others
came on, and finally one of the fighters' flight computers
apparently couldn't take the strain and jettisoned the pilot in
mid-flight. Fortunately, they HAD improved since then...
The two sections formed up in standard cruise formation, two
diamonds, side by side, the left diamond (Chris's) slightly
forward. Chris engaged the private commline to one of his men.
"Eyeball, engage your sensors. See if you can get a look ahead
at what it is, if anything. Probably just some civilian
cycroders out for a joyhop."
Eyeball was their recon specialist, largely due to
necessity. He'd been the last to sign up, and by some error, his
assigned fighter happened to be a Z-95RC recon fighter. Its
armament was limited to blasters, but it mounted an advanced
sensor pod that enabled it to look far ahead of the average
units. Chris estimated that the RC had the most advanced
avionics "to be found on this whole damn planet. No offense."
"None taken." It was probably meant for some forward ob
squadron, but a bookkeeping error had assigned it to his squad.
(Personally, he thought the Z-95 ITSELF was a bookkeeping error,
but...)
"I'm locking in on something," Eyeball reported a few
seconds later. "Seems to have some kind of stealth system."
"Can you get an ID?"
"Negative...the image is too fuzzy." In the cockpit of
another of the fighters, a helmeted pilot grimaced, and whammed
his control panel with the heel of his hand. The screen lost
vertical hold for a second or two, then cleared. "Okay, I think
I've got something. They're some kind of fighter...three two-man
elements."
"Roger. Give me a course-correct..."
"Seven degrees starboard, twelve degrees down."
"Roger. Attention Zebra flight. Correct course seven
degrees starboard, twelve degrees down. Shields double front, I
repeat, shields DOUBLE FRONT. Arm targeting and stand by to
fire."
The targeting system began to lock in on something, far
ahead. And then warning tones sounded. "Oh, shit! Break and
evade, break and evade!" A flurry of laser and neutron fire
ripped through the squadron.
"My shield's overloaded, I can't--AAAAAAAAAUGH!!!!!!!"
X-man's Headhunter went up in a ball of fire.
"Shit on a stick!" Chris muttered. "Jalthi! Six of 'em!"
In a split-second, Chris reviewed what he knew about the
Jalthi. Armed with three neutron cannons, three lasers, two
friend-or-foes, one heat-seeker. Pretty slow, sluggish
maneuverability, fairly light armor, especially on the backside.
The problem was getting to it.
"Zebra-flight, break into two-man elements. Zenith, stick
with me and Eyeball." Zenith had been X-man's wingman. "Now
listen to me." He dodged more laser blasts. "These guys are
built for space combat, but we're the better aerofighters. So we
lead 'em down and into the goo, and lock horns with them there."
As he spoke, Chris was leading by example, ducking, dodging,
and diving, switching his shields to double-rear as he plunged.
100,000 feet...80,000 feet...60,000...The others followed suit,
and evaded, Chris was pleased to see, with every trick Chris had
tried to teach them. They'd gotten better, and he'd learned a
few tricks from them himself.
"Now listen to me, and listen good. Our shields are
inferior, our weapons not quite as good as what they've got. The
trick is to take them from behind. Don't even try to go
head-to-head with them, it's suicide. Just don't let 'em hit
you, and try every trick in the book to get behind them. Now
let's turn and burn, and remember to stick with your wingman!"
Above them, the Jalthi were splitting up and diving in.
Four were coming at them; the others were breaking. "Smart,
cats, verrry smart. Keep us occupied while those two get to the
objective." He tagged Eyeball's line. "Can you get a message
through to transat command? On any channel?" The Z-95RC had the
best commo gear in the squadron, too, and it was customary to use
Eyeball's ship for a relay.
"Negative, boss, they're throwing out some heavy jamming."
"Damn. Eyeball, Zenith, I want you to go take those guys.
Whatever their mission is, it can't be good."
"But sir, that'll leave you without a wingman!" Zenith
protested.
"I can handle myself, Corporal. The mission is more
important. Go get them."
"Roger and out."
Privately, Chris was a little doubtful about his ability to
take the Kilrathi. The odds were a little more even now, but
they were still outnumbered, four fighters to five. Oh, well.
Chris punched in the HUD, set the swingwings for maximum
mobility, and went to work.
<<<Kansas, "Fight Fire With Fire">>>
Fortunately, the lessons Chris had learned on board the
TIGER'S CLAW came back easily, and he soon found himself staring
into the two huge jet exhausts, sort of like twin bullseyes, on
one of the Jalthi. Now he hammered away at it with blasterfire.
His scanners showed its shields going down. It kicked in the
afterburners and began to pull away, but Chris did likewise,
keeping it in his sights and holding the trigger down. The
shields collapsed. Chris closed to 1500 meters (damn this
metric-system aircraft...) as his hud indicated a missile lock.
Of course, concussion missiles were little more than glorified
dumbfires--odds were you wouldn't hit your target if it was
smaller than a freighter. But Chris was feeling lucky today,
what the hell. He punched the fire key and let 'er go. The
missile streaked forward, forward...right up the Jalthi's left
exhaust. KERBLAMMO!
Chris dodged the explosion, and then dodged something else.
One of the Jalthi's friend-or-foe missiles, looked like. And it
was on his tail. Damn. Bloody friggin damn. That thing
wouldn't let up until it had him. And the Illudium warhead would
seriously damage his fighter, even with double shields on.
Chris reached over to the comm board. "Lessee if I can't
confuse this thing. I know what the recognition signal is, I
just need the frequency...There, that's the standard one they
taught in flight training..." All this with his left hand as his
right moved the stick around, ducking and dodging.
"Shit! Still not taking the bait...wait a minute, I just
remembered an alternate frequency...There." The missile suddenly
veered off, and Chris got it with his blasters before it could
hit any of his men.
By now, two more Jalthi had gone down, but so had one
Headhunter. They were down to four now--Chris, Planetfall, and
two others. Planetfall was currently without a wingmate, so
Chris slid into the slot.
Chris got on the commline and instructed the other element
to go on the offensive--take out the single fighter while he and
Planetfall aced the remaining two-fighter element. They could do
it, he knew...he and Planetfall were the better pilots.
"Planetfall, you draw them out...I'll shut 'em down."
"That's a roger, Mako. I'm on him."
As Planetfall played "bait," Chris got in behind the first
one and sent concussion missiles up his tailpipe. Most missed,
but one got through and knocked his shields down, setting Chris
up to plink away at it with the triple blasters until it atomized
into O-rings. But then he caught a neutron blast from its
wingmate.
"I will feast upon your offspring!" came a feline growl over
his headset.
Fortunately, it was only a glancing blow, but it overloaded
his shields in a shower of sparks. Smoke filled the cockpit.
Chris turned on the ventilation and it was gone seconds later.
But during those seconds, Chris didn't know where his enemy was,
and he could only jink blindly, hoping he wasn't a promising
target.
"I've got no shields, Planetfall," Chris announced. "Let's
wrap this up ASAP."
"Crossfire?"
"Yep."
"I like the way you think, boss. Let's do it."
Chris threw his fighter into a barrel roll as more laser
blasts shot from behind him. He feinted left, then did a quick
Immelman to shake the enemy off his tail. Then, coming around,
his and Planetfall's blasters caught the Kilrathi in a crossfire.
Caught between two opposing forces, the Kilrathi's shields
vanished, its components went to red on the schematic, it started
smoking, and finally blew.
"All right! All units, form up, right echelon formation.
Kick in full burners and keep 'em there, lock wings to rearward
position for supersonic travel. Come around onto heading 87
degrees relative."
The four remaining fighters blasted southeast, on
afterburner trails half as long as they were. "Sir, are you sure
this is wise?" Planetfall asked. "I mean, the engines--"
"To hell with the engines," Chris said. "We have to catch
up to Eyeball and Zenith--"
Then, speak of the devil, the communicator beeped and it was
them. "Eyeball to Mako. Zenith and I downed the two Jalthi.
Zenith's fighter was destroyed, but he ejected in time."
"Great!" Chris replied. "But I thought the Kilrathi empire
was broken. What the hell are they doing on this planet?"
"I couldn't say about the Kilrathi as a whole, sir, but as
for those Jalthi, they were on a course that would have led them
right into the capital city."
"If they'd taken out the capital, this whole planet would be
ripe for invasion," Chris thought aloud.
"Yessir," Eyeball replied. "It is a lonely little planet,
true, way out on the edge of nowhere...but it is a convenient
jumping-off point for an invasion into civilized space."
"You've got that right." Chris slowed his flight down to
normal speeds, and punched up an air-to-ground commline. A few
seconds later, he told the squadron, "Zebra flight, we will
divert to Frenharkis Air-Space Defense Base, eighty miles to the
southwest. We'll talk further after landing. Mako out."
CHAPTER 5
"We can be heroes...just for one day."
--David Bowie, "'Heroes'"
The first thing Chris did after getting back was punch for a
subspace commline straight to the WAYWARD SON, under full
emergency authorization. "Trinalt Military to WAYWARD SON, do
you read?"
The screen blanked, fuzzed, cleared, and then the ONE MOMENT
PLEASE... logo flashed. After a few seconds, it cleared, and a
man in WDF uniform behind a console appeared. "Like, WAYWARD SON
here, Trinalt Military. Like, what is the nature of this call?"
Chris saluted. "Lieutenant Chris Meadows, Wedge Defense
Force, on assignment to Trinalt. Is Captain MegaZone there?"
The view shifted to encompass the whole WAYWARD SON bridge;
MegaZone was there in the command chair. "This is MegaZone,"
'Zoner said. "Go ahead, Chris."
"Sir, my Headhunter squadron just engaged and took down six
Jalthi in the upper atmosphere."
"Pirates using salvaged mecha?" Zoner postulated.
"Nosir. At least one of them was piloted by a genuine
Kilrathi, voiceprint analysis from my flight recorder reveals
that."
"But that planet's way out in the middle of nowhere? Why
would they want it? And don't call me sir."
Gryphon, at his console at MegaZone's right hand, suggested,
"Maybe because, since it's in the MIDDLE, they could use it as a
staging base to attack the planets on this side."
MegaZone nodded. "I see your point. All right. We'll
execute a fold jump and be there within the hour to make sure the
Kilrathi don't get the Trinalt system. q, tell ReRob to get
ready to fold."
"Like, you got it." Macquivr pressed some keys on his
console.
Zoner directed his attention back to Chris. "Now, you say
you took down six Jalthi with Z-95s?"
"Yessi--I mean, yes, Zoner."
MegaZone gave a low whistle. "Wow, what were your losses?"
"Out of eight, three down, one man dead."
"Too bad about the dead one. Okay, we'll be there soon.
Oh, and one more thing. Once we do get there, I want to talk to
you, you AND your men, that is. I think we might just find a
place for a squadron that could do what yours just did."
When word got out about his squadron's "heroic defense of
Trinalt from Kilrathi hordes," Chris Meadows and his men were the
heroes of the day. There were long speeches, tickertape parades,
all that sort of thing. There was also a promotion for all his
men, and for him, too (from the WDF). He was now a Captain, rank
O-3.
Chris grimaced; he hated being paraded through the streets
like some kind of idol, he ESPECIALLY hated being bored through
five continuous hours of long-winded speakers. Even the WDF
Silver Star award for bravery in the face of of overwhelming
opposition was just some new tinsel for his uniform, as far as he
was concerned. But Chris's little talk with Zoner had made it
all worthwhile...
Chris had called the squadron together a couple of hours
after returning from the communication center, and they'd met in
a borrowed ready room for what Chris described as a very
important meeting.
On the right (Chris's left) was Michael "Eyeball" Rossen, a
tall young man with hair halfway between brown and blonde, and
brown eyes. Next to him was Carl "Planetfall" Ellin,
dark-skinned, dark-haired, with eyes of such a deep brown that
they almost looked completely black. And that wide grin of his
that he'd been wearing ever since getting onto this ship.
Next to them was Janet "Scalpel" Walker, the small,
dark-haired girl who could barely see out the cockpit of her
fighter over the dashboard but was a pretty good pilot all the
same. Accurate with weapons fire, too, hence her callsign.
Sitting close to Scalpel, with his right arm around her, was her
husband and wingmate, Jay "Retractor" Walker. (Yes, his callsign
was a little joke between himself and his wife.) He was about
six feet tall, the same as Chris, with blonde hair and hazel
eyes. Retractor was the other pilot who'd been shot down by
Jalthi, but he'd managed to eject before his fighter exploded.
He was taking a lot of ribbing for it, especially from Scalpel,
but he was pretty good-natured about it. He'd survived being
shot down; he could afford to be.
The other two pilots were Larry "Zenith" Forbes, 6'6", with
red hair, olive eyes, pale complexion, and a love for flying
somewhat similar to Rick Hunter's; and Amy "Expo" Nihuan, 5'3",
with brown hair, piercing grey eyes, and a very good figure.
Chris had often wondered why these pilots from an alien
planet would look quite human, and have very human names. Maybe
Lord Fahrvergnugen knew something about it. He would have to ask
him sometime.
They were all sitting around, waiting for Chris to explain.
"What's going on, Chris?" asked Zenith.
Chris's wristcomm beeped softly, and he glanced at the
message being printed on the display in LCD letters. "You should
find out any minute now..." Chris remarked, noting the standard
Wedge designation for Megazone's Daytona from Hell and the code
for landing accomplished. "I'll be right back, guys," Chris
said. "Don't go anywhere."
Chris ran out onto the airbase landing strip, finding a
group of puzzled noncoms clustered around the strange vehicle
that had just landed. "It's all right, guys, I'll take it from
here."
"Sir." They saluted and left, as Zoner climbed out of the
Daytona from Hell in his CVR armor.
"Hello, Mako," Zoner said. "You did a great job up there."
"The credit really belongs to my men, not me," Chris said.
"They're the ones who deserve all the glory." He thought of
X-man, blown away before he even had a chance to see what hit
him, and his vision clouded for a moment.
Zoner could tell from the look in Chris's eyes what he was
thinking of. "I know, it's really rough to lose a man," he said,
his own eyes misting over. He was undoubtedly recalling their
first battle, over Neo-Worcester, in which Fritz had sacrificed
himself to save the WAYWARD SON from the devastating power of
Sol. "But you're good, there's no doubting that."
Chris shook his head. "I'm just an 'adequate' pilot,
remember? I'll never be as good as you--or as good as Gryphon,
for that matter, sir."
"Chris, two things," MegaZone said. "First of all, don't try
to flatter me, it won't work." He grinned. "And the second is
don't call me sir, or Captain, or salute, or anything like that.
I run a pretty informal ship--the only time I'm superior to you
is when I give an order."
"All right, uh, Zoner." Chris relaxed in his seat.
Zoner nodded. "All right. Here's the deal. I want you, all
eigh--er, seven of you. We'll give you a month to retrain, and
you can select an eighth man from the reserves on board, or from
the planet if you like. We'll be stationing some Salusian Rapier
squadrons planetside, on permanent loan, so you don't need to
worry about the planet suffering from your loss. What do you
say?"
"I'd have to say...you got it!" They shook hands, and Chris
was grinning like a maniac. Actually Maniac did grin quite a bit
like that, Chris recalled from the TIGER'S CLAW.
Together, Chris and MegaZone returned to the borrowed ready
room, to break the news to his men. Their first reaction was
disbelief. Then came the cheering. "I can't believe it--we're
actually getting to join the legendary WDF!" Zenith said. "Us,
who fly Z-95s! Now we're going to get to fly some REAL
machines!"
So, Chris and his men moved aboard the WAYWARD SON. The
Trinalt government was quite upset--here they just HAD these
heroes, and now the WDF was taking them away. But the assignment
of the Rapier squadrons seemed to calm them down a little.
The other members of Zebra Flight were still quite excited;
after all, they'd heard stories about the Wedge Defense Force,
legends, but now they were JOINING it. It was enough to shock
even the most gregarious member of Zebra Flight into silence,
which is why there was hardly any conversation on the shuttle
that was taking them up.
"Hey, look guys!" Chris pointed out the window. "There she
is."
Eyeball eyeballed it. "Wow. What a beauty..."
Chris nodded. "That's the WAYWARD SON."
"No, I was talking about that fighter flying escort." He
pointed at the plane, a sleek, trim Super Valkyrie Veritech
Fighter cruising alongside the shuttle. "Looks kinda like one of
our Headhunters on steroids."
Chris grinned. "Enjoy the view," he said. "We're going to
be flying fighters much like that one."
"Wow!" And then Eyeball was nearly trampled by the rest of
the squadron trying to see just what kind of fighter Chris was
talking about.
There was a lot more silence after that, until they reached
the ship.
CHAPTER 6
"[insert quote here]"
--[insert source here]
While his pilots were busy gawking at the fighters, Chris
did a bit of gawking of his own at the SDF-17 WAYWARD SON. Wow.
Wow, wow, and WOW! This was the first time he'd ever actually
seen the ship. Oh, yeah, sure, he'd seen holos, read about it,
even seen some parts of its plans and schematics in the design
and engineering textbooks he read whenever he got the chance.
But none of it compared to seeing the actual ship. It was...it
was a piece of history, and a work of art.
Once the shuttle landed, minor functionaries showed up and
told Chris and the rest of Zebra Flight where their quarters
were. Chris didn't care about that; there was one place that he
just had to see...
A few moments later, he emerged onto the turbolift to find a
small lounge-like room with some booths with tables, and a couple
of computer terminals and some snack machines. Someone more
cynical might have dismissed this room as just another lounge,
but Chris knew about its history. This was the Wedge, originally
a building on a small college campus in Worcester, Massachusetts
and now all that remained of that campus and indeed that town.
It was, Chris knew, capable of functioning as a starship in its
own right, and once, he had heard, it had actually transformed
into a robot, if that could be believed...
"Hello, Captain." Chris turned. It was a woman, blonde,
about 5' 9". She was wearing a WDF pilot's uniform--leather
jacket with RDF insignia, unit flashes, etc.; loose pants with a
transparent pocket on the thigh for a map (the map pocket was
actually a holdover for WDF antiquarians, since Veritech flight
computers were normally used for map display); beat-up running
shoes.
"Uh, hi, uh, Lieutenant." She wore the insignia of the WDF
space-defense Veritech wing. "You're a pilot?"
She nodded. "Valks. Ya gotta love 'em. Oh, my name's
Katie Tanner, callsign Temper."
"Chris Meadows, Mako. Nice to meet you, Temper." Chris
gestured toward a booth. "Shall we sit down?"
"Don't see why not. Hey, wait a minute." She ran over to
the snack machines. "What's your pleasure?"
Chris reached for his wallet. "Hey, hold on, I'm buying--"
"Oh no, mister. I was here first." She pulled out her own
WDF ID card and slotted it into one of the machines (Lord F's men
had modified them to interconnect to the onboard computer that
kept track of WedgeRat financial accounts). "Now what'll it be?"
Chris acquiesced, resolving that he would spring for the
food next time. "Get me a cup of cappuccino, and, oh...one of those
red and yellow rectangular cherry pastries, whatever they're
called."
"Got your pastry...but we don't have a cappuccino machine."
Chris sighed. "Oh, great...Okay, I'll settle for a Dew, or
an A&W Root Beer if they're out of that."
"Coming up." Katie made her own purchases, then got a tray
from somewhere and carried the assorted comestibles over to their
table.
"So," she said, sitting down. "What do you think?"
Chris popped the tab on the Dew. "I think it's going to be
great serving on board this ship." He took a long pull at the
drink. "Aaah. You know, this is the first time I've had
Earth-type snacks since I left basic training? For the last six
months, I've been stationed on Trinalt, and they don't even make
good COFFEE there." He made a face.
"Oooh, poor man," Katie said sarcastically, sipping at a
Crystal Pepsi. "All the trials and tribulations you've had to go
through..."
"Hey, don't laugh--it was hard, especially when the
highest-tech fighter on the entire planet is the Z-95
Headhunter."
"You're kidding." Katie accused. "I read about those in a
historical aviation magazine. They fly like--"
"Oh, they fly okay," Chris said. "But then, so do some
Terran World War II fighters. Now, I think the P-38J Lightning
is the coolest fighter they ever made--but I don't think I'd want
to take one up against, say, a Jalthi..."
"Is that what you did?" Katie asked. "Took out Jalthi with
Z-95s?"
"It was either that or the planetary government went pif. We
lost one of our men, though, and three of our fighters."
"That must have been hard on you--losing a man." The sarcasm
was absent this time.
Chris nodded, taking another pull at his Dew and opening the
pastry. "It's never happened to me before--I mean, that was my
first command. I didn't even lose a wingman on the TIGER'S CLAW.
Not even Maniac, and that's saying a LOT! But this..."
"How do you feel about it?"
Chris shook his head. "Awful. I keep thinking that it was
my fault, that I screwed up and X-man got it because of me.
Dammit, I should never have engaged. We didn't even know what
those blips were, but we went to check them out. I told them,
shields double front, and they did, but the Jalthi blast went
right through X-man before any of us knew what we were facing.
He never knew what hit him. Dammit, it IS my fault. We should
just have reported it in and went on our way."
"Yeah, and then blame yourself for the rest of your life
after those Jalthi took out the government," another voice said.
Chris looked up, and gasped. He'd never met the man personally,
but he'd seen enough pictures to recognize the short, heavyset
man with the ponytail and glasses.
"Gryphon!"
Gryphon nodded, and stopped to stand at the side of the
table for a moment. "Don't start blaming yourself over what
happened, it just leads to angst. Zoner does that from time to
time, annoys the hell out of the rest of us. We all get enough
of that anyway from things we CAN change without having to worry
about what we can't."
"I'll keep that in mind." Chris barely stopped himself from
adding "sir" to the end of that statement. He also barely kept
his self-control. What was it about superior officers that made
him lose his cool like that? Perhaps it was the feeling that he
wasn't supposed to be here, that he really didn't belong...
Shut up, he told his inner voice of doubt. You're here now,
and Zoner himself has told you that he wants you on his ship.
Besides, this is just the kind of thing that Gryphon just told
you NOT to worry about.
Chris looked up from his internal dialogue to notice Gryphon
was now exchanging pleasantries with Lieutenant Tanner. "So,
have you found another Valkyrie squadron that will take you?"
Katie shook her head. "The reorganization's left me without
a home. I'd rather not fall back on reserve status, but then
again, I'd much rather fly a Valk than have to sign with a Legios
squadron."
Gryphon nodded. "I understand the feeling. Say, wait a
minute..." He turned to Chris. "Mako, is it? You're the leader
of that new squadron...Aren't you heading up a Valkyrie flight?
And aren't you short one pilot?"
"Hey, yeah, that's right," Chris said. And then, "Ah, I see
where you're coming from. Yeah...I think that I could probably
use another Lieutenant in my squad. Especially one with,
what...four years of Valkyrie experience?"
Katie nodded. "I can handle a Valkyrie of any type at any
time. I can fly anything from a Legios to a Logan, actually, but
the Valks are my one true passion."
"All right, it's settled," Gryphon said, pulling out a memo
pad and making a note. "I'll get the paperwork done for the
transfer, and set it up."
"I feel I should warn you, I feel it is my responsibility to
try out all new recruits to the squadron personally, both in
simulator combat and as a wingmate," Chris said. "However, since
I only flew Valks during orientation, and that was a year and a
half ago, I think we'll let the simulations slide for now."
"Hmm, might just be that I'LL have to retrain YOU..." Katie
countered."
They both grinned, as did Gryphon. "I can see I'm
interrupting, so I'll just move on. I've got to meet Kei in,
what, five minutes now?" He checked his watch. "Yep."
"Hey, when you see her, tell her one of the guys from the
McDonald's says hi, okay?"
Gryphon looked a little puzzled, but said, "All right, I'll
tell her." He walked out of the room, still looking a little
curious.
"What was that about?" Katie wondered.
"Oh. Well, you know how all the animals went onto Noah's
Ark in pairs, except the worms, which went in apples?"
Katie groaned. "Augh, not puns! I get enough of that from
Hammer!"
"Well, it seems that most of the WedgeRats went to Utopia
Planitia in the Wedge. But I went in a McDonald's."
"?!?" said Katie. "Is this some kind of obscure joke?"
"No, seriously...listen..." Chris went into the tale of his
arrival at UP, somewhat embellished, with appropriate hand
gestures to match.
"...And then the elevator doors opened and there they were,
pointing their guns right at us..." Chris made a partial fist
with thumb and forefinger extended in the traditional "pistol"
gesture and pointed at Katie for emphasis. "I think they thought
we were Bumas or something." He went on and described their
eventual meeting with Wolfgang, and how he'd joined up with the
WDF, and then his previous postings.
Katie Tanner listened patiently, and after Chris was
finished, said, "That is the craziest story I've ever heard. The
McDonald's part, I mean. Either that story's true, or you're the
best damn liar I've ever seen."
"Well, I'm a really lousy liar," Chris said.
"Oh, REALLY?"
They sat there talking for several hours. Chris didn't know
why, but it seemed like something had clicked between himself and
Katie. It suprised Chris, and disturbed him a little--he wasn't
accustomed to making friends that fast. But on the other hand,
he certainly didn't mind having friends--he'd had so many
acquaintances and so few true friends back on Earth that the
opportunity to have friends here was something he wanted to take
advantage of to the fullest.
Valkyrie retraining was fun. None of Chris's pilots except
Katie knew what the Valk could do, especially where modular
transformation was concerned. It took a lot of training to get
them accustomed to operating Battroids, but once they did, the
payoff was worth it. Of course, now Chris had to drill them in
8-man infantry tactics, but that was just another part of the
fun. Katie Tanner was a big help in this area.
Cyclone training was also a blast. Chris dearly loved the
Cyc-bike, and insisted that all members of his squadron be fully
proficient in its use. Though they were at first a little
doubtful about getting in armor and climbing on motorcycles (most
of them had never SEEN, much less ridden motorcycles before),
once the mecha transformed around them, they were hooked.
During this time, Chris got the opportunity to work with
ReRob on designing a sensor upgrade for the Valkyrie, designed to
utilize several new detection components R&D had come up with.
These same new compoments were later to be used in the prototypes
of the TR-580 handheld scanning devices, which would eventually
become standard-issue for WDF Science teams.
It was Chris's first experiment in mecha engineering. He
learned a lot through the attempt, and through the help ReRob
provided in designing and constructing the system. After it went
through testing, Zebra Flight became the first squadron to use
this system, which was soon adopted for all Veritechs of the WDF.
One day, while Chris was in the middle of training his men,
a familiar figure walked into the launch bay where they were
practicing Battroid maneuvering. "Hey, guys, take five," Chris
said, zooming the camera in on this new arrival. "There's
someone here I need to talk to."
Chris collapsed his Veritech from Battroid to Gerwalk, and
hopped out of the cockpit, the nose now angled downward nearly to
the ground. "Hey, Joe!"
Joe Moore grinned. "Chris, hi! I'd heard you were on board,
and I came down to see how you were doing."
"Hey, let me look at you!" Chris grinned. "Hey, you're in a
Wedge Medical uniform..."
Joe nodded. "Yep. Medical Cadet, actually. I'm still
studying. It'll just be a couple more years until I get my
doctorate."
"But we've only been here for about a year, and you hadn't
even finished high school back on Earth," Chris pointed out.
"I know, isn't it great? That Omega-2 stuff reorganized my
mind, made me smarter or something. I can learn better. Anyway,
I've been studying at the medical institutions of several
different planets. I'm currently taking a Wedge course in
cellular microbiology, and then it's on to Utopia Planitia for
some more study there."
Chris shook his head. "Good to see that you're keeping
busy. Me, I'm being KEPT busy. But hey--I want to show you
something. Come with me."
Joe shrugged. "Why not? I've got the time." He followed
Chris to a turbolift, and Chris rode it down to one of the other
launchbays.
As the car came to a stop and the doors opened, Chris told
Joe, "I'm going to show you something that I thought I would
never, ever see."
"What's that?" And then Joe stepped out, and came face to
face with ReRob's Kilroy the Thundergod in all its, ahem, glory.
It left him speechless for a few moments.
"Something even uglier than your '68 Dodge Dart. Barely,"
Chris said. "I never thought I'd see the day..."
Joe swung around. "Chris, I'm going to KILL you!"
CHAPTER 7
"Life is full of a number of things."
--Blurb from MACROSCOPE by Piers Anthony
For the next two years, Zebra Flight flew standard Valkyrie
fighters, and did so with a pretty good record. Chris became
known around the ship by his callsign, Mako. At first he
protested--if he were going to have a nickname, Mako was not the
one he would probably have chosen. It was just something he'd
come up with on the spur of the moment when making up nicknames
for a story he was writing, then used later on in WING COMMANDER.
But then Chris figured that Mako was probably as good a name as
any other he could have come up with anyway and just said the
hell with it.
While Chris was still a mediocre pilot by himself, he seemed
to fly better with a team for some reason. They covered his
inadequacies and enabled him to fly better. Which isn't to say
that he hung back and let the others do all the work. It was
just that he synchronized his maneuvers with the rest of his men
so that they all benefited from it.
During the time Chris was stationed on the WAYWARD SON, he
began to pick up the mecha maintenance techniques that he'd been
hoping to learn. He certainly didn't plan on staying in the
WDF's flight wing forever.
Katie found Chris sitting in the observation deck staring out
the window. He'd been there more and more over the last couple
of days, as the WAYWARD SON made its way toward Utopia Planitia
for a minor refit to its sensors.
Katie sat down beside Chris. "What's wrong?" she asked.
"Huh? Oh, nothing, nothing..."
"Don't give me that line of bull, I've served with you AND
been your friend for two years, I can tell when something's
wrong."
"Do you have a family back on Earth?" Chris asked, continuing
to stare out the window.
Katie shook her head. "Orphan, didn't I tell you? Guess
not." Seeing this was apparently what bothered Chris, she asked,
"You have a family?"
"Parents," Chris said. "My brothers are WDF." He sighed.
"I haven't seen home in three years. They probably think I'm
dead." Chris reached into a cooler under the seat, brought out a
Budweiser. "Want one?"
"This is no time to get morbid," Katie replied. "Or drunk
either, for that matter. We've just been assigned a new mission;
here's the briefing data." She held up a floptical disk.
Chris dropped the beer back in the cooler. "You're right.
Beer doesn't really taste all that great anyway. I suppose my
parents can wait until later..."
The job was simple--some Kilrathi privateers were holed up
in the star system, but the WDF didn't know exactly where.
They'd been raiding the entire sector, and were a definite
annoyance to the Wedge Defense Force. Zebra Flight's job was to
scout the asteroid belt and pinpoint the Kilrathi base, and then
ReRob and Co.'s Kilroy would come through and take it out.
For this mission, Zebra Flight was temporarily assigned
Super Valkyries. Chris had been hoping for the Hyper model, but
there weren't very many of those around, so he made do with what
he could get.
For this assignment, Katie Tanner was flying as Chris's
wingmate. They launched together from the PROMETHEUS and headed
into the belt. Just for the hell of it, they practiced precision
flying, maintaining inverted positions relative to each other,
only ten feet apart. "This kind of precision flying is possible
ONLY through the new Robotechnology," he quoted over the radio,
and they both broke up laughing. But it wasn't until Chris
pulled out his Polaroid that they REALLY cracked up (laughing,
that is, not running into some solid object).
As they approached the asteroid belt, the radar grid began
to light up. "Looks like we've got some company...probably
Salthi from the size of 'em."
"Shall we take 'em?" Temper asked on his starboard
comscreen.
"I dunno...you think?" Chris thumbed his weapons systems to
"ONLINE," but then thought better of it. "I always ignored these
guys in the game when my mission was more important. Just kick
in the burners, and you'll leave 'em in your dust."
"Yeah, I suppose..."
"Come on, let's get to Nav Point 2 and do some recon." He
made a course correction to keep them out of range of the
Kilrathis' radar, and punched the dorsally-mounted boosters.
"Hey, you, wait for me!"
It was just their luck that THEY happened upon the base
instead of the other members of their squadron. They were flying
through the asteroid field on afterburners, following Chris's
motto: "250 kps is for wimps." But Chris nearly did crash into
an asteroid when he couldn't stop laughing after Katie said in a
particularly Lisa Hayes-esque voice, "Look around you, hotshot,
you're the only one out there flying dangerously!"
And then, suddenly, there it was. A great big round
Kilrathi satellite base, like the one at the end of the WING
COMMANDER game. "Whoa, there it is...Temper, see if you can get
a commline through to ReRob. We have the coordinates."
"I'm getting heavy jamming, and can't get a laser line
through because of all the rocks in the way," Katie responded.
"And--uh-oh. Reading six bogeys, big ones."
Chris's target computer brought up a lock. "LOCKED
TARGET--GRATHA," it read.
Katie got the same lock. "No problem, these guys are
wusses." She engaged burner, and zoomed in.
"Katie, no!" But it was too late. Temper tended to be
somewhat impulsive at times, and now she released clouds of
medium-range missiles from her booster launch pods, to strike at
oncoming Gratha. Then she rolled hard right and came around in a
split-S to rake GU-11 fire across another one.
But two more of them came in from behind her and started
pummelling her with laser cannons and mass drivers. "Son of a
BITCH!" she yelled, as some of her fighter systems began to
overheat.
Chris was already on his way. "Dammit, Temper, how am I
supposed to keep a full squadron if you keep rushing into things
trying to get killed!" He got positive locks on three Gratha and
dispatched some medrange rockets to make life hard for them.
With a Super Valk, hosement was easy--in fact, it came standard
in the armament.
As they scorched the last of the Gratha, the radar sounded
an alert--more of them on their way, launching from the station.
"Temper, we aren't staying around for this. We've got the
coordinates, let's get out of here."
"Roger, Mako." She sounded properly chastened--or maybe she
was just satisfied with the death-and-destruction she and he had
wrought upon those six Gratha. Regardless of the reason, they
both punched full burners and rocketed away.
Once they broke clear of the asteroid belt, Chris was able
to open a laser commo link to Kilroy, which was orbiting nearby.
"Mako to ReRob, Mako to ReRob. We have the coordinates, and are
relaying them now."
"This is ReRob. Roger on those coordinates, we're on our
way. See you back at the ship."
"I read you, ReRob. Later. Mako out." He watched the
Kludge from Hell pass by overhead, and then returned with Katie
Tanner to the ship.
It wasn't long after this that Chris was promoted to Major,
and his squad was upgraded to Super Veritechs. They flew a
couple of missions against renegade Kilrathi fighters, but
nothing of any urgency.
Chris was really proud of his Super Valkyrie, especially
when he learned that it was permanently assigned to him. That
meant he could customize it! At last, a fighter of his own...
Now, as any good fighter jock knows, a plane has to have a
name, whether it's as simple as "Eight-ball One" or more
abstract, like the ENOLA GAY. Chris's plane was known as Zebra
One, but that wasn't enough. As far as Chris was concerned,
there could be only one name worthy of his fighter. He'd used
this name for a starship in alt.pub.havens-rest, but there was
nothing wrong with using it again here. Named after his favorite
song by TMBG, Chris's fighter became the CONSTELLATION.
One of the most important (to Chris's mind) customizations
he made to the ship was the addition of a floptical disk reader
to the underside of the instrument panel, and quadrophonic plasma
speakers at strategic points around the cockpit. Flopticals were
great. They had an immense storage capacity, so much that one
could keep his entire music collection on one disk and still have
room left over for a library of thousands of hardcover and
paperback books. And Chris kept his library with him wherever he
went. After all, if he was going to listen to a little music to
help him relax before combat, or catch up on his reading during a
particularly boring 5-hour patrol, who was to know? Or care?
Of course, he needed PCHammer's help to make the system
work; the floptical-to-Veritech connection required an interface
program for reading the data from the disk. As it happened,
PCHammer was more than happy to whip one up for Chris.
And so it went...
CHAPTER 8
"Homeward bound...I wish I was homeward bound."
--Simon and Garfunkel, "Homeward Bound"
<<<Kansas, "Dust in the Wind">>>
It was a month or so later. The SON was preparing to fold
to Utopia Planitia, and Chris was once again in the observation
lounge staring at the stars. The whole universe was there,
spread out before him, and it made him feel small.
Would he ever go back home? Would his parents still be
there when he did? What would they say? What did they think?
To them, he was probably dead. Perhaps he should stay that
way...not go home, not face his parents, let himself remain dead.
They had probably gotten used to the loss after all, and to see
him again would only be a further shock. Besides, he had no way
to GET there.
Katie walked in. "Thinking about your family again?"
"Yeah...Dammit, I know they're out there, I just want to see
them again."
Katie shook her head. "No, you don't. Oh, yeah, you think
it would be great to see them again, to go home again. But your
home is HERE now, and you've just got to accept it."
Chris shook his head. "No...no, it's not that _I_ want to
see THEM again--it's that THEY probably want to see ME. They're
probably worried sick about my brothers and me, and have been
worrying ever since that McDonald's vanished with us in it." He
shook his head. "There were these three girls who vanished from
the town where I live a few years ago. By the time I vanished,
it was two years later, and they still hadn't turned up. Their
mother was going on TV, begging, pleading with anyone who knew
anything about the disappearance to come forward. So far as I
know, no one did. I really hate to think of my mother like that.
Dammit, if I could just get a message through, tell her I'm all
right..."
Katie looked at her feet. "I know how you feel..."
"How CAN you? You don't even HAVE parents?" Chris snapped,
and was instantly sorry for it.
"No, but I have friends." Katie got up and left the lounge.
"Hey, Katie--wait..." Chris ran after her, caught her
shoulder. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean...I didn't think about--"
She turned, and half-smiled. "Apology accepted. I'm the
one who should apologize--I thought that--"
Chris nodded. "I know. Look, just come on back to the
lounge and let's sit through the fold together."
Katie grinned. "All right. It does help to have a hand to
hold onto through the distortions."
The SDF-17 was now safely in her drydock, and the
technicians swarmed like maddened ants over her hull and through
her corridors, patching the multitude of micrometeoroid dents,
replacing circuitry, and generally being everywhere. Most of
those on board the SON moved into the temporary quarters made
available on the Utopia Planitia station, to be out of the way of
the workers. Chris was no exception. For the next two months,
he was on shore leave, and he intended to make the most of it.
There had been quite a few changes to Utopia Planitia in the
days since Chris had last been here. One of these, Chris
discovered, was that the same McDonald's in which Joe, Chris,
Aaron, and Alex had arrived on the surface of Planitia had been
transplanted up to the shipyards, much the same way castles and
bridges have been known to be transplanted from Europe to America
(though the McDonald's was transplanted without disassembling it
first) and now resided in one of the "malls" (the park-like areas
with grass, blue sky, and buildings that were designed to
simulate being on a planet).
Chris ate at the McDonald's once in a while out of nostalgia
(if they ever started giving free refills on their drinks he'd
eat there more often). He saw other WedgeRats eating there, too,
but not many. Mostly it was technicians. He guessed it was
because they hadn't ever been to Earth to eat at Burger King and
know what fast-food hamburgers were SUPPOSED to be like.
But all the same, sometimes he and Katie stopped in at the
same time as PCHammer and Noriko, and all four of them got
together and talked. Chris and PCHammer seemed to have similar
tastes--for example, they both seemed to enjoy the same kind of
music, and they both possessed slightly odd senses of humor.
Also, they were both conservatives (though Chris's father had
been much more conservative than Chris was). Another thing they
had in common was that they had both arrived at Planitia in
unorthodox fashions. PCHammer (aka Martin Rose) had accidentally
stowed away aboard the SDF-17 as it was repairing damage after
devastating Neo-Worcester.
It was from PCHammer that Chris learned about a way to
resolve the pesky problem that had been plaguing him for the last
few months.
They had just finished their Big Macs and were trying to
resolve the problem of who would pay. Every time they met, each
of them tried to pick up the other's tab. Chris idly wondered
how they would settle the question this time. Last time they'd
had a riddling contest which had started as a Tolkienian
challenge but ended in an outrageous pun-off which soon had
everyone in the restaurant collectively laughing and/or groaning.
Chris was considering suggesting that the fairest way would be
for each person to pay what the other bought. Maybe that would
be a suitable compromise.
But Martin surprised him by saying instead, "Did you hear
about pfloyd?"
"No, what about him?" pfloyd was one of the original
WedgeRats, and the commander of the ultra-elite Hammers (which
Alex had been hoping to join after having enlisted).
"He's going back to Earth."
"What?!"
"It's true, I heard it from MegaZone himself. He's going to
be leaving in a few days, and they're throwing a party for him."
"Wow..." To go back to Earth...that was what he'd wanted to
do for SO LONG... "How's he managing that?"
"He got Lord F to have his men fix up a starship for him.
The CRAZY DIAMOND, I think it's called. He can't take anyone
with him, but he has offered to pick up a few things for people.
I asked him to get me the the lastest CDs by TMBG and Weird Al."
"I want copies," Chris said.
"Okay."
"Hey...do you think he could do something for me?" Chris
asked.
"As long as it's not something too big," PCHammer replied.
"Wow..." Chris was lost in thought for the rest of the
evening--he even let PCHammer pay the tab without noticing it.
A few days later, Chris walked toward the shipyards, pausing
to tab one of the computer comm panels and ask, "Computer, locate
pfloyd."
"Major Adam Johnson is on board the WDF CRAZY DIAMOND," the
computer replied calmly.
"Can you patch me through?"
"Working..."
BEEP. A male voice with a British accent spoke. However,
only Holly's balding, middle aged face appeard, his lips
unmoving, as if it was only a photo still.
"Emergency. Emergency. There's an emergency going on.
Still going on. No, just kidding. This is Holly speaking. I'm
afraid no one on board is available to take your call at the
moment. Please leave your name and a message after the beep."
Chris opened his mouth, but no words came out. He closed it
again. "Uh, hi, Holly. Um, could you tell him that I called?
I'm Mako, that is--Major Meadows. Uh--" He stopped, before he
got any more tongue-tied. "Oh, um--I just want pfloyd to do
something for me when he goes to Earth. Nothing fancy or
anything, I just want him to drop off a pack--" Chris broke off,
for someone had just appeared in the hall next to him.
The man who just appeared was dressed rather casually... a
white kekogi jacket and dark navy blue hakama covered his body.
The shoulders of the kekogi were tied back. Held in the obi
around his waist was a standard Hammers issue monokatana; in his
left hand, held as if it was a live blade in a scabbard, was a
rock maple bokken. The man moved with grace and fluidity,
qualities gained from a long life of training. He wore no rank
insignia, no standard uniform. His hair was tied back into a
tail, and his trademark silver feather earring was not present.
Chris recognized him, of course--he'd even met him a few
times, though he was just an acquaintance. It was pfloyd.
"Hel--hello. Wow."
"Hi, Major. You said you wanted me to drop off something?"
"Huh? Oh, yes. Here it is." Chris pulled out a small
mailer, with stamps Lord Fahrvergnugen's techs had fabricated for
him and an address on it. "If it's not too much trouble, when
you get to Earth I'd appreciate it if you'd drop this in a
convenient mailbox for me."
pfloyd took it, glanced at the address, looked back up at
Chris. "To your parents?"
"Yes." Chris sighed. "I really miss them."
pfloyd stared off into infinity for a moment, then said, "I
have someone on Earth I really miss, too. That's part of why I'm
going back, in fact." He was silent for another moment and said,
"How would you like a tour of my ship?"
"Wow, would I?"
"Just a moment." He took out a small headset, unfolded it
and put it on. "Holly, bodyslide two to the bridge, please."
Chris had just enough time to understand what this meant, and
then he was there.
After Chris recovered from the transport, he looked around
and gasped in awe. pfloyd grinned at Chris's discomfiture, and
then started showing him all around the ship. Holodecks, launch
bays, etc.
"What were you doing when you showed up, pf?" Chris asked.
"Just...training. Been slacking off in swordwork and
Aikido...thought it could come in handy when I went back."
Chris nodded. He had heard that pfloyd had been immersing
much of his free time into developing his skills in three martial
arts: Aikido, Hwarang Do and a peculiar Japanese sword style,
Musashi Ryu.
After the tour was complete, Chris said, "This is amazing.
You sure have a nice setup here. It's a little unfair, you
know."
"What is?"
"You're a major and you have this handy little ship, plus
command of an elite fifty-man unit. I'm a major, but what do I
have? Just eight Super Valkyrie fighters."
"Well, Super Valkyries are nothing to sneer at," pfloyd
said. "But if you're dissatisfied with just the eight, why don't
you request that more pilots be assigned to you?"
Chris thought about that, then shook his head. "No...it was
a rhetorical remark, really. I don't actually WANT command of a
huge squadron like that. In a few years, I'm planning to go into
design and engineering, and I don't need the inertia of a great
big squad holding me back."
"Ah, I understand. Well, thanks for stopping by. Any
particular spot on UP you want to be returned to?"
"How about the Planitia McDonald's?"
"Okay. Holly?"
"Right. One to slide..." Chris was suddenly Not There, and
was just as suddenly in the McDonald's, where he stepped up to
the counter and ordered breakfast from a surprised cashier.
At the sendoff party, Chris was one of only a few people who
didn't get blotto (another was, of course, Vaughn). Chris really
didn't feel like drinking all that much--beer didn't taste all
that good to him at the time. He drank perhaps half a beer
before saying the hell with it and grabbing a creme soda instead.
He and Vaughn worked as a team, conveniently arranging to be
behind and to either side of each person who was about to pass
out, catching said person, and getting said person safely to his
or her quarters. Chris didn't know how Vaughn could tell exactly
which people were in danger of hitting the floor in time to be
beside them exactly the second they collapsed, but he did seem to
have a knack for it. They made a great team, but there was only
one problem--Chris's drinks kept disappearing.
"Vaughn?"
"Yes?"
"Would you please pay attention to my creme sodas? It's
annoying when they vanish like that."
"Oh, sorry. I'll try to keep it in mind." And so went the
night.
CHAPTER 9
"Hello Mudder...Hello Fodder...Greetings from Camp...Hiawatha"
--(who sang this song and what was it called?)
The next day, pfloyd's ship left the launch bay, not to
return for two years according to its pilot/commander. Chris
watched it go, not a little envious. To spend two years back on
Earth...with friends and family. Two years.
As pfloyd left, Chris thought that maybe he should have
asked pfloyd to hand-deliver it (after all, it wouldn't be too
much trouble to get to southwest Missouri with that bodyslider
thing). And that way his parents could have written an answer.
But Chris knew that pfloyd had better things to do than be his
messenger boy. Besides, Chris could imagine that his parents
wouldn't be too coherent after they watched the tape.
Chris was glad he'd thought of a videotape. His parents
would be relieved to know that their progeny were still alive
(and would stay alive for a long, long time), even if they might
never see each other again, and it would do them good to see him
alive, moving, and talking. It hadn't been too hard for the
technicians to patch together a VHS deck to transfer the
laserdisc recording to, and then get it all set up for mailing.
When his parents played the tape, they would see him, in his
quarters, wearing his WDF flight suit and Major's badge proudly.
He would smile at the camera, and then begin to speak.
"Hi, Mom, hi Dad. Surprise." He paused, clasped his hands
together. "I guess that's the understatement of the century.
Trust me, this letter is not a prank and it is not a hoax. It's
really me. I'm not under any duress whatsoever, and I'm happy
here. I heard that a friend of mine would be heading back to
Earth, and so I'm making this video letter." Pause. "I'm really
sorry I couldn't get in touch with you sooner. If I had my way,
I would have gotten in touch the instant I arrived here, to let
you know I was all right. Aaron and Alex, too. But I just
couldn't.
"Let me start at the beginning. We were in McDonald's, with
Joe, and then..." He ran through the story, and described what
he'd done with himself. "So I've been a fighter pilot the last
year or so. I finally got transferred to the WAYWARD SON, and
was able to get back here. Aaron, Alex, and Joe are all right,
too, by the way...they aren't here right now, but I'm appending
the video letters I last received from them, later on.
"You'll be relieved to know that I don't plan on being a
fighter pilot the rest of my life. Come to think of it, I'm
going to have a rather long life, so I'm probably going to be
quite a few things during it. I plan to become a design engineer
in the next few decades, and who knows what, after that?"
Chris talked for a while, then went on about shipboard life
and the WDF as a whole. He appended training films, combat
footage, segments from recruitment tapes, and anything he could
think of to fill six hours. He did a capsule history of the WDF,
including the TRUE story about what had happened in Worcester and
Neo-Worcester (with appropriate camera footage). He appended
letters from Aaron, Alex, and Joe, telling what they'd been up
to, and finally ended the letter standing in full dress uniform,
the various medals and decorations he'd won standing out proudly
on his chest.
"Goodbye, Mom, Dad. I'm really sorry that I can't come
back...that I'll probably never see you again..." His voice
broke, and a tear came unbidden to the corner of one of his eyes.
"I'll try to get another letter to you, somehow, but I may not be
able to...I love you, and I know you love me too." He turned
away, then turned back and snapped a stiff salute. "Goodbye."
"Hey, you look like you could use some cheering up."
PCHammer stopped next to the bench Chris was sitting on in the
WAYWARD SON observation deck, and sat down next to him, unbidden.
Chris didn't say anything, and they both sat there in silence for
a while. Then Martin said, "Come on, it can't be that bad. You
look like your dog just died."
"Oh, just thinking of home, and the people I left behind..."
PCHammer nodded. "I come here to do that sometimes,
myself." He looked out into space. "You know, this is a very
special spot for me."
"Yeah?"
"It's where I was when the SDF-17 took off from
Neo-Worcester. One of the Air Force's missiles hit right on the
glass. Scared the living daylights out of me. I had to go
around for days without any living daylights in me, you know how
hard that is on a person?"
Chris had to chuckle in spite of himself. "That must have
been startling."
"Oh, yeah."
Chris sighed.
"Well, look. I know what'll cheer you up," PCHammer
suggested. "The Clay Pigeons are performing tonight, and you're
invited. Here, here's a backstage pass."
Chris took it. "I don't know...I think I should be a little
suspicious of a ticket that's written in crayon..."
"Hey, it'll do you good," PCHammer said. "Look, here's one
for Temper, too."
"Okay, I'll come."
"Good. We'll be expecting you--and I'll send Noriko after
you if you don't come." He grinned, and Chris winced. He'd once
made the mistake, in combat practice, of thinking her a pushover
because of her small size. It was an error which she corrected
with consummate ease, and now ribbed Chris about quite
frequently.
The "backstage ticket," it turned out, was actually an
"onstage ticket." Chris and Katie were included in the show. At
first Chris groaned, but it was hard to remain in a funk after
Katie hit him in the face with a lemon merengue pie.
"Those crazy guys..." Chris said after showering. "If
that's what all their shows are like, remind me to wear old
clothes next time."
Katie snickered. "That was fun, though. We have to go to
more of them."
CHAPTER 10
"So long, saddle pals, it's been so good to see you...Farewell,
saddle pals, we really hate to leave you..."
--Riders in the Sky, from the song they always
sing at the end of their National Public Radio
radio show
The WAYWARD SON was soon finished with her refitting, and
moved away from Utopia Planitia under full steam. Chris Meadows
and Katie Tanner went back to work with Zebra Flight.
Ten happy years passed, with Chris leading Zebra Flight to
victory time and time again. Though far from elite, they did
maintain a pretty good record of wins vs. defeats, and also a
good ammo-expended-to-kill ratio.
Zebra Flight had no NCOs by now--they were an all-brass
squadron, and many of its pilots were qualified to lead their own
flight groups. Even though Chris didn't want to expand, he
didn't want to hold back the careers of those under his command.
And he figured it was about time he moved on, anyway.
Engineering school at Utopia Planitia was calling to him.
So, citing his own wish to retire from cockpit duty for a
while and go on to Bigger and Better Things, Chris officially
dissolved Zebra Flight, and recommended to MegaZone that each of
those pilots who had served under him be assigned to command of
his own squadron. He announced that he would be returning to
Planitia to study design and engineering there.
Chris offered now-Captain Katie Tanner the chance to form a
new Zebra Flight, using the name and unit insignia (on an
upside-down black triangle, in white, a Valkyrie cockpit, from
the right side, with an anthropomorphic zebra at the controls),
but she declined. So the honor passed to Planetfall, who
promised to do a good job of it, to "make Mako proud."
On the day Chris was to leave, Katie met him at the docking
bay. He was returning to Planitia in style--after the ten years
and change of sterling service he'd rendered to the SDF-17, Kei
and Yuri themselves were going to drop him off at UP. Well,
actually they'd been going that way anyway on the way to Meizuri,
but Chris preferred to flatter himself.
Katie handed him his duffle bag, and then, to his surprise,
hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. "What was that for?" he
asked.
"It's funny, the things a person does," Katie said. "You
want to do something, but you keep putting it off, and putting it
off, thinking that you'll get around to it later."
"Huh?" Chris was really lost now.
"Dammit, we've been friends for ten years," Katie said, the
temper which was the source of her callsign flaring up slightly.
"I wanted us to be more than that, but neither of us ever made
the moves. And now it's too late."
"It's never too late," Chris said to prevent an awkward
silence, hugging her back. "You'll just have to wait a little
bit longer, that's all."
"I can't wait forever," Katie said. "Dammit, why did I wait
so long to begin with?"
"Hey, Mako!" Kei shouted from the LOVELY ANGEL's boarding
ramp. "Hurry up, we're ready to go."
"Just a minute!" Chris replied. "I'll be right there!"
Katie continued holding onto him, not wanting to let him go.
"Hey, Katie," Chris said. "I really have to go." He gently
unclasped her arms from around him. "Look, it's not the end of
the world..."
To Chris's surprise and embarrassment, Katie started sobbing
softly. "I--I'll be waiting for you."
"Hey, could you please hurry?" Kei called. "We're holding
up the other launches!" Chris began to feel like he was living
in a Big Red chewing gum commercial.
"Okay, I'm coming!" Chris grabbed his duffel bag, said one
last goodbye to Katie, and ran for the launch ramp. Standing at
the top, he looked out, and saw Katie waving to him, until the
rising ramp blocked out the view. Then he found something to
hold onto in a hurry as the LOVELY ANGEL blasted away at maximum
impulse.
The trip to Planitia was uneventful, and boringly so. He
did take fifty credits off of Kei in pennyante poker (yes, he
still carried a deck of playing cards with him), but you can't
play poker all the time. He started to compose a letter to
Katie, but deleted the file after he'd put down only a few words.
Who'd have thought it, all this time she was in love with him and
he hadn't even noticed?
At last the ship dropped out of warp, and docked with Utopia
Planitia. Kei and Yuri dropped him off, they said their
goodbyes, and the LOVELY ANGEL raced on to Meizuri. The WWWA was
busy these days, even more so than the WDF.
Chris stood and watched them go, watched the bright flash of
their warpdrive engaging, and then stood there for a few minutes
after they were gone. It was only when he heard someone clearing
his throat behind him that Chris turned, to see Lord
Fahrvergnugen waiting for him.
"Oh, hello," Chris said.
"You have arrived," Lord Fahrvergnugen proclaimed. "Are you
looking forward to commencing your studies?"
Chris nodded. "Very much," he said. "I'd like to get right
to work as soon as possible."
"Very well," Lord Fahrvergnugen replied. "Come with me, I
will show you to your quarters."
Chris shrugged. "Sure thing." And Lord Fahrvergnugen swept
out of the room, with Chris following close behind.
Thus began four years of intensive study, experimental
design, and fellowship with other bright engineering students
from all across the quadrant. Chris studied mecha and starship
construction and engineering. Mecha layout, engine design and
maintenance, weapons adjustment, electronics, the works. He
learned fast, and hardly even noticed the passing time.
Chris wrote to Katie often, and she wrote back, and he got
some letters from some of the other former members of his
squadron about how things were going, too. Katie had actually
become a member of the prestigious Eight-Ball squadron! Eyeball
was now in charge of a Valkyrie recon squadron, and the new Zebra
Flight under Planetfall was also doing well. They'd gotten
upgraded Super Valk fighters, now, and were even occasionally
using Hyper Valkyries (well, they had used them ONCE, on a
special mission in conjunction with Eight-Ball where warpdrive
was necessary; Katie, in Eight-Ball, used them all the time).
Chris did a stint as one of those faceless technicians who
worked to retrofit and repair ships like the WAYWARD SON whenever
they werein dock. To his surprise and amusement, he worked on
the LOVELY ANGEL twice, and both times, Kei and Yuri didn't even
notice him until he called their attention to who he was.
The second time they docked, they brought a guest. It was
Katie Tanner, resplendant in her new rank of Major and her
Eight-Ball flight suit. She was on a 10-day pass from her
WAYWARD SON duty.
"Wow!" Chris said, when he saw her walking down the ramp.
"You look great! And you've been promoted!"
She kissed him on the cheek. "Yeah. You'd better get back
into the loop, or I'm going to outpace you."
"Look at me," Chris said. "I'm a Repair Technician, 2nd
Class."
"I thought you were a Major," Katie remarked. "Hey, this
means I DO outrank you..."
"Not really," Chris explained. "I'm still a Major in the
WDF, but I'm temporarily on 'reserve' status. Your WDF rank
doesn't count for much here--it's a different system."
"I guess I'd better let you get back to your work," Katie
said.
"I get off in two hours," Chris replied. "Meet me here, and
we'll go out."
"It's a deal," Katie said, grinning. "Where will we go?"
"It's a special place. See you later."
"Bye."
Chris went back to work, helping remove the starboard fusion
reactor from the ANGEL for replacement with a more powerful
version. One facet of the job that Chris thought was neat was
how you got to know familiar ships from the inside out, find out
how they worked, what made them tick. He certainly wasn't going
to take their inner workings for granted any longer, no indeed.
They went, of course, to the McDonald's. "I mighta known,"
Katie remarked, grinning. As they took a seat at the very same
table Chris, Aaron, and Alex had occupied when the transition had
occurred, a familiar figure walked up. "May I take your order?"
Chris looked up. It was Joe Moore!
"Joe, sit down, sit down! I see you've gone up in the
world!" He was wearing the insignia of a Captain, and
the Medical Corps badge.
"And I see you've gone down," Joe shot back. "Repair
Technician, 2nd Class? Geez..."
"Oh, it's only a temporary rank," Chris replied. "When I
graduate, I get my old job back--WDF Major."
"Major, coolie. Guess I should be calling you sir, then."
"You call me 'sir,' Joe, and I'll bean you," Chris said, and
they all had a good laugh.
"So, what have you been doing with your life?" Chris asked,
after he filled Joe in on the seven years that had gone by since
they'd last seen each other.
"Being a doctor, mostly," Joe said. "I've served all over
the place, even on the TIGER'S CLAW."
"Hey, my old haunt!" Chris said.
"Yeah, I know. They all liked you there, even Maniac.
Though he did complain that you didn't let him kill anything."
Chris snorted. "Hmp, didn't let anything kill HIM, he
means."
"May I take your order?" the waiter asked.
"You know, I used to work in this place," Joe Moore told
him. "When it was back on EARTH."
The waiter remained unimpressed, but he did take down their
orders, and brought everything back promptly. "You know, this
place has improved since we last ate here," Chris remarked.
"They give you free refills on drinks now."
At last it was nearing midnight, and it was time for Katie
to go. "I used up four days of my ten day pass just getting
here," she explained. "It'll take the other six to get back.
But it was worth it." She gave him one last kiss on the cheek
and waved goodbye, then turned. "Hey, why don't you come on
board the ANGEL--Kei says we could fly once around the solar
system, and she could drop you off before 0100."
Chris considered. It was tempting, especially considering
the person who was doing the asking. "All right...as long as you
have me back by one..."
Kei and Yuri looked at each other and giggled, then closed
the ramp behind them.
It soon became apparent that going back was not something
that the Lovely Angels had in mind. It became VERY apparent when
the ship jumped to warpdrive just a few thousand kilometers away
from UP. "Hey, what's going on?" Chris asked. "We have to go
back there! I have to finish my classes!"
"Oh? Take a look at this." Katie Tanner grinned, and held
up a rolled-up piece of parchment.
Chris took it. "'This diploma certifies that Chris Meadows
has graduated from the Utopia Planitia Shipyards Comprehensive
Technical Training Course,' signed Wolfgang Amadeus
Fahrvergnugen..." he read, then looked up. "How in space did you
wangle this?!"
"It was Lord Fahrvergnugen's idea," Katie said. "He thought
you'd like the surprise. Do you?"
"Like it? I LOVE it!" Chris rolled the diploma back up.
"So we're going back? To the WAYWARD SON?"
Katie nodded. "We'll be rendezvousing in just under four
days."
"Great! Let's go to the observation deck and watch the
stars zip by," Chris suggested.
"Sounds like an idea to me." So, they sat and talked in the
small observation lounge on board the LOVELY ANGEL for many
hours, just holding hands. With eternity ahead of them, after
all, they could afford to take it slowly.
THE END
(OF PART I)
Produced and Directed by Chris Meadows
Technical Advisors: Gryphon, MegaZone, PCHammer, pfloyd
Continuity Checking: MegaZone, Gryphon
Animation Studios: Tokyo Movie Shinsha
Toei
Spectrum
Special Effects: Academic Gloom and Mundanity
Editor: Qedit v2.15 (available at better shareware BBSes
everywhere
Special Thanks To:
The Bettman Archive The Smithsonian Institute
Casio Watches Utopia Planitia Film
Cybertron Film Commission Commission
Palladium Books Wedge Defense Force
Semware Historical Archive
---APPENDIX---
Okay. I guess you're confused. Well, I'll try to explain
all the obscure references in here that are mine originally.
However, I won't mention those that come from other Undocumented
Features stories. I would advise you read Undocumented Features
1, 2, and the first part of 3, as well as One Vision and Hammer
Time. They should explain a lot. (Heck, I'd recommend you read
ALL of UF, but the above are the only ones with a direct bearing
on this part of the story.)
So here, in order of their appearance in the story, are most
of the obscure references, anime and otherwise, that I've used.
SCORCHED EARTH 1.2: A really neat tank/artillery game, shareware.
You have to take into account wind direction and terrain, then
choose angle and power for firing your shot. Some of the
explosions are created with fractals, which are really neat.
SENTINELS, Jack McKinney: The Robotech novels based on the
Robotech sequel series that never got made.
Younger brothers with combat knives: They actually DO have the
knives I described. The survival equipment, too. And Aaron even
made a knife himself--has about a 12" blade; he calls it
"Junior".
Beanpole elevator: A proposed device to eliminate expensive space
launches--an elevator from the planet's surface up to orbit.
Read THE BARSOOM PROJECT, by Larry Niven and Steven Barnes.
Beanpole elevator with KONICA sign on it: From the opening gambit
of DIRTY PAIR: PROJECT EDEN (one of my favorite movies).
Orange and white ship; yellow shuttle: From the opening gambit of
PROJECT EDEN. They dock with the elevator, and then...Just see
it for yourself.
VR-hundred series Cyclones: Dave Deitrich and I are making a
Robotech Post-Invid RPG supplement. For said supplement, Dave
designed a new series of Cyclones, the VR-hundred series,
developed quite independantly of (and quite differently from) the
VR-hundreds mentioned in the WDF Technical Readout. For the
purposes of avoiding confusion, these will be referred to in my
stories as DVR-hundred series Cyclones.
The TIGER'S CLAW, Hornets, Scimitars, Spirit, Iceman: From the
computer game WING COMMANDER, by Origin Systems. Play it or die.
Incom/Subpro Z-95 Headhunters: From HAN SOLO AT STAR'S END by
Brian Daley, and subsequently the STAR WARS SOURCEBOOK from West
End Games. An old, outdated, but still damned good combat
fighter (rather like the old F-4 Phantom is today). In the right
hands, deadly.
Cycroder: The small spacecraft Kimball Kinnison flew at the
beginning of LENSMAN (English dub).
Jalthi, Kilrathi: From WING COMMANDER, see above.
Silver Star Award: From WING COMMANDER, see above.
All the pilots of Zebra Flight: Made up out of whole cloth. No
intentional in-jokes or references.
Maniac: From WING COMMANDER, see above.
Katie Tanner: From nowhere except my own subconscious mind. I
couldn't think of an anime female who hadn't been used already
and I wanted my character to fall in love with, so I just made
someone up. So sue me. :)
P-38J Lightning: The star of the arcade/Nintendo games 1942 and
1943, and the coolest WWII plane ever to see the air. Twin
turboprops, did 450 mph easy, over 600 in a dive.
Cyclone ejector system: Actually something I came up with for the
Robotech RPG supplement Dave Deitrich and I have been working on.
Joe Moore's 1968 Dodge Dart: The "Kilroy the Thundergod" of
automobiles. UUUUUgly. But a neat car anyway (I have to say
that; Joe's listening, you see).
Gratha: From WING COMMANDER, see above.
"Emergency. Emergency." etc.: One of my favorite lines from RED
DWARF. Watch it or die.
Ticket written in crayon: Actually a half-remembered joke
recycled from the old MUPPET SHOW. Some actress said something
about the contract being written in crayon when it arrived. It
fit.
THE SOUNDTRACK (in order of appearance in the story)
David Bowie, "Space Oddity" (Fame and Fashion)
Kansas, "Point of Know Return" (The Best of Kansas)
Bruce Hornsby and the Range, "Jacob's Ladder" (???)
Kansas, "The Wall" (The Best of Kansas)
Kansas, "Fight Fire With Fire" (The Best of Kansas)
Kansas, "Dust in the Wind" (The Best of Kansas)
Chris Meadows | "It wasn't your fault; it was the will of the
CHM173S@SMSVMA | Authors. Like private parts to them are we; they
CHM...@VMA.SMSU.EDU | play with us for their pleasure."
CMEA...@NYX.CS.DU.EDU | --high-jinx, Original AWESOME FORCE #102
CMEA...@NOX.CS.DU.EDU | by Bill Paul, The Man With Two First Names