Memories, ..more stories Options

[old Andy]

Here's some new stuff, I hope you guys like it




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My child arrived just the other day
He came to the world in the usual way
But there were planes to catch and bills to pay
He learned to walk while I was away
And he was talkin' 'fore I knew it, and as he grew
He'd say "I'm gonna be like you dad
You know I'm gonna be like you"

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man on the moon
When you comin' home dad?
I don't know when, but we'll get together then son
You know we'll have a good time then



“That's it?” The youth asked frantically, as he paced the interior of the small bedroom.

“That's what it says.” The other replied, indicating the 'End of File' cursor that blinked with an irrefutable logic at the bottom of the small screen. “See?”

“But that, that, that blows Brahmin!” As the first youth gazed in denial at the sceen. “I mean.. this really sucks, Aaron.” Looking over the object again. “Are you sure there aren't anymore files in here somewhere.” Turning the device over in his hands “A secret button or something somewhere?”

Aaron grabbed it back. “[censored]'s sake Tom, you'll break it further. I only just got the audio to playback.” As he checked for any harm done. “It was my dad's, remember?” He added, in a softer tone.

“Yeah, sorry 'bout that.” Tom apologized, “But I mean, we still don't know anything! We don't know what happened to your mom -except of course that she survived since we just saw her an hour ago, we don't know what happened to your dad later on, with your uncle Carl..” Tom took Aaron dramatically by the arms, “Dude, we don't know anything!” Aaron grabbed his friend back and together they yelled in well rehearsed form “Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh, we're guuurlz!!”

A radio on a bed stand stopped in the middle of the song and the dj broke through; “Zow-wee, my cool cats and all my home dawgs out there in radio land, this is your Blitzener, the bizzer, the man who can, knows it like a radar scan.. from waay up top in my caddy shack, sending out the vibe.. we are now passing what once was the fabu-phalliscious golden Gate bridge -which isn't golden, it's painted red, so none of you mother [censored]ers go jumping over board in the hope that it's real gold, it ain't!”

A large shuttered window opened out onto a narrow balcony past the bed. The balcony ran for ten meters or so along the outside of the tower, crude but effectively welded to the side. Aaron had the window open and was already half way out. “C'mon Tom, we're higher up than Blitzener,” indicating that the twin towers that rose out of the Flying Dutchman's cargo holds were taller than the Cryslus Memorial tower that we should be able to have a great view.” Tom looked out onto the balcony with a look of trepidation creeping over his face.

“I dunno Aaron.. you sure it's safe?”

Aaron jumped up and down a few times, they balcony swaying slightly downward. “Yes, it safe. It's always safe. It was safe the last time you were out here, and it's safe now, see?” Cautiously, his friend climbed halfway out, Aaron withholding the urge to grab Tom and scare him, once had been enough.

“You're not going to freak me out, are you?”

Aaron held his hands up in defense “I'm cool, I promise.” as his friend climbed out further onto the balcony. While Tom seated himself, Aaron dived back inside to retrieve their snacks -left over from his birthday three days earlier. “Well..?” Aaron asked once they were finally sitting, soda's and chips at the ready.

“It's an okay view.” Tom muttered.

“What??” Aaron cupped his ear like an elderly person, “Wazzat sonny. Ya gots to speak up into my hearin' thingy, cuz I'm deaf like..”

Tom was grinning at Aaron's antics; “IT”S BLOODY BEAUTIFUL UP HERE!!”

A window opened and a female face in her twenties stuck out, looking for the source of the noise. Her gaze quickly fell upon the two youths.

“Ah, there you are. Get in here and wash up -oh, hello Thomas, I didn't know you were still here.”

“Rather here than my place, ma'am.” Tom replied “I think my mum hates me.”

“Well you're welcome to stay as long as you wish, I'll get word down to the Hunger Donner and let them know.” She wagged a finger at him quasi seriously. “But if I get any Wanderers or Warriors knocking at the door, I'm sending them straight to you.” Her head disappearing before it popped back out. “And wash up too. Honestly, where you kids find dirt and grim in those quantities on a steel ship is beyond me.”

“It's a talent.” Aaron retorted.


My son turned ten just the other day
He said, "Thanks for the ball, Dad, come on let's play
Can you teach me to throw", I said "Not today
I got a lot to do", he said, "That's ok"
And he walked away but his smile never dimmed
And said, "I'm gonna be like him, yeah
You know I'm gonna be like him"

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man on the moon
When you comin' home son?
I don't know when, but we'll get together then son
You know we'll have a good time then


“Mom?”

“Yes dear, what is it.” Knowing that tone of voice she set set her fork down and looked over the finishing bits of birthday cake that had served as desert, again. “you can have the last piece of cake if our guest doesn't want it.” Tom looked at Aaron, head bobbing.

“I'm having it.” He stated. Aaron waved it off, shaking his head.

“No, that's not it. And sure, he can have it.” Winking at his mom, “You know how they only eat seaweed and crab cakes once a week.” referring to the mutated horseshoe crabs called mirelurks that were cultivated on board in captivity as a renewable food source.

His mother brushed away her son's joke, but Tom chimed in through mouthfuls of birthday cake. “It's the truth Mrs. A., all my mum makes is seaweed stew for my dad, who loves it for some odd reason.” He shuddered, “Actually, almost everyone in our house hate my mums cooking, except my dad.” She was laughing now as he continued, “That's why we can always be found at either the Hungry Donner or M'here.”

“Anyway” Aaron finally continued, “I was wondering..”

“Yes?”

“Well, you know dad's old pip unit you gave me for my birthday?”

“She was there, remember?” Tom made face palm gestures in between bites. Aaron shot daggers at him.

“Right, thanks Tom, eat your cake.” And to his mother again, “Well uhh.., as it turns out I could get some of it working again.” His mom looked up.

“Really?”

“Yeah, old stuff from you and dad, nothing gross or anything.” He put in quickly, “But uhh, enough to wonder what happened back then, you know, where uncle Carl might be.” And after a quick glace at his friend, “and uhh, maybe what happened to dad.” he added quietly. His mother, finished with her plate, wiped her mouth and stood to put it with the rest of the dishes. Aaron looked at his friend as she walked the few feet to the kitchen, Tom only shrugged in mid munch.

As Celeste walked back from the kitchen she thought carefully about what she wanted to say. She knew this could happen -he had his fathers gift for tinkering with stuff, and so she knew what she wanted to say.

“Your father left five years ago,” she looked at him as she stood by the table, “and uncle Carl has been out there searching for him all this time.” They never really talked about it before, but Aaron was fast becoming a person old enough to have these questions, so she took a deep breath, “And he hasn't found a trace of your father, nor has anyone seen him, or heard from him.”

Aaron was shaking his head. This wasn't what he wanted to hear. This wasn't what he wanted to ask his mother about.

“As much as I love your father, I'm afraid he's probably-”

“Noooo! You lying!!” Aaron was in tears. What the hell, could she just listen for a second? “He's not dead! He's not!! He's out there, and these tapes, these tapes say so!” Grabbing the pip unit from the table, Aaron stormed up the stairs where the door to his room slammed shut, loudly.

Tom sat at the table still, wondering if he could ask for another soda.

+++

Excusing himself from the kitchen, Tom ventured back up stair where sounds from the radio floated through the open door to his friends room. He could hear Blitzener giving the weather report for the bay area -sunny with a chance of showers of acid rain, and the UV-B count was a whopping 52 for today, so remember that sunblock, kiddies!

“Hey...” Edging it slightly further ajar, Tom poked his head inside cautiously. “It's the cavalry, don't shoot.” He eyed Aaron who lay sprawled out on his bed, slowly turning the pip unit over on the bed.

“Sorry 'bout that.” Aaron was still toying with the pip unit in his hands.

“Yeah well, I just talked to your mom, and convinced her to let you stay at my place this week while she's gone.”

“Seaweed stew all week? No thanks.” Although they both knew Aaron enjoyed staying with tom's family. There were always so many people about, not dulls ville like up here in the towers. Of course, extra prodding never hurt.

“It's either that or Princess Stomper. She's looking after the place while your mom's gone.” Tom commented as he pretended to be looking at some unnoticed detail in a poster hanging on the wall.

“Seaweed stew.. love it, it's my favorite, yum. And your family aren't the worst on board to be with by the way.” Aaron jumped up, comically over dramatizing his grabbing a bag and looking for stuff to pack.

“That's because you can escape, lucky sod. I'm serving a life sentence, remember? And Jenny's acting mental again..”

“I'll live.”

“With any luck, my mum will be so busy spoiling you, she'll completely forget about abusing me.”

“Great, we both win.”

“Soo.., you really think the answer to what happened to your dad is on that thing?”

“Gotta be.. or at least tell me something about what happened to him.”

“Well, what I said earlier about not knowing anything-”

“The truth hurts, huh?”

“Ha ha, dork. No, what I meant was.. we do know something! Lots actually.”

“How so?”

“Don't you see?” Tom walked over reaching for the pip unit. Aaron handed it to him cautiously with Tom making reassuring gestures. “Here look.” Pushing the replay button and skimming to the end. “Listen, your dad talks about everyone he knew back then, many of whom live either here on board, or on the Minnow.”

“And we can find 'em..” Aaron clued in.

“Yeah..” Tom nodded.

“And get them to tell about my dad..” Aaron continued. “By any means possible.”

“I can do irritating very well.” Tom ventured happily, knowing things would start happening soon. With Aaron, things usually did.

“We'll need that.” Aaron mentioned towards Tom's self acknowledged social skills while throwing some things into a duffle bag for the stay.

“What we need, is to get outta here before princess Stomper gets here.. honestly, as mutants go, she scares me.”

Aaron, having grown up a while on the farm with his uncle Archie -a nine foot, 800 pnd mutant followed everywhere by a pack of wasteland dogs he called his family, wasn't too phased by mutants as Tom was. But the princess was a ok, if somewhat over protective.

“She's okay, as long as you don't have to share a room with her, she snores like a chainsaw and a bullhorn had a love child together, and then beat it to death.

Back down stairs, Celeste was finishing up with the dishes, rinsing them with rain water from a bucket Aaron had drawn from the reservoir earlier. Rinsing with the semi salt water from the taps was vile, and left a the dishes tasting salty. Putting the plates away, she heard the boy laughing up stairs, she stopped and catching a glimpse of herself reflected in the plates surface, realized the time that had passed.

Five years.


Well, he came home from college just the other day
So much like a man I just had to say
"Son, I'm proud of you, can you sit for a while?"
He shook his head and said with a smile
"What I'd really like, Dad, is to borrow the car keys
See you later, can I have them please?"

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man on the moon
When you comin' home son?
I don't know when, but we'll get together then son
You know we'll have a good time then

+++ five years earlier +++

“Then what, uncle Acky?”

“Uhh.., lemme sees 'ere.. uhh... errr.. 'ang on, der's some big wordy bits 'ere..”

The stairs to the attic were dark, the door shut. Inside, light came from the window at the far end, as well as small shafts of light from a structure at the other end, in the corner, behind some boxes was a crude barricade built from planks and cardboard, with a sign written in crayon over a tiny doorway,

'timothy's fort'
'No Gurls!!'

Next to it was a taped note that read

'& Aaron to!'

sticking out of the fort's doorway were a set of massively over sized feet trailing two hugely muscled legs, that both disappeared into the fort, the beam from a flashlight struggling to fit though the occupied doorway, and escape further into the attic proper.

Looking closer inside the fort, the rest of the muscled body was crammed into the fort as much as it would fit -which wasn't much considering the other occupant, a much smaller occupant, who was currently badgering his uncle for the rest of the story.

“And den Grognak says to da dragun 'Aaaaaarrrrhggggllll!!!' and den stomps it in 'is 'ead. See? 'ere on dis page, see?”

“Then what?”

“Uhhm..., err.. it sayz and den Grognak took da trr-eyeble guurl to 'is place and uhh, did fings wit her.”

“What things?” Inquisitively he asked. Archie wasn't sure himself, but the suggestions scratched at something deep within him, something nearly forgotten with time.

Uhhmm, it don't say” Looking at the last page, “But prolly she gets swanky new cloths an' stuff cuz 'ere at the end he's takin' her old stuff off of her, and den it ends.” he put the comic down. “Guurlz likes dem swanky stuff.”

“Pfft.. guurls.. blech!”

“And what, exactly, do you to gentlemen have against girls? I'm a girl to ya know?” Came a voice from out in the attic.

“Hey mom! You're not allowed in here!!” A trap door in the roof of the fort opened up, and an irritated six year old's face popped out. “No guurlz!”

“Well, this girl is telling the two of you to wash up for dinner, and Archie, Lunk was in the vegetable garden again. Do whatever it is you do with them, and please keep that dog out of there.”

A muffled “yes ma'am” emitted from the fort. Aaron's head ducked back in, and then popped back out again, all smiles.

“Sokay mom, we'll take care of it!” Then disappeared again.

Well okay.. dinner in five minutes.” Leaving the attic unsure whether this could be classified as a success, or failure in parenting..

As she came down the stairs, she heard the dogs bark outside in excitement, and a voice from outside as well amidst the tumult.

“Okay, okay.. here, here.. Hi ya big guy, how ya doin' then? Yeesss, good boy.., geez how many of you does Archie have? Yes, yes, I have some snacks.. here guys have fun.. I smell real food anyway.”

Outside in front of the porch, surrounded by dogs of all sizes, each trying harder to greet the newcomer, who was obviously a friend.

“Carl!?”

“Hey there sweet cheeks, hubby home yet?” As he tried in vain to dislodge himself from the pack.

Celeste now looked concerned. “I thought he was with you.”


I've long since retired, my son's moved away
I called him up just the other day
I said, "I'd like to see you if you don't mind"
He said, "I'd love to, Dad, if I can find the time
You see my new job's a hassle and kids have the flu
But it's sure nice talking to you, Dad
It's been sure nice talking to you"

And as I hung up the phone it occurred to me
He'd grown up just like me
My boy was just like me

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man on the moon
When you comin' home son?
I don't know when, but we'll get together then son
You know we'll have a good time then

This post has been edited by old Andy: Aug 21 2011, 01:02 AM

[haute ecole rider]

Hey, don't worry ol' Andee! I'm still reading every new post you put up!

Your stream of consciousness style of writing is difficult to follow, but enjoyable nonetheless. I've had fun getting reacquainted with Celeste and Princess Stomper and Carl and my favorite - Archie! Also I loved meeting the boys Tom and Aaron. I can't wait to see what kind of trouble they get themselves into.

[old Andy]

Hey, don't worry ol' Andee! I'm still reading every new post you put up!

Your stream of consciousness style of writing is difficult to follow, but enjoyable nonetheless. I've had fun getting reacquainted with Celeste and Princess Stomper and Carl and my favorite - Archie! Also I loved meeting the boys Tom and Aaron. I can't wait to see what kind of trouble they get themselves into.

thanks, it's gonna be fun





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+++ Somewhere over Pittsburgh, along the Ohio river +++

In free fall, you have a few necessities in life you have to keep an eye on, little things, the ones that don't really take up any time at all, but need to be monitored occasionally non the less, and can be dealt with in the way one watches the road while contemplating ones destination. Other than that, one is free to reflect on matters and enjoy the view for as long as it lasts.

The little things, like altitude, which was eight thousand meters and diminishing rapidly, my drop speed, which was over a hundred kph, climbing steadily, and if the manual was anything to go by would hit terminal at a hundred and twenty kph, together made it possible to roughly estimate the duration of the free fall, and the time one had to contemplate the deeper philosophies of plummeting towards earth.

About four minutes.

Give or take. The wind gradient was..., well, all over the place actually thanks to the storm. But we wanted the storm since it would play havoc with any early warning detection sensors that were down there.

Internal guidance was showing some problems, but they were mainly due to the doppler radar having to deal with the storm. read out on the heads up display certainly wasn't helpful -a uniform gray mist across the screen. A weak 3D over lay was projected up on the visor, which would get stronger as the guidance processor received more useful information from the doppler read out, something that was sure to happen as the ground got closer.

Currently the only thing showing up on the Doppler as a solid contact was a large object closing fast from above and slightly behind me. Obviously it was Carl so I keyed the suits comms.

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!”

Collision indicators bleeped red momentarily as he screamed past. I didn't need the display to see him tumbling downward, barely missing me.

“Level out!” I barked into the mike, “Spread out flat and adjust until you're horizontal!” Pulling my arms inward I dropped downward into a nosedive, using both the Doppler display as well as visual to zero in on him, noting my rapidly increasing drop speed go beyond the 'safe terminal velocity maximum'.

“Can't.. level.. out.” Came though over the comms system. “My adjusters are jammed... somehow. The ventral nozzles on my right arm are clogged and I'm tumbling over two axles.” He sounded worried.

“I'll be right there, buddy.” As my proximity readings dropped to tens of meters from Carl, I opened my arms out a little and pulled in my legs, to thrust them forward as I changed position from a nosedive to coming in feet first. The last thing I wanted was to get kicked in the head while approaching him. “Ready in three.., two.., and...”

Carl was still complaining on how he had never liked the idea from the start.

+++ Baltimore, a decade earlier +++

“I don't like it.”

We followed the truck with Celeste and the others in it all the way from DC up to Baltimore, before losing the trail briefly amongst the downtown ruins. That's when we doubled back to where we left Shak and Smiley at the front gates to Zion, having decided to ask the locals directions as well as what they maybe knew.

They knew plenty.

Two hours later we were perched up within the ruins of an old office building observing the compound, twenty five Zulu warriors from the Zion nation, armed for bear and eager to make a kill.

Carl looked up from the scope and over at me. I was still looking through the binoculars but could feel his questioning eyes on me. The entire area that the compound consisted of wasn't small. Three blocks wide with the complete monestary sandwiched in between, but it was at least ten city blocks long from east to west away from the main church buildings and all the way to the old Baltimore Correctional and Behavioral Modification center. That meant a lot of people, with potentially a lot of guns.

“Because one way or the other they used to be brigade, and we don't arbitrarily slaughter our own.” Cutting off his inevitable questioning my reserves to his plan. “Now matter how painted up they've become.” It was the behavioral modification center that had our attention, since it was here that Simba's scouts had seen a truck pull into a few days earlier. This side also had the most security.

“You know they'll kill you in an instant, don't you?” If Carl's remark had been any drier, he would've evaporated.

Simba, Shak's eldest son of sixteen and a man at that age, spoke quietly from where he lay next to Carl, “Fighting the black clad soldiers without shooting them, while they are very much shooting at us, will be a difficult, but honorable victory.” Carl looked over at the youth, and then back at me. He was shaking his head and mouthing 'No hamster cave way!' to me so as the boy wouldn't see it.

It wouldn't do good to bring back Shak's son in numerous small sized Ziploc baggies along with the rest of the pride. Not to mention Smiley probably wouldn't be so smiley anymore.

“Okay, except that won't do either.” Making sure I didn't accidentally offend the young warrior, I gave the sky a glace. “Besides, the weather sucks so today ain't a good day to die.”

Scooting back from our position a bit to where I could sit up, I scanned around with the binoculars. “what we need is some kind of distraction.” Glancing over at where Carl was sitting, “You don't happen to have that cute outfit with you by any chance, do you?” He was quick to cut that one short. Grinning I scanned the surroundings.

“Hokay.. no need to go into any of that in front of the lad. No nee to ever go into that ever.”

“Looked like you got into it pretty well actually.” I was looking for something near by that would make a suitable bang, yet far enough away to lure the security away long enough.

“As in n.e.v.e.r.”

Simba squatted near the men, puzzled by the lack of understanding to what they referred to. He had been taken aside and told in solemn tone, and no uncertain terms by his father, that these were two of the greatest warriors to live in the wastelands, and that the totems poles that told of their deeds were higher than buildings, carved from the tallest trees that could be found.

“Any chance one of them survived? You know for Celeste of course. What with her gams any rainy day becomes a roll in the day...”

“We're pretty high up, ya know?” Carl was gazing over the edge of the building fifteen stories downward to the curb. “I wonder how high the average human would bounce?”

“Uh-huh. This high? Five meters.” Choosing to ignore the unrealistic nature of Carl's threatening intonation, I further examining the ruins of what had once been the city's Penn station and rail yard.

“Mas'sar, there... look.” Simba was pointing at the correctional center. “Top floor. The golems we have been seeing only behind windows. Never outside.” I adjusted myself and scanned the top floor windows, the laser rangefinder gave it at over seven hundred meters away. The kid had good eyes.

“Carl, you see it?” Holding the spotter scope to his eyes while laying behind it, he focused in on the activity inside.

“Bugs here's been eating all his carrots.” Peering through the scope. “Geez they're tiny.” As he caught sight of the beings behind the windows.

I could make out various sized people behind the grime encrusted windows, non of them larger than what seemed four or five feet -gauging from the relative window size. Stocky built, with large heads but with a strange bobble to their walk that you didn't associate with the way children walked. More in tune with little people.

“He's working with Oompa Loompa's?” As crass as it was, Carl's assessment wasn't far off. It looked for all the world like dwarfs up there.

“Errm.. yeah. We'll deal with the munchkins later.” Shifting back to the train yard. “Carl. See the choo-choo's?” He did.

“Oooohh.., twains.., yaay!” Trains meant loc's, which meant either diesel or nuclear operated, and that meant plenty to blow up. We had our diversion.

+++

“IMPACT!”

My legs clamped around Carl's waist and immediately I was sucked into his tumble, both of us joined at the hip as I held on while we spiraled downward and sideways through the gail.

“For fucks sake, Andy!”

“Gotcha!”

In what was more luck than planning I had clamped Carl at almost the perfect time during his spin, and could easily position myself and get at his suit. To anyone falling beside us it looked like I was riding a wild bucking horsey in a storm.

“Yiiiii-ha! Ride 'em cowboy!” I hollered. Carl, who was less amused, had a few choice words to say about the matter while I went to work on his equipment. I was sure I heard a thank you Dr. Strangelove somewhere in there.

The Praetorian assault suits have as part of their functionality to help stabilize during vertical incursions (ie. falling), large membranes fitted over the torso that take in the air, heat it and then guide it away from the body out of the ventral nozzles that were laid out along the back of the arms and legs during free fall. These nozzles then acted as adjustment thrusters in leveling out the suit and it's occupant and allowing for the deployment of the suits winglets that were much needed to increase their fall ratio.

Praetorian suits were flysuits like normal fitted types since for one the Praetorian armor had the glide capabilities built in as an after thought, where as with others it was a damn high priority.
But the adjustment thrusters were unique to the suits as far as I knew, taking airflow away from the body and after heating it, guiding it back through nozzles that ran along the lower arms and calves of the armor.


To avoid ice forming in the tubes there was a small heating element on the back of the suit, and as irony would have it, a large dirty hail stone had lodged itself, jamming the mechanism.

“Done and done.” I waited until Carl confirmed that everything was back in the green and functioning properly before breaking away for maneuvering space.

Lets fly brother.

+++

“Lets go brother.” Watching as Carl laid the last of the charges in and amongst the train locomotives of Baltimore's Penn station rail yard.

“Are you sure this will lure 'em out long enough?” He asked while rolling out the charge wire behind him to a central radio controlled detonator.

“There's always plan 'B' if you want.” With a pair of wire strippers it was easy work to connect everything up. Then it was just a matter of checking the batteries in the detonator -very embarrassing thing to forget, let me tell you. Do that once and you'll never forget it again in your life. Assuming you live that is.

“You mean jumping in? Like an aerial assault? hamster that noise.”

At the edge of the train yard we were greeted by a waiting Simba, eager to tell us his Zulu warriors were in place and ready before disappearing into the dark once more. After the train yard blew up they were suppose to fall back north along the rubble of interstate eighty three, hopefully luring the security forces ever further away from us.

Carl and I were quietly making our way south when gunfire rang out behind us. It had to be Simba's group, and it had to be serious or they wouldn't have just opened fire like that. We stopped for a moment to listen. As such we never heard them approach.

“Those are the Redemptioners 'and with their cleansing flame shall they cleanse the un-clean until they are deemed less un-clean, and can go forth into the heavens known as only grimy' said He.”

“Waaa?!” I spun first, and nearly took the head off of a young woman, twenty something if that. Her hair was cesnut, and combed straight where it was held together with a simple ribbon. Her simple gray school uniform, complete with pleated shirt and knee high socks, couldn't have been a starker contrast with the surrounding wastes.

“Who, what.. where way ho, hang on..”

“He sees you, as I do, and know that He knows all and can smite you at any second He wants t-”

An then, the sweet girl with the chestnut hair that was held together by a simple bow, exploded.

She just hamster cave blew up, sending Carl and me flying.

+++

Flying, as a word, I always found to be something of a stretch when it came to the Praetorian suits. 'Falling with severe attitude' seemed to fit the bill more accurately I always felt, with the suit having all the flight characteristics of a bath tub full of water, sloshing around in the air.

Thankfully all we had to do was follow the river northwards and hit dirt on the east side of the river and on this side of Mc Kees bridge. At just over two thousand meters we flew past the Ohio river forks, that which gave the city of old it's name 'city of bridges'.

“Ready to knock on the door?” Carl wasn't. He still wanted pie.

I cued a signal on my wrist and somewhere above us Daniel launched Serenity's payload, sixteen self guided air to ground bunker busters with a five second delayed fuse, all homing in on predetermined targets we'd marked earlier while on the ground, dialing them into Serenity's fire control processor using the rangefinder while we scouted the place.

The Doppler beeped excitedly as a cluster of solid contacts emerged high on the outer edge of my scope; dead ahead, falling fast and we were right behind them.


Knock, knock.

Who's there?

Boo.

Boo who?


Yep, it was pain time.