[Fan Fiction] Story Board

Jane 06-29-2004 09:28 PM
In case you've forgotten, this is a continuation of "Roger the Damned", "Black Forest", "Oh Ye Mortals!", and "In the Circle Cocytus"

Story Board

Angel stumbled through the dark streets of Paradigm. The blood that ran from the wounds in her back had drenched the back of her dress, and the pelting rain that fell relentlessly had soaked the rest. She felt faint and disoriented, but she continued to press forward. It would be better to drop dead on the streets than to be back in Paradigm tower.

Lightning and thunder melded with the noise and light of police sirens as two cars rushed by. Angel watched them as they passed, and thought she saw a familiar face in the lead one. Sure enough, it stopped abruptly seconds later, and Dan Dastun climbed out.

“Angel?” he asked, “Is that you?”

She nodded her head and then fell to her knees in a puddle, splashing the water into glittering points of lights that collided with the falling rain.

“Go on without me,” Dan directed to the men in the other car, “Do whatever it takes, but stop that monstrosity!”

He ran to Angel, pulled off his coat, and draped it over her shoulders. Then, gently, he took her in his arms and lifted her from the pavement. She winced when his arm touched the lacerations in her back.

“We’ve got to get you to the hospital,” he said as he took her to his car and gently laid her in the back seat.

“What about your job?” the words were a struggle, “What’s going on?”

He shrugged, “There’s another giant loose in the city, but it’s all right, Generals are just figureheads anyway. My men can handle it, and if they can’t…”

“Roger’s not coming,” Angel said.

“What?”

Her body shook and she coughed up blood, “He’s not coming.”

Dan put a hand on her shoulder, “You’d better not talk anymore.” He climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

Angel could still hear the rain pounding hard against the windowpane, but in Dastun’s car, it could no longer touch her. She reached back and felt the lines of blood in her back, if it healed, she would be left with a very familiar scar.

***

Roger thought he saw the outlines of a face inside the white light. It was a beautiful face and it looked strangely familiar, although he could not imagine why.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“When you can answer that question, it will finally be finished.” The voice that Roger heard pierced through him. He could feel it inside him, down to the center of his bones.

“Why are you here?” Roger asked.

“To answer your question.” It answered.

Roger realized that he did, in fact, have a question, a question that had plagued him through a thousand lifetimes, but to which he had never been able to answer to his satisfaction.

“Which of my memories are true?” he demanded, “Who am I?”

“Let me answer by telling you of a thing that happened a hundred lifetimes ago,” said the being of light. “At that time a group of entities sought the solution to a problem. There were two options that could work. One had been dubbed Angel (for obvious reasons) and the other, with even less originality, was called Negotiator. Almost from the moment of their conception, a great debate began to rage among the entities that as to which one would be put into place.

Angel was a more cynical approach to the problem, however, if it worked, it would secure success for every entity. Then again, Angel could only guarantee a semblance of redemption, for in the process the long forgotten concept of “choice” would remain lost to them forever. Negotiator was just the opposite, it could restore to them everything they had given up so foolishly an eternity ago: the feeling of the hot sun, the taste of food, the warmth of an embrace, and the independence of individuality. They could regain all the things that had been left behind when they had discarded their bodies and stepped into the nets to become an ever-present mind.

“In fact, Negotiator seemed to be everything they had dreamt of, except it promised nothing. Because it gave them choice, there was a risk that some might choose incorrectly. Negotiator contained the ever-present possibility of failure, and although failure was a thing they could not now experience, it was not a thing they had forgotten. Memories were their playthings now, their only excursion from an unending existence; memories of what had it been like to love, to hate, to succeed, and to fail. The clearest and the strongest of the memories were passed from mind to mind, perhaps they had become distorted from the union, perhaps they had become clearer, but, whatever the case, it was generally accepted history that it was the great Deis that had been used to turn the world into an inferno, and at the end of it the few survivors feasted on their remains to build a great tower that would transport them away from their dead world into a new and ethereal existence.

“They had been fools.”

***

A black, segmented body slunk through the streets of Paradigm. It moved at an astonishing speed as it undulated through the city, lashing through buildings and slamming across the pavement like a snake whipping through the water. Its bright red eyes cast a crimson glow, and its dark body seemed oily in the mix of rain and moonlight.

The military police were having enough difficulty just trying to keep up with the thing, much less slow it down. The missiles they fired at it bounced off as if they were little more than pinpricks, and their precious tanks were quickly crushed beneath its bulk.

Thus far, most of the damage had been confined to unoccupied buildings outside the domes, but the thing was sidling its way towards populated areas, and the causalities would be enormous.

The thing lifted its head off the ground, gazed across the city, opened its gaping maw, and let out a horrific scream that brought the policemen to their knees desperately clasping their hands over their ears.

In a moment, they were enveloped in a cloud of black smoke. They heard the sound of spinning propellers, and the smoke began to clear. It seemed certain that the robotic snake had done something terrible within the cloud, and as it drifted away they were truly shocked by the sight that was revealed.

The black snake was caught in the grasp of a great red megadeus that was squeezing the thing by the neck as if flailed about violently. It swung its long tail off the ground and whacked the Deus hard across the head, knocking off a chunk of the yellow plate across its forehead.

Inside the cockpit of the great machine, the pilot—Seebach, was laughing. “Do you think you can harm the great Big Duo, you insignificant little worm?”

Big Duo smashed his opponent into the ground, grinding it into the pavement in a manner that sent great slabs of concrete flying into the air, and causing the watching police to scurry back into their cars and tanks for protection.

While the thing wriggled in the dirt, Big Duo flipped his arms upwards and turned its hands into spinning propellers that lifted it from the ground along with the fire that spurted from his elbows.

As it lifted into the sky, it let loose a downward blast from its eyes that cut through the snake and caused it to let out another earsplitting scream.
Jane 06-29-2004 09:31 PM
***

Angel woke up at the sound of the scream. She was disoriented momentarily by the unfamiliar sterile, stark hospital room, but when she saw Dan Dastun sitting quietly next to her bed, she was instantly comforted.

“Dan,” she said with tears in her eyes, “Thank you so much. I’m not sure what I would have done if you hadn’t found me.”

He smiled, reached over, and gave her hand a squeeze; his hands were large, calloused, and warm. “I’m your friend Angel. Please believe that.”

She looked at him suspiciously and laughed. The laugh made her cough, and she curled up on the bed as it shook her, Dan’s hand resting gently on her back while they waited for the spasm to pass.

When she was composed, he stepped away from her and looked out the window. What he saw made his eyes go wide with surprise. “It can’t be…” he said, disbelieving, “Another one? A flying megadeus?”

Angel sat up in bed, “A megadeus that can fly?” She struggled a moment before she remembered the name she was searching for, “Schwarzwald! Big Duo!” She began to cry, “What is he doing? Why is it never over! Why will it never end! Why won’t it end?”

She fell down into the bed in a fit of frustrated sobs that baffled Dastun. She lifted her head a moment to smile at him through her tears. “Do you know what the term déjà vu means Dan?”

He shook his head that he did not.

She smiled and said laughing, “Vous êtes si gentil.”

He was shocked by the phrase, though he didn’t know why, and he was embarrassed and hurt that she would laugh at him. He smoothed back the memory of his hair, placed his hat on his head, and turned towards the door. She grabbed onto his arm as he passed. He looked down and saw the desperation in her eyes.

“I’m sorry Dan,” she said, “That was terrible of me. I seem to feel I have to nettle everyone I meet, but I didn’t want to hurt you.”

He almost reached out and stroked her cheek.

“I’m just trying to sort out everything,” Angel said, “Everyone seems to know more about me than I do.”

“Except me,” Dastun thought.

“I felt so out of control, but so full of power. And revenge was in me, and hate, and all-consuming misery, but it wasn’t mine Dan. And now I feel so empty. As if I’m a kettle that was filled and now is poured out, but I don’t want to be filled with that kind of animosity. Yet I don’t think I have a choice.”

Dastun wasn’t sure what to do, but he knew she needed comfort. He reached down and took his gun out of his holster. Then he took her hand and wrapped her fingers around the cold steel. An excited chill went through him when he touched her small hand, so he quickly pulled his own away.

“Here,” he said, “You’re a fighter. You’ll be all right.”

Angel smiled, “It’s just like last time…” she frowned, “but then, you don’t remember the last time, do you? You shouldn’t even remember me, but you do. I wonder why?”

He wasn’t sure what she meant, but the feel of a weapon in her hand, and the protection it gave her, was making her calm. And he could see the strong, confident woman he remembered emerging. He was lost for a moment, dwelling on her, but then a tremor brought him back and he remembered his duty.

He smiled at Angel and went to the door. “If you ever need me,” he said, “You know where to find me. Please ask.”

She smiled back at him and then he left.

***

Roger did not know it, but he was still lying on his back, his eyes locked in an upward gaze. As he laid there, his mind struggling to stay sane, eight red cables began to slink along the floor towards him, coiling and twisting in a reptilian manner. But Roger was not aware of them. He eyes were locked on the being above him, and his ears heard only its voice.

“They were fools,” it said. “They climbed the spiral stairs of the tower, all the time thinking they had found a way to heaven, but when they arrived on the other side, they found that what they had really created was a passageway into hell. They had left their bodies and their world behind them and stepped over into a new plane of existence. For a time the freedom was exhilarating, but as life stretched on eternally they soon realized that they had become cripples. Although they could reach beyond the sun and the stars, there was nothing they could truly touch. They had become universal flotsam, like axons continually reaching for dendrites, but without any hands to carry out the message. They could create nothing, and they despaired.

“So they looked backwards to the world they had lost. For a time they could not find it for it had become unrecognizable. The dead world they had left had changed and found new life, but it still contained an entity they recognized, an entity that led them home: the tower. And in finding the tower, at last they found something tangible that was within their reach. There was a path back, but it would be a difficult road to follow.

“The tower had become the door to reality, but they had become intangible beings and could no longer step through the door. Thus the necessity for the creation of a program that could mediate between planes of existence and two such were proposed: Angel would continually reset the program until all entities had found the door, Negotiator would find the door first, and then present the choice and the path to the others within the Paradigm. In the end, the entities decided to do away with Angel, but the frustrated creator of the program, a being who has become known as Slander, put his rejected creation in place anyway. When the others discovered what he had done, Slander and his followers were exiled and denied access to the tower. Yet it was too late, Angel could not be undone, and thus was born the competition between two programs, both in opposition to one another, and neither succeeding in its goal. For thousands of years it has continued thus, and the door to reality has not been found.

“You are Negotiator Roger Smith. It is you who must find the way out of this paradigm.”

Roger felt something nestling against his back, and his mind snapped to attention. A probe cable reared up in front of his face, like a snake about to strike.

“No!” Roger cried, and the cable fell back. He scrambled up from the floor and batted the cables away like vermin. “No! This is my choice!” he cried desperately, “This is my choice!”

“Yes, this is your choice,” said the far-away voice, “But if you choose to stand in the rain, all of Paradigm will be flooded.”

***

Dorothy Wainwright felt the mechanics within her slowly churn back to life before she ever opened her eyes, and could immediately sense that she was not alone. She kept her body still, and listened carefully to the sounds around her. From the sound of clicking heels and an almost imperceptible squeal, she deduced that the other android was still lurking nearby. On the next pass of the snapping shoes, she swung out her leg and knocked her down.

Quickly, Dorothy opened her eyes and sat up, searching for the gun. She saw that it had fallen within reach of her good arm. She grabbed it, and pointed it at the other woman, and lifted herself off of the floor. Then Dorothy stood up gingerly, carefully balancing herself on wobbly legs.

“I want to go home,” she said matter-of-factly, “Please let me go or I will hurt you.”

The curly-headed robot laughed, “I won’t stop you Miss Wayneright, but make sure to watch yourself around your boyfriend.”

Dorothy waited calmly. She knew there was more to be said.

“The machine that was in here,” the android continued, “It was one of the exiles, but all it needed to gain access to Paradigm was contact with you. Don’t you see? You are the access key that opens the door, but you are not human! You and I have no souls, and without Paradigm we have nothing!”

Dorothy realized that the android was probably crazy. She dropped the gun and turned to leave, hobbling forward as best she could. Behind her, she heard a desperate screaming.

“He will destroy you in the end! Don’t you realize that this it the reason you exist! You were created so that you could be used up!”

Dorothy ignored her.

***

The black snake reared off the ground and flew at Big Duo, catching hold of his legs and coiling around them tightly. It pressed in on the Deus tightly, like a boa squeezing its prey. The metal of Duo’s casing creaked and groaned under the pressure of it, and he began to spin through the air in wild maneuvers, attempting to free itself of the pest. But the snake held on tightly, and began to inch itself upwards, wringing its opponent as it went.

When it reached Duo’s chest, the megadeus fired its missiles. The blast flung them both apart violently, and the robot fell to the ground, wriggling. Big Duo was left with a great gash across his chest, but seemed undaunted. He turned and charged down towards the wounded serpent, opening a concealed compartment in his kneecaps and revealing two giant missiles. The serpent reared up and gazed up at the approaching Big. It opened it mouth and let out a scream that rippled through the city and crumbled the nearest buildings. The air around Big Duo rippled and its body armor began to shake and a few pieces came loose and fell to the ground with a crash, but it continued forward, and from its leg panels flew two great instruments of death. The serpent was blown wide open, and its pieces scattered across the area. Big Duo disappeared into the sky, hidden by the debris, an eerie laugh trailing his departure. The last any observers saw of him was his outline as a bolt of lightning ripped through the sky. The second megadeus was gone.
Jane 06-29-2004 09:35 PM
***

Dorothy hobbled from the Wainwright manor, struggling to balance as best she could on the fragmented remains of her circuitry. She paused a moment to readjust herself, and realized that her eyes had been focused on the ground. She let them wander upwards as her body automatically rerouted power through her system in an effort to control her weakened appendages. Meanwhile, her eyes locked on a lean figure dressed in gold that leaned against the gate.

“Beck,” Dorothy said. “You escaped.”

He laughed and spread his arms out towards the sky, “Of course I did! I’m Jason Beck!” Then almost sheepishly he admitted, “And security ain’t so tight when there’re giant robots about.”

“Why are you here?” she asked, “What do you want now?”

He thrust his hands deep in his pockets and strolled casually towards her, “I remembered why I hate him. But I also remembered that I helped you once, and I’ve decided to help you again. You understand, I still can’t stand either of you, but I’ll help you just the same.”

“Why?” Dorothy asked, “What is it that you want.”

“I want girls, fast cars, nice suits, and…” he stopped and sighed, “You see!” he said, “this is why I can’t stand you, doll. My speeches always fall flat in front of such a picky audience.” He pulled out a cigar, lit it, and began to smoke, “I want to be Jason Beck,” he said between puffs, “that’s all I really want.”

“And what will you do?” she asked.

“For one thing,” he said, “I can give you a ride home. I picked up pretty little coupé on my way here. You just hop in and I’ll take you to that lover-boy of yours.”

“Roger,” Dorothy said, and suddenly she was worried, “Yes. We have to go to Roger. We have to go to him now.”
Tony Waynewrong 06-30-2004 09:52 AM
I am honored to be the first to write a response to your story, Jane. IT IS AWESOME!!! I love how dark and gloomy you make your season 3 to be.

Kudos and high five! You really have out done yourself.
Madrona 07-01-2004 01:37 PM
Jane,

I'm glad you were able to continue your story. I just love reading this stuff! Looking forward to more...as always.

madrona
NotAsleep 07-01-2004 05:10 PM
As the others have said, thanks for continuing your story. I look forward to seeing where you take it from here.
Tifaria 07-03-2004 10:42 AM
Jane, I'm loving this. I can't even begin to imagine where it's all going, but I love it. The Dastun/Angel and Dorothy/Beck interactions were particularly well done. The curly-haired android's comment about Roger destroying Dorothy is the most intriguing thing. I'm anxious to read more. Smile )
Pygmalion 07-03-2004 02:25 PM
Looking good. You've got the screws turned in pretty tight now. I eagerly await another installment.

Pygmalion

P.S. Sorry about losing the edit, but you caught most of what I found anyway.
BabyGhia 01-13-2005 02:12 AM
The part about Angel and Negotiator along with Slander is very interesting. Very well thought out. Wow! Great stories, Jane.

Off to the next one...

BabyGhia