Saturday, May 15, 2010

Angry Jasper: Thirty-five

They had come to kill Jazz, men from Thomas’ mysterious and infamous elite guard. There could be no loose ends, after all. There should be no chance that anyone would interfere with Thomas’ rise to power, or his ultimate plan. It wasn't personal. These were the burdens of power. For political power is an animal that saw in every ambitious man a threat, and every honest man a liar. Perhaps most dangerous of all was a man of unknown character. Jazz was, for Thomas and the rebellion, unknown, and most certainly a character.

The guard Jazz had left unconscious in the cell was just coming around when the men arrived. He feigned a dumb smile and winced at the pounding hurt pulsing through his head. Truth of it was, the poor fool was terrified and trembling worse than he could ever recall. The look of these men, their faces like costume death masks, their putrid smell and merciless eyes brought to mind all manner of hideous fates. They were only confirmed when the commander noticed the open cell door and fumed.

“You let him escape!”

“I, uh, they must have jimmied it somehow,” the guard swallowed hard.

“And how did he overpower you?” the commander shouted, the tones and frequencies of his voice seeming to split and tear themselves in two before coming back together.

The guard looked to each of the men, his throat sudden too dry and hollow to speak, even if he could form a semi'cohesive excuse. The commander’s eyes were as black as night, like a cat’s eyes at night. The guard instantly thought hybrid, but then saw something else that caused him to stumble backwards. He bumped into one of the others and saw that same thing in his eyes as well. The breath fled from his lungs, and he knew what was about to happen.

“What a day,” he groaned as something appeared from the commander’s side. It was a blur really. It reminded him of, well, a spider’s leg, but was far too fast to see clearly. In the blink of his eye the guard’s head was separated from his body. Strange, the poor fool thought as his head tumbled through the air, he was still cogniscent of what was happening. Oh, there was ample confusion, to be sure. The blur of landscape and shadows processed slowly in that confusion. The best he could figure was that he was spinning in midair, rather than sailing across the passage way. As luck would have it he landed forehead first against the thigh of his dying body and rolled upright so that he was looking directly at the commander. It wasn't the commander though, but something….At that moment the world faded to a painless and merciful darkness.

“I want the bounty hunter found,” ordered the commander. “Whatever it takes.”

“Commander,” said one of the others, “there was a boy in the cell also. I assume...”

“Both of them. Bring them both to me, whole or in pieces, but do not fail me on this!” snapped the commander. He glanced down upon the guard's head, and into those lifeless eyes. He spit and kicked the head hard, connecting at the right temple. The head sailed away into the shadows where, unseen, it smashed against the wall with a sickening splat.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Angry Jasper: Thirty-four

Maury’s sleek and polished weapon moved slowly into position high above the planet. The sun, just rising above the long curbed limb of the planet shimmered across the weapon's long cylindrical form. Reports from the weapon were that they were well ahead of schedule. It would be a matter of hours not days as had originally been planned. Even now technicians were running the final series of tests. Maury was pleased with himself. His thoughts ran through all sorts of scenarios, all of which would secure for him a position of supreme power within the Corporation.

“Thing of beauty,” Maury beamed.

Two finely dressed men stood behind Maury. They were pencil thin engineering clones, known as Identicals, because they were absolutely indistinguishable from one another. Their mahogany features were chiseled, their jet black hair combed away from those oversized foreheads in harsh straight lines. The two men shared an odd look. Maury caught it instantly.

“Let me guess, this is where you tell me there’s a problem right?” he grumbled

“There is a problem.”

“I can’t wait,” said Maury. “Okay. Out with it.”

“Well, we sort of…about the weapon, it hasn’t been tested yet.”

“I am to bore a hole right through the crust of that ashtray of a planet and roast all those little rats alive.”

“Well, therein lies the issue,” said one of the Identicals.

“So we went through all of this and the damn think might not…”

“No, it will work.”

“What he’s saying is, it might work too good.”

“The two of you are seriously pissing me off. What do you mean too good?”

“There’s a chance it could, well, blow the planet apart.”

Maury turned back towards the gold and blue ball of Planet Earth drifting in space. At this distance the planet was a magnificent sight. He imagined the earth dissolving into a million pieces. Maury snickered. It turned into a chuckle and then an uproarious laugh. He laughed so damn hard that tears were quickly tumbling down his engorged cheeks, and a little bit of pee stained his trousers. He nodded and wiped the tears from his eyes.

“Well, shit, I thought it was going to be something bad!” he turned, squinting at the Identicals. “I want the rebels eradicated. I could care less about the damned planet. Besides, it will be easier to mine in pieces.” He turned back to the planet. His expression was stark and resolute. “Proceed with the operation.”

“Governor,” said the short man, “it would be advisable to move the wheel to a safer distance should the unthinkable…”

Maury swiveled sharply, staring accusingly at the two men. “And how long would that take?”


“We could be at a respectably safe distance in a week to ten days.”

“Ha!” Maury scoffed. “Ten days? The longer that thing sits about the planet the greater chance the rebellion will discover and neutralize it. Out of the question!”

“But Governor…” one of them protested.

“Is this a mutiny, gentlemen?” asked Maury, quite indignant.

“No, no, your honor,” they stammered nervously.

“In that case you have your orders.”

The men started to leave. They paused. “Governor, one more small detail. Our spy on the planet...”

Maury could have cared less about the fellow. This was a war, after all, and war meant casualties. At long last he was close to annihilating the rebellion, and the payoff on that was far greater than the loss of one man.

“His sacrifice will be long remembered,” said Maury, with not the slightest remorse.

When the Identicals had gone Maury fondled himself while pondering the fate of the planet. He almost lamented his lack of sympathy that the Earth might soon be reduced to dust, erasing for all time humanity's first assertions towards the endless universe. Then again, why should he care? He hadn’t been born there. His parents, nor even his grandparents had been born there. He was a child of the stars. So what did he care if the Earth was gone. Would men in the Twenty-first century have lamented if the Olduvai Gorge was bulldozed, strip-mined or covered over simply because some fossil had crawled from that sun-baked ditch? Mankind had always been progressing, pulling away from a planet that was of little consequence any longer, but for its mineral wealth and a throw-back rebellion whose time was at hand. Good riddance, he thought and didn’t give it another thought.

Angry Jasper: Thirty-three

You got a very special mom, kid,” said Jazz. Skull Boy peeked over Jazz’ shoulder as he carefully scraped the last of the chalky and rotting wall from around the final bolt.

“I do?”
“To love a face like that,” he grimaced. Jazz glanced back over his shoulder at the kid and felt a shiver run through him. “And could you not stand quite so close.”

“Getting in your light?”

“No, you’re making me sick.”

Suddenly the bolt popped free. It tumbled from the wall and spun in the air for a he art-stopping moment before Jazz caught it. He peeked through the slit inj the door once more. The guard was sound asleep, tipped back against the wall in a small chair. With a deep breath Jazz pulled the door aside just enough to squeeze through. Skull Boy was right behind him. Jazz turned and knelt to tell the kid his plan. Skull Boy brushed past and ran straight up to the sleeping guard.

The kid looked back at Jazz, his fingers a hair's breadth from flicking the guard's ear and frowned, as if this was something he couldn't explain but which needed to be done. Jazz wanted to scream and wring the kid's throat, but he too far away and helpless to do anything now. Skull Boy flicked the guard's ear with an audible thwap. Jazz bowed his head and sighed, but the poor lout woke with such a start that he leapt backwards. The legs of the chair flipped forward. In a blur of flailing arms and legs the guard's head banged off the wall knocking the guy cold.

“Do that on purpose?” Jazz rushed forward, giving the unconscious guard another good slug.

“What do you think?”

Jazz grabbed the guard’s ARP, checked the power meter and stuffed it into his belt. “That’s funny. Got a sense of humor kid. Now let’s get out of here.”

They dragged the guard into the cell and pulled the door closed. With luck he'd be out a good long while. That might just give them enough time to make it out and back to the surface. Jazz started down the corridor. Skull Boy remained beside the door with a disappointed expression on that hideously ugly face.

“Coming or not?’

“Not that way,” said the kid.

“Why not?”

“Men. They’re coming to kill you.”

“Kill me? How do you…?”

“This way.”

Jazz had a bad feeling as he followed the kid down deeper and darker corridors. These were the bowels, the fringes of the rebellion's underground great subterreanean body. Rats as big as a man’s body eyed the pair hungrily. Some of the passages were flooded up to their knees, and by the smell Jazz guessed they were somewhere about that great body's ass..

Monday, May 10, 2010

Angry Jasper: Thirty-two

Katy was in such a pissy mood. Buzz hated being around when she was that way. Not that she was afraid of her, though she had a tendency for smashing stuff when she was like this. Kate had never harmed a bolt on his head, but the threat was always there, as if she would lose complete control in a moment. It was just the tension that threatened to overloaded his circuits. Kate’s mood made it so much harder for his other functions to operate. He groaned, and could already feel the circuits falling off one by one in these jittery and illogical (human) sort of quirks and mistakes.

He might have easily blown her off. After all, he’d seen more than his share of Kate's emotional mine fields. This one was different though. Not anything specific he could necessarily put his alloy finger on. This was one was of a much darker character, like she was being trapped or blackmailed into something from which she could see no escape. Kate wasn’t the kind of gal who could be forced or cajoled into anything, and she wasn't the sort to hide her thoughts. Too often Buzz couldn't shut her up. Bur this time she was beyond silent. It was beyond brooding. It was, well...hopeless.

Kate walked right past him and sort of groaned as she sat heavily on the small bed in the corner. Eager to turn her mood somehow, Buzz pulled out a small vibrator. He affixed it to the top of his head and saddled up beside her with this dumb hey-baby-can-I satisfy-you sort of smirk. He tried to sell it with a wink, but the mechanical eyelid caught mid way and buzzed until he wacked his head and it rolled back into place. When she didn’t acknowledge him Buzz gave the vibrator a little rev, and sort of leaned over, trying to force her gaze. He revved the vibrator twice more quickly.

“Not in the mood, Buzz,” she sighed, glumly

“Just trying to help.” There were all this little hairs all over her clothes. Thomas’ no doubt, and it was kind of revolting, Buzz thought, imagining the creepy fellow all over her.

“You can’t.”

“What happened with Thomas?” he asked.

Buzz pulled the vibrator off and stowed it away. He sat beside her. She was staring into space. Kate let out a long, mournful groan.

“Things are really eff-ed-up, pal,” she said.

Buzz scoffed. “All hail queen of the obvious.”

She looked sharply at him. “I need to know all there is about Thomas.”

“You don’t trust him?”

“You do?” she replied, with the quality of a drowning soul.

“The guy creeps me out for some reason.”

She stood and paced the room, figuring. She turned suddenly. “I want you to find something on him.”

“Like what?” Buzz asked, indignant.

“I don’t know, anything.”

“The magic word would be nice,” he said.
“What?’

“Please, would be…”
She cut him off. “Just do it! You’re a damned robot. Do as you are told!”

Buzz was taken aback by the venom of her outburst. Sure, he was a robot, a cyber-being, a machine, but he still had feelings, for Pete’s sake. He didn’t have to take that kind of abuse.

“That’s right,” Buzz fired back, “a robot, not your damned slave, you cranky old skank.”

Kate raged to heaven. “Please, god, give me the strength to send this one back to the recycle heap!”

“If you wanted a machine that would jump whenever you wanted, cut two slots in my back and make he a toaster!”

“At least a toaster would do its friggin’ job!”

“That’s it!” Buzz exclaimed. He'd had enough and could feel his circuitry overheating. The mechanic after his last overhaul warned that he had a tendency towards high core pressure. Too much strain and he ran the risk of serious, and maybe even fatal flare out. “Don’t take this crap out on me. I thought we were friends, partners…”

Buzz saw immediately that he had gotten to her. Just in time too. He damn near busted a seam on that one. She turned towards the door and hung her head.

“I’m not gonna apologize,” she said quietly. She never apologized, at least not in so many words. “You, uh, you are the best partner I’ve ever had, at least out of the sack.”

“Well…”

“You know what I mean.”

She turned, her eyes pleading. “Buzz, I really need your help.”

“First of all, change clothes,” he suggested. “There’s hair all over you, and I just can’t look at it any longer.”

“Hair?” she exclaimed. Kate hadn’t noticed it before. “Buzz, that’s it. Let’s run a DNA test with his hair and run it against the rebel databases and see who it matches. All his ancestors might have bought it at Branson, but their DNA lives on in him.”

Buzz carefully lifted several strands from her clothing. He was more than curious too. Problem was, he had never actually run a DNA program before. Sure, the procedure was programmed into his hard drive, but that was different from actually performing it, and he told Kate as much.

“You have to try,” she urged. “And please do it fast.”

Time was running out, and both of them knew it, but in ways they could never have guessed. Time was running out for everyone, for the earth, the alliance and the Corporation. Little could Kate have guessed what fate still held in store for her, throwing her headlong into a fight that would determine the very existence of all mankind.

Angry-Jasper: Thirty-one

The heavy wooden cell door slammed shut behind Jazz with a soul shattering finality. The cell was as cold and dark as a cave, and only dimly lit by a dingy dull light stuttering from a bulb above the door. The room stunk of old sweat and piss, wet stone and thick mats of deep green moss that covered the walls. Tacky wet bits from the low ceiling pelted his head and shoulders as the Corporation continued its punishing retaliation.

Jazz wasn’t alone, and he knew it immediately. Just who or what was there was impossible to tell right off. He backed against the door as his eyes grudgingly adjusted to the darkness and clenched his fist, ready for a fight.. The light from the flickering bulb threw itself in a narrow channel across the wet stone floor. Jazz sort of rocked up and back, scanning the blackness for the slightest hint of danger.

Suddenly a small figure moved into the light startling him. Jazz screamed. It was the scream of a frightened little girl, high and sharp. The thing’s face was hideous and deformed, staring at him with these big black monstrous eyes. The creatures flesh was pale, and painted in the jaundiced hue of the bulb. It looked at him disbelieving, those huge black eyes blinking once.

“What the shit!” he exclaimed.

It disappeared again, skidding and scurrying to the back of the cell. Jazz strained to see, but it lost to the darkness.

“Count to three,” he said shakily. “You better show yourself!”

There was a painfully long moment when Jazz feared he would have to go hunting for his prey. He wondered if it had rabies, or might maul him in the blackness where it held the advantage with those mammoth eyeballs. It moved into the light again, this time looking up at him with sad, almost needing puppy dog eyes. Those huge eyes blinked again, and a tear ran down the creature’s pale cheek.

For Christ’s sake, Jazz could hardly look at the damn thing. Its sunken features and withdrawn lips nearly made him gag. It took a very long moment to realize that it was a young boy. What hair there was grew in thin patches in odd places. There was no nose to speak of, but rather two grotesquely open pits. Skin was pulled tight revealing blue-ish veins beneath. Jazz was staring into the face of a living freaking skull, thinking that this kid would lead a very lonely life, outside a home for the blind. Madame  was right. Jazz had no trouble recognizing her kid.

“Bartholomew,” the boy said, catching Jazz by surprise.

“What?”

“My name. You were going to ask my name.”

“Bartholomew?”

The boy nodded.

“What kind of pussie name…? Never mind.”

“Mother calls me…”

“You’re skull boy,” he said flatly, running his fingers along the edge of the door. “Now what we need is a way out of here.”

“I think you will die,” said Skull Boy.

“What?’ Jazz turned, annoyed.

“I can see the future, and I’m not skull boy!”

“You got the head of a skull, and Bartholomew is just bit too dainty for me. So skull boy it is. Now what’s all this about me dying, huh?”

“Unfortunately it won’t be permanent.”

“Oh, okay,” Jazz scoffed, “I’ll just die for a little while. Got bats fluttering inside that skull, kid.”

Jazz peered through the slit in the door. Anything was better than looking at the kid. He could just see the guard at the end of the passageway. His fingers found the heavy iron hinges. They were bolted into the wall and seemed sturdy enough. Feeling around the edges the wall crumbled under his touch. He dug at the ancient concrete until he had loosed one of the hinges. Within a few feverish minutes Jazz had managed to dig the five of six bolts free of the wall, leaving just one to secure the door in place. The fifth made a bit too much noise as it came loose. Jazz heard the guard approaching and, suppressing a gag, pulled the kid back into the shadows.

“What the hell is going on in there?” the guard grumbled through the slit. Hearing no reply he mumbled under his breath and retreated to his post.

Jazz slid down the wall to his butt and sighed. Shouldn’t rush things too much, he thought. He was beat-tired and was bound to make a mistake, and that he couldn’t afford.