A man in black with a Groucho nose glass kit looks down at you.

The experiment is complete.  He won't remember a thing.  Thats soup.

 All these words appear on white placards he holds up so that you can read them. Problem is, they are in Mandarin, and you can't read Mandarin.  But you understand the words anyways.

You strive to listen, and then hear over an intercom, a carefully modulated voice...

"Please evacuate the spinward lobby." Followed by something in French, and then another language.  And then after running through five languages.  "This is your final warning. Decompression begins in thirty seconds."

PT

Tom has no idea where he is, or what the heck is going on but he is pretty darn sure he's in space and that he doesn't want to be in the lobby, so he's going to find an exit and find it fast.

He does a 3 second scan of the room for exits.

You open your eyes, and see two doors.  One is a large metal sliding door marked "Warning: Zero Pressure Outside."  The other, you sprint toward, and hit the big green button.

The door shoots open, and you step inside, and the door closes behind you.  An airlock folds itself back into the walls of the thinly carpetted corridor, no its grass actually, short and tough, but vibrantly green.

To your left you hear someone shout.  "Ok, that did it. We're wobbling now."  To your right you hear nothing.

PT

"Space Station" are the words that immediately appear in Tom's mind....and if they're venting the airlock...that means they attempting to alter the trajectory of the station....the fact that he feels grass means that he's in a biosphere of some kind, which means that the station tech is at least somewhat advacned....but the fact that they're venting AIR to alter the trajectory of the station means.....

Bad.  Very very bad.

In fact, that's so bad that he is fairly certain he doesn't just want to pop up and say, "HIYA FOLKS! I'm a traveler from another dimension that just randomly popped up on the station...which reminds me, that precious air you just got rid of? Well I'm sucking up MORE OF IT! AHAHAHAAH...so...what's for dinner?"

His natural instinct in a place like this would be to draw his gun....

Drawing a gun in a space station=Bad.

He draws his knife instead and hunkers down...and listens.

You wait for a couple minutes, hearing some more yells from the left.  Including one triumphant yell.

"I got him.  I got him.  That {garbled} freak is dead."

"The rumors of my demise have been greatly exzaggerated."  You hear a soft murmur to your right, and see a man in a skin-tight white suit with a large collar crouching next to you.  He has a metal, pen-like device pointed at your face.

"The thing is, I'm wondering who you are.  You're obviously not with the hijackers, but just as obviously you're not crew since you don't have space sunburn, and that leaves a passenger.  But I would think they would be looking for an escaped passenger.  So....."

He smiles at you engagingly, and for a fraction of a second you get a measure of the man.  Strong, very quiet to sneak up on you like that, and sharper than a sword blade, handsome too in an All-American blonde corn-fed farmer way.

PT

"Genetically Engineered" the analytical part of Tom's mind tells him as soon as he sees the guy. Sometimes that voice is annoying because it, like certain other parts of him, almost never turns 'off'.

Tom tries, as he so often does, as much truth as this guy is prepared to understand....

"Name is Tom Day.  I was raised in rather primitive conditions...we're talking Internal Combustion Engine here....last thing I remember is I was in a used book store and then I wake up in the airlock.  I've picked up a few things here and there, and I know this....if they're enthusiastic about venting air out the airlock it can't be good.....and I don't like hijackers in general, so you can pretty much assume I'm as on your side as anyone who never met you before can be...and please point that thing away from me and I'll do the same with my nice little monomolecular poisoned blade..."

Tom slowly pulls the knife back.

"Ok, Tom Day, I'm Commander Cool of the High Point QRT-1, and you're a mystery that can be solved later.  You're right, they vented the air to make the station harder for me to board.  Unfortunately, I was already on board by that time, and by the time they blew my shuttle up, I had recce this half of the perimeter.  You're doubly right because that makes the station unstable, and its in Leo, and triply right because that means not enough o2 for the hostages and them which confirms initial analysis.  They are not really hostages, but involuntary medical experiments."

He slips the pen into his sleeve on the inside of his wrist.

"Trouble, trouble, toil and bubble." He murmurs, and then looks back at you.  "Do you have moral, ethical, or personal objections to killing humans engaged in a Crime Against Humanity?"

PT

"COMMANDER COOL?!" The indignant portion of Tom's mind almost snorts with the amusement, but at some point someone is going to find his name just as goofy....but more importantly....the implications of what he's saying are immediately analyzed.......it entirely possible that his attempt at medition worked.

The implications of which are astounding....want Clairvoyance? You're sent to a world where you can learn it.

Want weird science and super heroes? You're sent to a world where they exist.  It is not perfect....because obviously he DIDN'T get clairvoyance in the last world....ie, simply reaching a destination was not a guarantee of success in and of itself....

But the most immediate and significant meaning of all this was more importantly...the Universe might not necessarily be trying to kill him again and again and again.....maybe.  At least there might be a corresponding benevlolent to its malevolent. It would require further observation.

"The answer to your question is.....No.  I must admit though....this is not a Monomolecular Edged Poisoned Knife...it's just a Knife.  I felt it would somewhat psychologically balance whatever potentially damaging thing you had pointed at me....Most immediate and important details...

What are the numbers and ideological agenda of the people we're facing, and what is the nature of their involuntary medical experiments?"

"Its an evaporative dart projector.  It was set to put you in a coma for a week.  I can reset it for stopping your heart of course."

He stands up.

Waves his hand, and a holographic blueprint springs up in front of you where he waved his hand.

Its the station.

"Less than ten, more than four hijackers.  They claim to be motivated by money. We believe they are conducting First Stage Ascension experiments.  You may not know, but not only is the customized Ascension recipe very expensive, but its got a high risk factor too.  You can lower this risk by testing it on people who are biologically similiar to you, and then using some of their test data to modify it more precisely for yourself.  This of course, kills the test subject since its not customized to him."

PT

"Wild Card Virus" the ever analytical portion churned out.....

"Right.  What is the precise vector used for the First Ascension experiment? Is it an injection, inhalant or is it something that requires a power source? If it does, I think if we shut down the ship's power core we could potentially stop them..or at least shut down the flow of power to the room.  Next question...I've got a slug thrower....how tough is the material of this station made of? Can I use it without fear of blowing a hole in the station? What are hijackers armed with?"

"Its all of the above, and in various combinations.  Usually, its something that takes weeks to go through, but when you're engaging in this type of destructive research, thats not so necessary."

He listens for a second.

"I've heard six voices so far.  Not sure if one is a passenger or a hijacker.  I'd say they have to be lightly armed so as to dodge the security traps, and they would require moderate stun devices, pain injectors, and a few lethal weapons as well.  Its the best mix for controlling a crowd."

"I like your idea, an dyou won't hull the station, and if you do, self-sealers will fix it.  But you might rip open a pipe in a wall with toxins."

He points at the map, and you see a line appear on it.

"The Main Power Link to the Power Sats. Take it out but first insert a virus to tell the Backups not to come on."

PT

Once he is told he won't hull the station, he takes out his gun and removed the safety lock, "What exactly do you mean by Security Traps? That doesn't sound good.    I don't suppose you have a virus lying around that we could use to insert to prevent it from coming back on?"

"I do, but its less certain that it would work since its not the latest upgrade.  You could try to enter the security center first.  Also, its your basic tradeoff between speed and certainty.  Hit the SC, and you heighten the chance of getting the other done, but you give the bad guys more time to do their dirty deeds.  On the other hand, you can break your way through any security traps you meet, if you can't evade them."

He looks into the distance.

"I'm going to have to start moving in 49 seconds."  He says calmly.

PT

Tom thinks about it for a split second, "Give me the map to the SC.  Normally, I would want to give them as little time to work as possible, but in this case sure is better.  Certain is more intelligent than risking their lives.....that's what my instinct says to do anyway."

Tom thinks this whole situation is insane....going around avoiding security traps in a high tech facility is like an aboriginal trying to break into Norad.....but hey....its worth a shot.

If he gets a map, he takes off running toward the area he's supposed to disable.

"Either way, we risk their lives.  In a finite universe, no strategy is perfect, and the only certainty is that entropy wins."  He says the last like its some sort of cliche' or proverb that everyone knows.

You sprint off, dodging down the corridor, and then going left into a very brightly lit small room. Once there you slide down a ladder, and then take a second to spot the right door out of four, and you rush through it.

And foam gushes from the walls, filling the air of the narrow hallway.  There's a door ahead about fifteen feet, and another behind you, about five feet. Both are closing.

PT

Tom's brain immediately goes into reptile mode.  He might not be afraid of death on a concious level, but he still is on an unconcious one.  More importantly, if he is caught, being subjected to torture and horrible medical experiments is at the bottom of his list of things he wants to do.

He takes a lesson from baseball and runs and SLIIIIIIIIIIIIIIDES back outta there (the way he came) and takes door number ....3......

You slide out of there on your belly, and into the previous room.  Once standing, you see the bits of foam still sticking to you have hardened.  They break off, at least the major ones that are in the way, the great glop on your right leg is the worst, and the rest just makes you look like you had been through a car wash without the rinse cycle.

Going down three, you find a ramp, and then a door which is locked, and an archway to the right, and a long switchback ramp that has you running seventy feet to climb ten feet.  And then you're back on course with a couple minutes wasted.

Another rush down the path, through an arch, across a food court with a dozen stores which has a dazzling view of Mother Earth out through gigantic glass windows, and you're supposed to go out the Mexican restauraunt door into the back...but all the signs on the restauraunts have been thoroughly trashed in what looks like pointless vandalism to you.

The floor is covered in shredded signs.

PT

A mexican restaurant will have two or three pressure cookers that are dedicated explicitely to making Refried Beans.  Even in the even that all of these extremely heavy and unwieldy peices of equipment were tossed out in the acts of vandalism, unless said vandalism consisted of entering each restaurant and cleaning the kitchen with a pressure hose, the smell will tell.  Courtesty of working at the Bell.

Tom follows his nose and looks for said pressure cookers in the kitchens and use his sense of smell as much as he can.

You find it quickly, and go down the hatch at the back entrance, and through a narrow crawlway.  At the end of the twenty foot stretch, you see a narrow hall, similiar to the one in which you were foamed.  It leads straight to a glass door that says "Security Center" on the door.

This hall is ten feet long.

PT
OOC: When I worked at the Bell, we used, if I remember right, giant cans of refried beans, and had to stir them in huge rectangular pots with this metal doo-hickey about 18 inches long.  Good work for developing muscles--the girls usually did not have to do it as they weren't strong enough.  Heh, I almost wasn't strong enough.  Swishing around twenty pounds of cold, glutinous beans was about the worst job in the shop.

Let me be...cautious in asking this....were the directions I was given to find the security center explicitly clear that this is where I should find it, or was I expecting it to be farther down the corridor?  This is obviously a trap, the only question is what KIND of trap it is...obviously people have to be able to get down the stupid corridor.

OOC: Not us.  Maybe they changed their policy, but we basically took normal beans and put them in this ....THING...that was big and bulky and metal and which crushed and cooked them.

This looks like the corridor.  And yes, you're pretty sure its a trap.  And yes, your logic seems sound--there does have to be a way for normal people to use it easily.

This probably, but not conclusively, means that the keypad next to the security door has some sort of 'you goofed--now you're in trouble' function OR some sort of biometric scan.  Or both.

PT

No time for this.  I wasn't given a key code.

I shoot the glass door with the gun.

The door cracks with the first shot, and foam starts to fill the corridor rapidly.  Another shot and the foam is knee-high, and the door shatters.  A leaping dive carries you over most of the foam.  You crash land in the security center with the gun jarred from your hand to spin, and bounce on the wall.

You hold your breath hoping that it doesn't accidentally fire, which is unlikely, but possible.

Nothing.  It settles to a stop, and tries to pretend to be an innocent item.

The foam is pushing into the room behind you.

PT

Right, time is limited, so I'm going to A) Get on any kind of a chair they have...

B)Look for any kind of 'Disarm traps' button...if there isn't one, or a keyboard for computer input....

C) Randomly push buttons and hope I don't die.

You scramble up onto a stool, and are startled when you feel a bump on your back. Looking over your left shoulder you see the chair now has a nicely supportive back to it.

There is a keyboard for computer input.

And flashing on a screeen is a message:

"Type: AEGGCLLLN:(*&(0===235====
This is the password. You need to enter it there since the code requires an electric connection of the keyboard to be valid.
--Your 'pen' pal"


PT
OOC: In Oak's universe, they have Command Line Interface, and here they have Keyboards because they work better for experts than GUI and voice command. I think.

Good password.

Day enters the information that is sent to him.  The more paranoid part of his mind tells him that this guy could be the bad guy and that he has no way of knowing if he is not inadvertently helping with something evil instead, but logic dictates at least a 50%-50% either way, and if he is right then time is of the essence...if he is wrong....well....he'll cross that bridge when he comes to it.

OOC: Makes sense. :)

A flash of red light fills the Security Center.

"Do you wish to diable security systems?" A coolly stern female voice asks from the air.

Not sure what to say you just say "Yes."

"Disabled."

The flow of foam into the room, which has covered the floor even under your chair halts.  Then you visibly see the foam harden, in seconds.

Now your map is displaying the route to the Main Power Link.

PT

Funfunfun.  First Tom tries to retrieve his gun, then he shoots the keyboard to prevent any easy reversal of the system.  That might be a bad idea....but it might not.  He moves towards the power link.

You have to dig the firearm out of the foam which has turned hard like dirt.

Once you get it, its covered with foam on the outside.

What do you do?

PT

Right.  Scratch one ruined firearm.

Keyboards get messy.  If they go old school then they have to have some way of cleaning the keys.  Tom doesn't have time to take them all but use the knife to take out the number keys and take them with me and put those in my pocket.

Tom takes the knife and has it in hand as he heads for the Power outlet.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:39, Wed 07 June 2006.

You trash the keyboard, and run across the hardened foam, and turn right.  From there its down, and down, and across twenty feet, and down a ladder again.  The walls seem to be closing in.

Soon, you're just climbing straight down a ladder going through multiple floors.  From looking at the map, it seems the space station is shaped like an old-fashioned top, and you're descending down the inside of the spike which would touch the ground.

You hear something ahead of you, movement, two stories down where the ladder bottoms out, but you can't see a hijacker waiting for you.  Of course there are walls down there to hide behind.

PT

Right, well there are two ways of handling this....could be a hijacker, could be Commander Nifty.....they might be waiting in ambush or they might be totally oblivious of me...BUT...they can hide from Tom and Tom can't hide from them, which means one way or the other the time has come for direct and slightly deranged action....

Anyone who has spent time on a navy ship (which Tom hasn't) knows that there is a certain skill to gripping the sides of a ladder and sliding down with it...it involves placing both feet on either side and then moving the hands to the side to slide with it so that they are outside of the clinging rungs....Fortuantely, Tom has used this before, but only occasionally (since he's big and it can often hurts when he gets to the bottom)....

Given a complete lack of gun....pain is a risk he'll have to take.  Taking the knife and putting it in his mouth pirate style (edge out) he slides down the last twenty feet of the ladder at breakneck speed.

You drop down the ladder, trying to control your slide from a controlled fall into something smoother.  It sort-of works.  Your hands burn, and Thump!

The jolt upsets your stomach, and jars your ankles.

And then the knife is in your hand, and you focus on your enemy.

Meow.

The tiger-striped house cat looks over at you from five feet away, and then pads over to you, and starts winding itself between your legs.

Meow.

You are standing outside the glass door labelled the "Power Link Control Center".

PT

Tom is somewhat relieved, nor hostile to the housecat.  He even smiles to himself, but he doesn't consider it harmless either.  To begin with, cats, even normal cats, are hardly harmless.  Mainly though, if you have genetically engineered people you can certainly have geneticly engineered cats.  However, it did seem friendly, so Tom decided to address it as such and whispered, "Gonna cut the power line to save those hostages..."

While he is keeping an eye on the cat, he isn't exactly letting it distract him THAT Much.

Problem: He can't shoot the gun to get into the Power Link Control Center anymore....

Solution: Guns make excellent clubs, which he proceeds to use to break the glass apart to get inside (assuming he can't just open the door the normal way).

The cat accepts your explanation with a serious look, and steps aside to let you do your work.  It could be normal feline behaviour, but you still feel the goosebumps rise on the back of your arms.

Putting that aside, you begin pounding the glass.  The first gets a small star. The second a large one. And by the fourth suddenly the whole thing shatters at once into small little circles and and semi-triangular shapes with rounded edges.

You step through the door, and begin to flip off the power link.  Its fairly straight forward.  You pull a few levers, a voice asks you if you're sure you want to do that, and the lights dim.

"Station is now on battery power."  The voice says.

PT

Any easy looking way for him to sabotage this area.

He'll ask, "How long will battery power last?"
This message was last edited by the player at 01:17, Mon 12 June 2006.

You start bashing keyboards, tipping over monitors.

"Ten hours."

And then all the monitors that are left flash with a message.

"Well done. I've disabled five of the hijackers, and as per my plan, driven two of them down the shaft toward you.  They have one hostage. They plan to utilize the space to ground transport attached to your spindle point outside.  I'm going to be following them closely which will draw their attention to me.  They don't know you're on board.  I've convinced them, I think, that my viruses took down the power. I will attempt to follow your lead in this situation. Unfortunately, while I can transmit on this frequency, I cannot receive due to a security measure."

PT

Please note: The sabotage is to be the kind that can be theoretically reversed by Tom....ie....popping out numbers from keyboard, particularly the enter key, is something that can be reinserted and undone if he so chooses....smashing keyboards and monitors is not.

Tom checks the map to see where they are headed to.  He will also check to see if there is an arsenal or something along the way because facing both of these guys with a knife is not going to happen.

However....he does have one potential edge.

He opens the door and heads towards the ladder, "Hey kitty.  Appearantly there is a plan to stop said hijackers by boarding a nearby ship...how do I put this....I've got a knife...you've got 20.  Any help you care to lend would be appreciated."

Tom heads towards the area they seem to be headed toward and hides.  He has the knife out but will attempt to clean out the inside of the gun if he can.

Noted.

They are headed down the long shaft toward you at the base of the spindle.  There are no armories in the path, the only one being in the Security Center, which means it cannot be much of one.

You step out the door, and walk along thirty the outer wall walkway to a hatch. On the other side of this hatch is an airlock, and then a ground to space transport plane.

The kitty has given you a serious look, and is following along with you.

You can hear some distorted yelling at the top of the ladder about seventy feet above the Power Control room.

PT

You know...He's seen far too many of these things where the bad guy takes out the hero and gets away.  He's going to examine the space transport plane QUIETLY, and see if there is anything that is easily removable or replaceable that He can do that will screw up the plane he's going to remove that and hide next to the door with the knife.

Then he'll wait by the door.  If he can, when he sees one with a weapon pointed at a hostage, he'll try and take that one out, knife to the throat.  Note: Knife is held down, fang like so as to make it more effective.

You remove the joysticks on the pilot's and co-pilot's side, and stash them in a crevice aboard the station.  Once done, you examine your work.

Yes, that will make it very hard to fly this thing you decide with satisfaction.

They come through the door, both tall men, and a woman hostage struggling to stand upright in the left hand of the leader.  In his right hand, he has some sort of pistol.

The other man carries a foot long stick that sings faintly in a note that grates on your ears. Its held near the hostage's face, and she winces from it.

Beyond them you can hear Commander Cool taunting them.

"You stupid little war criminals, you know what they say, one problem, one superhero."

You raise your knife to stab the 'club' wielder, and stab it down into his neck.  It doesn't cut the juggler.  But he begins to fall with blood spurting up your hand.

The woman screams with the smell of fried bacon.  A whirring noise.

You see Commander Cool drop in front of them, and invite a shot from the gunner.  The club-wielder brings his club awkwardly back over and grazes your leg.  Black spots appear in your vision, and you find yourself screaming as your body feels on fire.

PT

Welcome to the new Dimension of Pain...no not the Sluggy version, but the dimension whereeverthing @#$@#$ HURTS! What, no snazzy analogy of metaphoric imagery? Guess the saying, 'What doesn't kill you makes you stronger' applies...or it means you're NOT DEAD YOU IDIOT SO DO SOMETHING MORE PRODUCTIVE BESIDES WALLOW THERE IN PAIN! Oh...nice job with the woman too....she's probably scarred for life if she isn't dead....Brilliant.

Tom is not in the mood to argue with himself, but the urge to survive is strong, though he can't immediately see, he rolls around on the floor to the left or right, attempting to grab any cylindrical things he feels along the way.

You flail about on the floor, and your hand comes up with some cylindrical object.  You grab it even as the nerves in your arm scream in rebellion at your cruelty to them.  And then you bring it down on your foe, several times.

Things get hazy, and you find yourself wondering why you feel strange.

You're looking up into Commander Cool's face.

"Come on buddy, breathe."  He hits something with a thunking sound like someone stomping on wooden bleachers.  "We won. I owe you a free drink of your choice, but I can't pay up if you die on me."

And then you feel something inside you go ka-clunk.  And suddenly air roars down into your lungs.  And you're panting, but in a couple minutes you feel good enough to sit up.

The woman is also sitting up.  She's got a serious burn on her shoulder.  Looks like someone took a blowtorch to her.

She's sees you looking at her, and gives you a crooked smile obviously higher than a kite.

"Trust me, pal, your leg looks worse."  She giggles.

PT

Tom blinks, "Well, that was a wonderful experience.  Remind me never to repeat it.  Sadly, I cannot expressed to you enough my extreme certainty that I will be mauled and mangled an infinite number of times in the years to come, but that's another story...it will wait until that drink.  Which reminds me, in case I get blown away before we finish, I hid the keys to the keyboard and the joystick in a crevice over yonder....you'll possibly need them to restore power to the station....now.....how many more of le goons do we have to do deal with? Where are they? Oh...and thanks for the stim....much much better. Much better."

The woman rocks back laughing, and Commander Cool squats next to you and chuckles as well.

"No, we won. Got them all. Hostages are freed.  As soon as the rescue shuttle comes up in about thirty minutes, we'll get you some better med care than my emergency kit has."

He looks into your eye and smiles faintly.  He continues to talk to the both of you.

"Yup, you're not feeling any pain.  If you start to, tell me.  Because believe me, your body hated that fire club.  Just remind me to never make you mad.  You grabbed that club even as it evaporated the skin and muscles off your fingers, and pounded him into jelly.  I thought I was going to lose you there for a minute.  Fire clubs are nasty weapons, using them is a war crime, since they are designed to cause enough pain to force the body to shut down."

PT

"Really?" Tom tried to ignore the part of his mind that was filing that information away for potential future use.  He succeeded.  Walking around with weapons designated that illegal would not be tolerated in polite society, so bringing it with him was unlikely.

"Well, let's just say I'm not a big fan of War criminals.  Now if you don't mind my asking....what is the name of this station, and what is the status of the other hostages? Any of them die? Did you find out who was bankrolling this thing or were they independent idiots?"

"Me neither, Tom.  Hostages are all alive.  As soon as you turned off the power, you caused their auto-defenses to go into reset, and I plunged in there, and was able to deal with the hijackers except these two who retreated down the spindle shaft.  Fear not, Tom, I really am as good at this as I look."

He laughs, and gives you a heroic pose with his huge jaw sticking out.

"O'Neill Station in Geosynch Orbit over Africa.  And I haven't gotten around to questioning the hijackers yet, although I don't doubt they will claim to have been independent. Unfortunately, without a court order, or dire present need, I can't break into their minds with a pharmacopiea."

PT

"Really? I read this comic book.  Well, call me Dr. Doom.  And what I mean by that is this...odds are, there is no me here, which is to say, I do not exist in any known database.  Therefore, I calling myself the Republic of Tom Dayistan.  As an official representative of the Repulic of Tom Dayistan, I am asking you, Commander Cool, to offer me this pharmicopiea as a good will gesture at imminent and impending relations between our two countries.  Furthermore, as is our custom, we would request that you give us instructions in its use and blithely leave the room for two to three minutes for no particular reason whatsoever."

Commander Cool looks at you thoughtfully.

"If you are wrong, and you are a citizen, then you'll be breaking felony laws.  Also, if you declare yourself sovereign, then representatives of foreign powers may kill you after sending you a notarized note declaring war on you.  This would be completely legal.  It is my understanding that there are about two hundred 'independents' in the Solar System, most of them in the Asteroid Belt."

He pauses to let you think.

And then he hands a small soft-sided case to you, and at the last second pulls it back.

"Instructions are inside.  Very simple.  However, are you sure you want to do this?"

PT

"Well yes and no.  Death doesn't mean quite the same thing to me anymore that it used to.  That's one of the things I was going to tell you about later, but I mean....the people that these guys work for is scum.  I am a cosmic ping pong ball.  When I die, I end up alive somewhere else.  I go from world to world.  It is entirely possible that there is a *ME* here, but its pretty unlikely, and even if there is....I'm willing to take the risk.  Don't get me wrong.  I don't want to die.  I've got things I hope to accomplish in this world...specifically, this might seem like a weird question, but there is a specific type of device I need....and the kind of person who could make it, if they don't already have it, is going to be a brilliant scientist type.  My goal is to get home.  I've got loose ends that need to be tied up, then I can 'fight the good fight' or whatever the universe wants me to do, but I'm stupid enough to not let evil get away with stuff along the way...

And I know the formula too well....if these guys sent to jail, they are likely to get sprung or killed before they talk...now it MIGHT be different in this world, but I doubt it....so yes, I'm willing to take the risk."

He hands you the pharmacopeia.

"My team leader, Solar Knight, is pretty smart even for an Ascended, and Dr. Brain is flat-out brilliant if you can understand him.  Half the time we think he's the next stage in superhumanity, and the other half of the time we think he's plain crackers."

He leaves the room, but pauses before exiting to go fix your sabotage.

"Good luck. Its been a pleasure."

The pharm opens up in your hands, and you follow the clear instructions.  First you wake the surviving man, and then you inject him with happy juice.

He stares warily at you, but then suddenly smiles.  And then he regains control for a second.

"You can't do, he-he, ha-ha, this! Hah."

PT

"Funny, that's what the people who you conducted experiments on probably said.  Rule number one to existance chum, there is always someone out there bigger and badder than you are...I realize that...hell, I already met him....but in this case, you just met someone who isn't going to play by the normal rules...see I'm a good guy, or at least I try to be, but I've already died...which means this is the afterlife for me...that puts things in a whole different perspective about what is 'good' or 'evil'......which means chum that I'm using carrot and stick here.....you WILL tell me what I want to know or it won't just be the pharmocopia that I'm going to use to get the information out of you...so.....who were working for? Who was ultimately to benefit from your ascension experiments?"

"Dude, there isn't any afterlife.  We just die, and thats it. Nothing more. So, you're like, ha-ha,he, totally nuts.  Good and evil are just tricks by the elite to play on the stupid. Con games.  And my boss will kill you crazy man.  Me, worst case, I get my head stuck in a freezerbox, and then after the Singularity I come back from the Cold, and get a brand new super body, and a place of honor in the New World run by the smart people.  No crazies like you allowed."

He giggles to himself, muttering insulting phrases into his lip about your intelligence.

PT

"Attention idiot.  It should be understood that you need a clear understanding of who it is you are talking to.  I am the voice of God. Don't believe in him? How do you think I got on this station? Magic? I didn't come here with Captain Cool, I came up here because I am the right person to open your head like a ripe melon.  I don't mean with crude tools, I mean merely with words.

Allow me to explain a bit more about how this kind of drug works.  Your being consists of three components...a mind, a body and a soul.  Ignore the soul for now, because it is clear you don't believe in it.  That's fine.  For our purposes, that is entirely unnecessary.

I am a writer.  Words are my weapons.  I have a degree in molecular biology and have conducted extensive studies into the nature of memetics and the mind.  The universe could have sent a fighter, or a lover, or a detective....any of whom could have been more qualified than me to fight you like Commander Cool but none of them would be able to inflict what I am about to inflict upon you.

Inside your mind is a tiny doorman, like a club, where all the fancy people hang out.  This door man is the person who is you. The "I".  He decides what to let in and what to let out.  He decides what to let in when I tell you, 'I believe in God' so that doorman says, "No way man...that's for idiots."  This doorman also keeps stuff from getting out that you don't want people to hear.  He is the stupid part of you that thinks he can stall me to keep from telling me what your boss doesn't want me to know, and he is the person who keeps you from saying to your boss when that hot babe comes in and is attracted to him, "Hey boss she's hot, can I bang her?"...this is a basic survival tool.

The drug that they have placed into your system has made this doorman woozy.  He's been bribed.  Someone slipped him some money with a little booze so he's not so smart right now.  Now, the average cop would simply ask you questions....the smarter interegator would come up with creative ways to get around your natural inhibitions and concerns by saying something like, "But see, we're friends I'm not really here to interogate you, I'm here to get the information you know to ensure your loyalty to the boss so you'll know what not to say..."

But like the lady said....granted she said it while you were unconcious, but it still holds true, I'm quite frankly a vicious bastard......and I'm a lot more creative than those interogators..." He holds out his hand, "I got that doorman in my hand right here dopey.....I've got your doorman in my hand....guess who else I have in my hand...."

He reaches to the other ear and pulls it back,"This is the little man deep inside you who lets you faint when the pain is too much.  His whole job is to say, 'whooaaaaaaa dude, that will cause us brain damage....' but I've got him in my other hand.....So...anyway....

I said Carrot and Stick right?

Well, see you've got two halves of your brain.  One half is analytical and logical....the part that does things like math.

I've got your doorman stupid so you can't not answer...I have to say it and it goes inside your head and you can't not do it...

So how is this? Ever see one of those guys in the gym exercising a part of their body they never used before or haven't used in a long time?

A train is going south from Toledo at 40 miles an hour, another train is going west from Kansas at 50 miles an hour...if the first train is moving at 40 miles per hour at a 30 degree angle to the second train, how long will it be before they get 240 miles away from their original destination?

Now...part of your head HAS to do that math problem...now for the other half of your brain....

When I say that inside you are all the memories and peices and moments of who you were...and I say that there is a you that is five years old...innocent and freightened and mostly pure....and there is the animal in you...the guy who makes what you did to those prisoners look tame...you know the guy I'm talking about....the vicious killer...the one who knows everything you were ever afraid of...everything you've done to other people....and he's doing it to you...you're feeling it Schmoe....you're feeling it right now....what horrific things is he doing to that poor frieghtened little boy inside your mind.....

Is he torturing you?

When does the train arrive?

Are there snakes?

How many degrees has the train moved in the triangle?

Now.....Mr. Doorman...." He looks into his hand, "You're not just going to tell me what I want to know...you're going to tell it to me like I was your best friend, because I'm the only one who can make it stop.....and you do want it to stop....don't you?"

For a while he stares at you like in a trance, but then that starts to turn to horror, and by about the time you mention your hands, he is pulling himself back away from you.  Scooting inch by inch backward as you crowd him closer and closer.

By the time it ends, he's whimpering.

OOC: 2@1 Persuasion on your character sheet.  Its an attribute.  It means you're the most persuasive individual in a random group of fifty.  I'm tempted to rank you higher.

IC:  "OKay, okay, I'll, I'll, I''ll" pant, pant..."Wasp99 is our control.  He's on the Lean Forward password protected micronet, nearly every day.  I think he's pretty high up in LF, and uh, I think he's at least part of the time in the Northeast of the US.  One time, he mentioned a trip to Hong Kong by hyperjet.  He pays good, had good intel for the mission."

He looks ill for a second,a dn then brightens.

"He wanted us to hit this group particular.  Made sure that Kyle Winton and Joe Marsden were on the flight, I mean, he wanted us to make sure they were.  Otherwise, we was supposed to abort the op."

PT

OOC: Kewl :)

IC: "Tell me everything you know about Kyle Winton and Joe Marsden." He gives him a chance to answer, but doesn't expect much of a meaningful response.  These guys rarely know much of any particular use except bits and peices but who knew?

Tom says, "I think you should be grateful I believe in a soul, because if I didn't value your free will, I could turn you into something to either serve or amuse me with relative ease.  Get a better doorman.  The right kind cannot be bought at any  price, and with a reasonably honorable code of ethics, it could have taken me a lot longer.  I will release you now from your torment save one thing....a meme is a living thought or idea...we should be grateful we forget things, because pain is something that would drive us mad if it did not fade from out minds....but I am putting a meme inside your mind...it will not force you to relive the pain, but every morning upon waking, you will remember, beyond doubt that I had the power to destroy your mind and didn't.  Not because I am inferior or weak, but because I believe you deserve a choice of good or evil.  Never have the slightest doubt that I could crush you or twist you into any form I wished.  Normal post hypnotic suggestions disappate after only three days.....but most people don't know how to rebuild your mind like I do.........remember......You are released. Sleep fool."

After listening to him for a few minutes, its obvious the two targets are the same sort of men. Tall, skinny, hyper-energetic, Type A personalities of a Caucasian background, and more specifically both are Irish.  They are not related, but they both have the same general way about them.

You see terror in his eyes, before he falls into a troubled sleep.

Commander Cool slips into the room.

"I really, really don't want to make you mad."  He says softly with a small smile.  "Ten more minutes, and the rescue shuttle from Earth will be here.  My boss, Solar Knight, is wondering if you want to wait another half hour for the shuttle that is coming to pick me up to go back to my home station, and meet the Freedom Force.  We do have medical facilities at Freedom One that can handle that wound."

PT

Day chuckles, "Well, in the unique circumstances where I have the right tools for the job, sure you should be afraid of me, but realistically here, I don't have any sort of super powers to speak of....over time I'll pick up a few cosmic cards here and there, but it just happened that Captain Thugly overhere didn't know what he was messing with.   I am more than willing to go with you since I now have a big target on my forehead that says, 'Kill me now'...which reminds me...I 'found' a er....slip of paper....er...in his pocket...with some information on it."  Tom gives Cap. the info he learned from the interogation, "Unfortunately he accidently ate the peice of paper and injected this interogation pharmecuitical before I could stop him from harming himself."

In a few minutes, the rescue shuttle arrives, and EMT's and a doctor pour into the area, and start checking people out.  As they look over you, the lead EMT talks to his back of the forearm digital assistant.

"Genetype for a new hand. Right. Soralgen induction of 300cc's.  Spinal tap pain block introduce.  Plastiskin 20 square inches."  He pauses, and looks at you. "Sir, are you going to need some form of pschyological counselling or anti-depressant?"

Meanwhile you see and hear the neighbouring EMT putting the clubwielder into a bag.

"No rush." He says to someone passing. "Not even enough for a cryocan to ressurect. All chemical information decayed."

The person shrugs, glances at you, and walks on.  They want to take you with them, but Cool overrides that.

Later, you're climbing on Commander Cool's shuttle.  And another EMT tells you much the same thing as the first.  Except this EMT is heart-breakingly beautiful with auburn hair, and a red suit and goes by the name of Miss Flare.

PT

"Thank you miss Flare, but I think that the world occasionally takes the wrong step with technology.  Anti-depressants and pyschological counciling are all  well and good, but honestly, sometimes too much can be just as much of a problem, but thank you very much.  That, and honestly, the things that haunt me cannot be covered by anything you can fix.  Any healing of the wound is appreciated though.
"

Oh, and if Miss Flare is wanting him to go with her and NOT on Commander Cool's shuttle, he is expecting her to shoot him with something involving pyrokinesis....meaning he'll avoid her like the plague.

"All right. That doesn't sound like Technophobia, but more like Reasonable Caution."  She says the words like they are pschyological syndromes or something.

"We do have a fair amount of Technophobes. The Amish are gaining 5% every year.  A lot of people just can't, or don't want to keep up."

Miss Flare and Commander Cool are on the same team.  So you go on the shuttle with them as a group, and she patches you up as the shuttle shifts orbit.  Ninety minutes later, you're docking at their superbase, Freedom One.

PT

The current trend in psychology is to map more and more portions of the brain, to the point that certain aspects of Tom's behavior could easily be mapped as, "Random Behavior Because You're Trying to Label Me, That I Make Stick So You Don't Label It."  Why not something like "Reasonable Caution."

Finding out that Ms. Flare is not a psychotic is a wonderful thing and he will be far more relaxed, though not necessarily flirtatious around her.  Upon arrival at the base, he will politely allow the others to make introductions, particularly to their leader Solar Knight, though if not introduced initially, he will ask about being able to see Dr. Brain.

The shuttle connects to the exterior hatch of the Freedom One, and you are carried off down several spiral corridors, and then floated down a tube in the zero-gravity.

Once there, you are ushered into a large room, and 'glued' to a bed.

Miss Flare starts machines working, with Commander Cool helping her.  She seems to be responding to suggestions which you can't here.

Solar Knight walks in.  He's a skinny, short fellow which after meeting Cool and Flare you would not have expected.  But despite his seemingly average looks, there is something very appealing about them and his manner.  A kind of downhome-ness, almost.

You can tell because he has a t-shirt with the words 'Solar Knight' embroidered over his heart.

"Welcome to Freedom One. I've heard you want to meet Dr. Brain.  Right now, he's on the Moon trying to decipher the twisted logic of a life support net that has been logic bombed. He should be back in a day or two. Or you can use the laser com to talk to him with a lag of about three seconds."

PT

"Tempting, but given the people that want to see me dead at the moment, I think I'd rather not let them know what I'm looking into.  That, and quite frankly, beggars can't be choosers and there is something I greatly want to ask his help with, but it will wait.  More or less.  However, if you have a net terminal that I could access, I would greatly appreciate it."

"Not to be too immodest, but right now, you're in one of the safest places in the Solar System.  Even for those few who could breach our defenses, well they are not likely to want to risk the blowback when we come after them in turn.  I do keep a decent amount of resouces in reserve for such a contingency, but our primary shield is that we are the largest openly acknowledged collection of superhumans in the Solar System."

Solar Knight says with some pride.

"Plus, its not like we are sitting on Fort Knox here anyways.  Reputation and the free exercise of talents makes something valuable.  Not mere crude matter." Miss Flare says with a hard look at you.

"The gentleman is from outside the universe. Perhaps in other universes they do things differently.  So learn a bit before you go accusing him of idolatry of matter, Miss." Commander Cool says.

For a moment, the air in the room sings as three very strong-willed people stare coldly at each other, communicating....

PT

"Thank you Solar Knight for your assurances. I think in any conventional terms, I am as safe here as I am anywhere.....but honestly? I can't stay here forever....Well, first things first.  If you're telepaths, you're right that I've got a neat trick for earning money from world to world, but I learned my lesson last time and figured I'd harness it mostly for good instead....just a minor fund on the side to take care of myself if I reappear here....no, the fact of the matter is that what I'm going to as Dr. Brain to be researching is nothing less than the key to other worlds.  I have about as much desire to bounce around randomly in the universe as I do to eat glass, which I may end up doing someday but that's something else entirely.  I suspect, call it a hunch, that I'm meant to go from place to place...I do know I have some limited control on where I go, but the occasional ability to return places, even if is hard to do, in invaluable, because I assure you, someone is always trying to break the rules, and I'd rather be the one doing the breaking.  Why does evil usually have the upper hand? Its because they act, rather than react....it isn't, contrary, to popular belief, because Good is stupid.

And as for what makes something valuable Miss Flare.....'random dabs of paint on a thin sheet of paper' can be as valuable to the constitution, and to the Republic for which it stands, to the Mona Lisa.  The value of a thing is in its perecieved value....so Reputation and Talents are part of that, but value is also in the value that people put into it.  Furthermore, while I am quite certain that things ARE different here, I am also quite certain it was more than coincidence that put me on that station....

In most ways I'm just like the other joe schmoe norms on this world...but sooner or later death will come for me here....I am convinced of it.  The good news is that I no longer believe the universe hates me....but that doesn't mean it won't get around to sending something to kill me...which in some ways makes me a great big trouble magnet.  I think you guys are like that, whether or not you know it....there are laws that change from place to place, but some stay the same....though I need to learn more about this place, ergo my desire to see the Internet.  I need to learn about ascension and just what it means....not sure why....call it a hunch."

"We have one telepath, Lady Look. And being able to learn from experience is most valuable.  I think, off-hand, that you are going to fascinate Dr. Brain, but keep in mind that we do need him for other projects as well."  Solar Knight replies, and then adds.

"We try to be active in a strategic sense, and reactive tactically.  Our mission is to foster trust, so that decent people will be able to co-operate to out-match the evil."

He waves his hands, and dozens of equations appear holographically in the air.

"My doctoral theses in societal transformation."

=================================

"I apologize, I thought you were the sort of person who thought gold bricks were valuable in and of themselves, and the only real value.  I'm a bit sensitive about this, some past experiences I haven't yet worked through."  Miss Flare says.

=================================

Commander Cool laughs, and he and SK point out a three lines of the equations which suddenly glow red against the cool blue of the other equations.

"Oh, yes. we're trouble magnets. Deliberately so."

And then they get you your Net access.

PT

To Solar Knight: "Well, I do try to be fascinating" Tom smiles, "And I do understand that he is going to be very much in demand.  The truth of the matter is that I'm quite sure this process will take a lot of time and quite possibly many worlds, but I intend to start on it and slowly go from there.  Thank you, I appreciate it a great deal.

Tom examines the psychomathematical equations with incredible interest, "I don't suppose you'd mind if I copied those and that thesis into my computer would you? This could improve a great many societies in other worlds."

To Miss Flare, "I completely appreciate your perspective.  The man who thinks he will win by aquiring the most gold will quickly find himself on a mountain of it with nothing to spend it on and no one to spend it for.  Midas was a valuable lesson."

To CC: "Interesting....so you've actually quantified the effect of the individual on the greater whole.  This is utterly fascinating.  I'm sure you do realize it, but the potential ramifications of this are almost as staggering as the knowledge that I could direct, even slightly, where I might end up when I travel from world to world....I definately need to learn more of this formula...does it have a name? I'd use Psychomathematics but would prefer to use your word for it."

Net Access:

Order of Priority:

1)Find a GOOD law firm this time, the kind that is highly compotent but helps the little guy...someone who can help me set up my citizenship here as well as set up a charity involving the music with a minor trust fund for myself on theh side.

2)Look up thumbnail history of the world.

3)I already pretty much have an idea, but look up the basic history of Freedom Force and Lean Forward.

4)Do a google search on those two irish guys that LF was particularly interested in.

Cool and Flare giggle at your first request while Knight looks at them with a small frown.

"Now you have made a friend forever." Commander Cool says as Solar Knight wiggles his fingers, and with his other hand mimes shooting his friends.

"When you turn on your computer, just ask for the data to be downloaded to it."
Solar Knight says.

Cool says.  "Well, its not the individual, but people in positions of leadership.  And ..."

"This data set is optimized for our society, but much might be useful to others.  Stochastic Societal Structural Analysis is the official name. We call it Sky."

================================================================================

You contact one firm that has a very good reputation for both competence and helping the less fortunate.  They ask if you need secure meeting, or are able to work online.

Its close to your world but the year 2100. A few differences, such as Patrick Buchanan beat out the senior Bush for the Presidency, but Buchanan's presidency is widely considered a failure, and it was a single term.

By 2023, the force of international law had become paramount, able even to block the US's efforts to take independent military action.

By 2025, the first human brain sized computer is online.  By 2035, wristwatches are sold that under the ad slogan, "one brain, one watch."

Considerable amounts of terrorism occur, but most is limited to the smaller cities as the larger cities have effective but very expensive defenses.  Later, the cost of these defenses rises as terrorism gets cheaper, and the Great Flight of the wealthy from the cities to Telecom Cities deep in the Rockies and the Appalachians.

This provides a multitude of formerly civilized areas are given over to the terrorists, and they find it easier to battle among themselves than to go after the rich in their fortresses.

Then in 2075, the first Ascension occurs.  A human being survives a year-long process that turns them inside out, rewrites their DNA, and makes them literally superhuman.  While they don't have superpowers as such, they are stronger, faster, smarter...and much longer lived.

However, there is a problem. Ascension is difficult, and individualized.  It doesn't break down very well to mass marketization. Every job is a custom job with a high chance of terminal failure.

Soon societal tension between the Ascended and the struggling masses rises.

Freedom Force got started by Solar Knight, a rich kid who decided that he needed to do something for his society.  He took the Ascension process, and then dumped all his stock, his inherited club memberships, boards of directors positions, tax write-offs, federal grants--and started Freedom Force which was dedicated to using Ascendeds to take horrendously dangerous risks to save people's lives...especially the masses.

Lean Forward is less famous.  Its a secret society dedicated to advancing tech as fast and as far as possible without "silly restrictions based on outmoded moral codes suited for sub-Ascended intellects."  Membership is illegal, but not generally prosecuted.

You find out a lot about the two guys.  Although they are not related, they both have a very large match of interests and skills.  In fact, you lose track a couple times on which one you're reading about as you skim their life histories, blogs, business web pages, and so on.

PT

Tom continues his correspondence with the Lawyers.  The preliminary work can be done online, and when Dr. Brain returns (or Commander Cool for that matter given the skill I've seen with his computers), He can also download the data for the songs.  They might have all the ones he has, but a lot gets lost in 100 years.  More importantly...Tom now have all those songs he downloaded from the alternate world :) Tom takes the experience he gained in the other world and carefully applies it to making the contract here.

Oh....and he sees if he can find the absolute most junky antique 'pocket calculator' that they have here, since that probably makes the computer he currently has look like a complete amount of junk.  Whenever he gets money he'll try to get something more advanced, but as it is he could be frelled in a second.  He then downloads the schematics and basics for most of the more extreme technological advances they have, current music, movies, science etc (at least....the ones in public domain.....).  He DEFINATELY downloads Sky.

He also spends some time learning the finer nuances of using computers here.

When he does, he creates a minor program to create variants on the search parameters he has with these clone guys and sees how many other similar people might be out there like that.

He pings Commander Cool via virtual thingy.  "CC...Imagine if you will....you're Lean Forward...you want to make people ascend, but you want to do it under controlled circumstances...why not clone people of yourself and then set up lives that are or were virtually identical to your own?" He blips him the data he has collected on the two targets.

You make the contract here. A partner from their law firm who is stationed in orbit comes by to visit you for the confidential parts.  Its not nearly as profitable as in the preceding world, since they have most of the songs you have, but you do have enough to interest them.

Within a few hours, you find that one of your songs has hit the Top 100 downloads on the EarthNet.  Within another hour, its dropped off, but you made a tidy amount from having a billion downloads, even with micro-payments of .001 penny per download.

AuctionNet lets you buy an antique calculator, but unfortunately you don't find much in public domain.  Its seems public domain is almost strangled by patent lawsuits and copyright issues.

Indeed, you see a lawsuit against two parents who named their child "Mickey" by the DisneyCorp.  Of course their last name was Mouse, but still....

Computers here are stunningly fast, when they're not crashing.  Quality control is universally regarded as a bad joke.

You send your search program out...

Then you talk to CC.  He looks up from his exercise routine that looks painful, and you have the pleasure of seeing his mouth drop open when you spell out your theory.

PT

Right.  I'd be tempted to try and download something, but I think it probably unwise at this point since they might have self wiping music etc.

However, I am in the future so I'll look into the following items in order of priority (and with the funds I have)

*Universal Translator or the closest to it that I can find. Something completely innocous, like I can stick it in my ear.
*Private Lessons (on this station since there is a lawyer here, there might be other people offering such services) on Sword Making (ie using a forge and such to make Damascus Steel Blades).
*Legal Sci Fi weaponry, preferably stun/lethal, preferably solar powered (ie something that might have a limited number of charges but never runs out)
*Clothing style armor (preferably something that can easily be concealed under other clothiing, preferably protecting from energy/kinetic attacks)
*Really really really tiny cameras with sound and a link to a central projector that is really portable with a good range
*Over the counter Pharmacopias (indeed a 2100 'generic first aid kit' probably blows mine away....)
*Boots that look like the standard black leather boots that I have but made of 2100 material that are EXTREMELY durable.
*Any kind of medical/biological treatment that will prevent me from getting cavities ever again (We're on the edge of something like that now, and they might not always have toothbrushes in other worlds)
*For that matter any 'standard but cheap' medical upgrades that the general populace has including a polyvaccine or the like.

Day waits for CC to get his jaw off the floor and respond about the next logical step,"Where there is one set, there are probably many."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:50, Fri 30 June 2006.

1. They have language translators for forty languages.  The whole omnibus thing will set you back a lot--nearly fifty percent of what you've gained so far.  They also have programs to help you translate languages.

2. Not available on this station.  This station has relatively few people on it. However, they can have a sword made for you in a robofactory in zero-g. SK is willing to do this for free.

3.  You see a Neural Disruptor Wand which can be set on "Sleep/Unconsciousness/Massive Disruption" although such requires getting approval from authorities.  There's also apparently illegal changes you can make to it to cause "Trance/Epileptic State"--and people offering to make those changes for a fee deposited into a Grand Cayman or Lunar One bank account.

4. Clothing style armor is readily available. In fact all the FF use it.  Again SK will be willing to provide some.  He's willing to have you made a supersuit, and a set of civilian clothes.

5. You can buy a Remote Piloted Vehicle with air-drop deployed marble size cameras (with up to a mile of independent flight for the marbles), and a hundred marbles in the small carrier ball.  The flight source is airfans, although it can glide as well.  The main vehicle is solar powered and has stayed aloft at its maximum for 24 days.  This is relatively cheap, Army surplus.

Or you can buy 'smart dust' which is a LOT more expensive...

6. You pick up a first aid kit that has everything available that is legally allowed.  Its three feet by one foot by two foot, and is self-propelled by small wheels.--And then you look at the price tag...its more than you have.  However they have a wide variety of payment plans available at the click of a button.

7. You pick up a set of reenactor boots that look  close to yours, but are warranteed for life.  They're cheap.

8. Miss Flare gives you a quick once over with dentistry, and then doses you with a polyvaccine, and sequences your genome structure, and asks if you want certain tendencies to various diseases edited out of your genes.  Some she says are clearly useful to get rid of, but some of the genetic weaknesses have a virtue to their vice.

"Also, let me warn you that a Grade One Polyvaccine won't protect you from a War Grade Viral attack, nor a Nanite Attack.  However, it should prevent you from ever getting another cold, or cancer, or a flu.  It protects against unmodified viral and bacterial attacks, although in the right or wrong conditions even it can be overwhelmed.  So don't go swimming in untreated sewage with an open wound, okay?"

PT

1. Buy the translator.  It is DEFINATELY worth having.
2. Get tthe sword from SK.
3. Get the NDW.  For a very brief moment Tom is tempted to get the Trance/Epileptic state.  In a primitive world, it could make him a god...indeed, under the right world laws, he could become LITERALLY a god, but he does not trust himself with that kind of power...at least not from a device.  Sometimes knowing when NOT to obtain a power is the greatest challenge.  He does learn if there are easy defenses against it and aquires them.
4. Aquire supersuit and civilian clothes. Indeed, if there is an 'ultraviolet' model that lets him have armor and change clothing styles easily then he'll also buy that.
5. Get remote piloted vehicle as long as he can get one that is somewhat tiny.
6. See if there is a smaller version of the first aid kit that is useful but not qite as complete.
7. Boots obtained.
8. "I'll keep my genomic structure as it is for now.  Thanks for the PolyVaccine."

Two focal points of activities at this point:

9)See if I can get a literary agent.  Instead of using other people's work, I'll try to capitilize on other people's nostalgia and the fact that I'm from 100 years in the past...sure they have anti technophiles here, but not genuine throwbacks (and even if they have people who were alive, I've got a 'fresh' perspective.  I'll call the column (mean for seven parts), "What I see that is wonderful about today and what has been forgotten that should not have been: A perspective from 100 years in the past."  It will be generically positive, not technologically phobic but focus on the values etc (for example the idea that quality control has fallen by the wayside is STUPID...)

10)I want to research ascention more heavily.  How much is it? Once I'm done with this world, it might be a good way to exit (ie if there is only a 1 in 10 chance of surviving, then that is a 1 in 10 chance of aquiring super powers...)

OK to 1-3.

4. There is a chameleon suit, but it doesn't look very realistic at closer than twenty yards.  There's also a holo suit, but its even more obvious.  Both are outgrowths of other tech-the first is for military snipers to hide, and the second is from cheap party favors and displays.  There is a suit of civilian clothes that is reversible though.

5. OK.

6. Certainly.  They've got it split a couple dozen different ways.  You pick one that looks good, and is smaller.  Its still more than you can immediately afford.....?

7-8. OK.

9. Your column gets picked up by a small syndicate after Cool calls a friend of his.  It attracts some fans, some people who like it, some people who disagree politely, and about fifty death threats from people who range from "I read your work, and despise it." to "You anti-tech luddite, you're going to kill us all." to people who just hate you, and claim to have read your article, but obviously haven't to "So you're the latest member of the Conspiracy. Don't worry, the bullet won't hurt much when we deal with you lot."

9b. You get a small-time literary agent easily enough (unless you're trying for Mr. Big which will be a lot harder).

10. Ascension is enormously expensive.  Currently, it runs from the low-end of 25 million to high-end half a billion methods.

PT

Well at this point I'll focus my activities toward

A)Writing the next column.

B)Searching up on Clone People.

C)Waiting for Dr. Brain.

The next couple days past.  You've written and sent off your column, and started to receive mail back.

With Cool's help, you've identified what you think are a half-dozen different groups of clones.  The largest sub-set of them is five guys, all wordsmiths who enjoy water sports.

You also spot a couple more of the original clone group.  One a Californian, and the other a Vietnamese expatriate.

Dr. Brain arrives. He walks in to greet you.

"Ah, my theories are correct. Coffee is the drink of the gods." He pours himself a drink from your coffeemaker. "It is obvious men from other planes are not gods."  He pours out your coffee, and starts to make another. "I am wondering, weakness in the worldwalls, like attracting to like, perhaps even divine intervention on a directly observable level with only modest analysis needed."

He tastes his coffee.  Waves it at you.

"QED. Dr. Brain is a god."  He pours you a cup of coffee. "Taste and see the truth. Now your theory, if I may dignify a guess with such is, what?"

PT

Examine the mail.  Respond to all fan mail that is longer than five paragraphs long (use email to filter if need be) that is not pointless and stupid.  Attempt to intelligently respond to some critics.  If this takes up more than 2 hours a day, filter for random selection based on percentage of time needed.

Re: Clone research.  Examine each of these more closely.  Tom is looking for one of the clone lives that has.....more detail to it.  This is a difficult thing to quantify, but its something Tom would know if he saw it.

Re: Dr. Brain:

Tom drinks the coffee.  He smiles, "My theory is that it is coffee.  But if you mean my theory about the universe and what is happening to me? Well....I think it has something to do with something called 'Scriff'...because the last thing I saw before I got fried was a 'Scriff Enabled' on the system that zapped me.  No one really knew what the stuff was except that it seemed to make computers go faster.  Based on my conversation with the other World Traveler, it appears to me that violent death is a common occurance....now, one can argue that since a World Traveler no longer needs to fear death, they face deadly situations more often, but the first world I appeared on made death seem almost inevitable.  It wasn't so in the last world I was in, but there I was watched.  When I appeared here, I appeared in an airlock.  BUT when I thought and concentrated on a world with weird science and super heroes, I appeared here.  Furthermore, I was sent to a place where I was able to do good in the world.  So I'm thinking that the universe is basically benevolent, but with a slightly twisted sense of humor.  If the universe response to my mental impressions, then I am hoping that each world has a sort of...frequency or scent to it...and that if you can analyze me enough, you can detect this frequency so I can go back to my home world. I don't think I can stay there....but I need to return to take care of unfinished business."

You get into some interesting e-conversations.

"I grant you QC is bad, but most computers get upgraded so quickly it hardly matters.  Plus, the cheaper the machine, the wider the base of possible users.  To put it in your terms, if computers are Caddillacs few can own them, but many can own a Yugo."

===============================================================================

You find one clone that has his life much more fully documented, especially the earlier years, which is not so common with the clones.  You think you've found one of your targets.

===========================================================================

"Ah, scriff, fascinating stuff. Hazardous license to use. Like coffee should be. No one know how to make it properly.  It has many urban legends attached to it--people dissappearing. It violates Einstein's cute little theory, even messes with QM.  If we could build a computer purely out of scriff, it would be FTL, and we could get our answers back from future before we asked, I think. Not so legend I see. I get you some. Yes, universe is good vs. evil with a laughtrack, common theory.  Less common than theory that Lord Murphy is in charge.  Thats very popular.  I doubt Satan in charge of universe because we're still here--Dr. Brain alive, thus disprove Satan rule all the universe. Yes?  More popular still is theory that anyone can make coffee--this is simply not true.  Yes, a smell, good way to put it, very smart.  You're not as dumb as most people Brain meets."

He laughs loudly and smiles with tears coming from face.

"Station, send for scriff, and send for hound dog.  Cute one. We teach dog how to sniff out universes.  Or we let it teach us.Mmmh?  Plus, I get to have a puppy which mean Solar Knight said I couldn't."

"Cadilacs? Who needs Cadilacs? A VW Bug built after WWII was a design that lasted half a century and a typical model lasted fourty years.  At what point does having a 50% increase in speed becoming meaningless to the vast majority of the actual day to day applications of the populace? Furthermore, the current conventional model is still based on the assumptions of a flawed original technical model.  A far wiser set up would be to have publicly owned high capacity nodes with extremely cheap receptors that were introduced in cycles of five to ten years.  Engineers work better when you force them to work to your standard, rather than working to theirs.  Make the software applications and the like meet minimum basic standards, and you will find that ultimately the quality AND technology increase at a far faster rate.  After all, what would have happened to the American Industrial Revolution if Congress had not required all gauges of track to be standardized to maintain compatibility?  Innovation through competition eventually reaches a point at which mandated standardization is far better than pell mell pointlessness....so long as you maintain a controlled growth curve."

***************

Tom points the guy out to CC.  "This guy is almost assuredly a member of Lean Forward, or he has commissioned Lean Forward to make these clones for him.  Either way, I am quite convinced that further investigation of this guy is a good idea. I'm game to check it out if you are, though it will probably be lethal to me ultimately." He smiles at the last comment.

**************

"So you have Scriff here? Interesting.  Well, Scriff is almost assuredly the horizon threshold of a truly universal particle.  There might be more than one kind of...whatever Scriff is, but Scriff is the edge of the edge.  Understand that, and you understand everything.  It IS possible to regulate travel between dimensions, Mike, the World Traveler I first met, clearly implied such.  Now what I have in mind is a simple device that will let me return to a world I have already been too after a set period of time.  I am moderately convinced, for no other reason than I think that the 'formula' of creation would accomodate it easier, if such a device could be used periodically, say...once every six months or so, thus allowing me to travel to other worlds but still periodically visit one I had previously been to...."

In response to your email:

"Publically owned as in governmental, or as in a large corporation, or ...?  Its more like 100% increases every year.  The notion of a platform for operations staying stable for forty years is simply bizarre at first glance, however, I take your point that this might be a function of modern shortsightedness, and a lack of historical perspective.    A significant portion of the populace would find the words "controlled growth curve" to be anathema.  Also "mandated" since this implies governmental oversight.  Let me revise that, a significant portion of the most wired-in, tech forward community would.  I'm not saying you're wrong.  Also keep in mind that Internet years are regarded by 'ancient' tradition as ten to one non-Net years.  Sorry about this jumble, but we talk fast."

=========================================================================

"Lets try to avoid that lethal to you bit for as long as we can.  Do you have a superhero name you want to go by?  Mr. Universe, The Gate, Gatelord, Deathwalker..." Commander Cool asks as you and him prepare for the mission by gathering up stuff, and loading it into the shuttle. "You lead, and I'll evaluate." He says with a grin.  "We can pick up some pizza down the street from this guy, he's in the Windy City for a convention, and plan your next move for our team."

===========================================================================

Dr. Brain listens in interest.

"I need scans, physical samples."  You find he wants to stick you in an MRI/CAT/gravity sensor.  After that, its time to get naked, and get hyper-resolution photographs made.  Then after you get dressed, he starts running a twenty minute film of various pictures past you while recording your brain states, and body chemistry.

Then at the end of a forcep, a chunk of meat waving about, he says he needs a physical sample.  Before you can wince at the idea of losing chunks, he pops the sushi into his mouth.

"Spit in this cup." He holds out a small cup.  You spit.

"Now I can make a clone of you, if I wanted to. Don't worry, I won't. It requires a special license for every clone."

Commander Cool comes in.

"Ready to light the candle, and blow this joint?"

PT

In response to your email:

"Publically owned as in governmental, or as in a large corporation, or ...?  Its more like 100% increases every year.  The notion of a platform for operations staying stable for forty years is simply bizarre at first glance, however, I take your point that this might be a function of modern shortsightedness, and a lack of historical perspective.    A significant portion of the populace would find the words "controlled growth curve" to be anathema.  Also "mandated" since this implies governmental oversight.  Let me revise that, a significant portion of the most wired-in, tech forward community would.  I'm not saying you're wrong.  Also keep in mind that Internet years are regarded by 'ancient' tradition as ten to one non-Net years.  Sorry about this jumble, but we talk fast."

"Not a problem.  Talking fast is perfectly fine with me.  Well my question is this, when did the last person perform a study about how much time the latest upgrade actually saved vs how much time one spent trying to get it to work properly? That's not even to mention the idea of quality itself. Sometimes a value is worth having just because its not immediately convenient.  What kind of lessons do you think you're teaching the next generation if you just throw something away just because its not convenient any more?"

=========================================================================

"Lets try to avoid that lethal to you bit for as long as we can.  Do you have a superhero name you want to go by?  Mr. Universe, The Gate, Gatelord, Deathwalker..." Commander Cool asks as you and him prepare for the mission by gathering up stuff, and loading it into the shuttle. "You lead, and I'll evaluate." He says with a grin.  "We can pick up some pizza down the street from this guy, he's in the Windy City for a convention, and plan your next move for our team."

"Call me the Train Master."  Tom follows.



===========================================================================

Dr. Brain listens in interest.

"I need scans, physical samples."  You find he wants to stick you in an MRI/CAT/gravity sensor.  After that, its time to get naked, and get hyper-resolution photographs made.  Then after you get dressed, he starts running a twenty minute film of various pictures past you while recording your brain states, and body chemistry.

Then at the end of a forcep, a chunk of meat waving about, he says he needs a physical sample.  Before you can wince at the idea of losing chunks, he pops the sushi into his mouth.

"Spit in this cup." He holds out a small cup.  You spit.

"Now I can make a clone of you, if I wanted to. Don't worry, I won't. It requires a special license for every clone."

Commander Cool comes in.

"Ready to light the candle, and blow this joint?"

***OOC: My how much difference a sentance makes...here I thought Dr. Brain was asking this question...ie 'He needed to study a live death'....

"I am ready to come with you to the planet's surface, yes." Tom answers.

He looks at Dr. Brain, "I'm not entirely keen on clones of myself being around...while I'd like the idea of a version of me being able to have a life again after I was gone, sooner or later, I'll be back...also, I don't think they'll be scriff enhanced.  Not saying you'd create a clone, but I'm not thinking its going to do any good."

PT

"Five years.  It was very controversial.  Accusations by some of the team members that other team members altered the data in response to payments.  One theory emerging from that mess was that the uncorrupted data would have supported your view, however no follow-up study has been successfully started.

As to the next gen, well many of the tech forward group intend to be the last generation.  They want to become immortal, and skip the bother of having children.

Quality?? Are you talking about the ideal of craftsmanship or something?  Pride in manual labor or something antique like that?"

===========================================================================
"No clones, no clones. Clones are boring. Too simple. Boring."  Dr. Brain says.

"Welcome to Freedom One, Train Master." The computer says in conjunction with Dr. Brain, and then Cool asks you why that name as you both head to the shuttle.

"Ever landed a shuttle?" Cool asks.

PT

"Have you ever wondered if your society is being carefully manipulated? If Sky exists, then all it takes is a suffiently advanced understanding of where to pull the bells and whistles to make people reform their society in their own image. Then again, where there is one force, there are many.  The irony of course being, there are ways that no amount of manipulation can ever be used to sway one from the right course, but that requires a bit of old fashioned concepts, which you're probably not interested in these days.

No, we'll stick to the present topic at hand.  Pride in manual labour? What about pride in who you are? There is a reason to take pride in the thing itself.  If all your actions consist of scurrying about from one technological marvel to another with no meaning behind it all, what is the point? What will happen when technology unlocks the secret of quantum recreation? Such is the inevitable march of their progress, like the Eloi of the Time Machine, their immortality and their magical mastery of the machines will turn them into naught but spoiled children? Can you not see the path upon which you take yourselves?

And to abandon children? Are they so blind? Even if they achieve immortality, what does it gain them? Nothing in a world in which entropy is the dominant law can ever truly live forever.  No bulwark against decay can truly stem the tide forever, even if it is only the number of the immortal that grow tired of living.  The conclusion is inevitable...without children there is no continuation of purpose, for it is the purpose of all living things to replicate themselves, to spr1ead and respread their pattern of creation across the stars.  This is mankind's destiny, but if he will abandon it they will becoming nothing more than technological ghouls, souless things living in their self made islands of pleasure with no purpose and no depth of character to make their existence have meaning.  What of the mortal mind doth truly understand the concept of immortality and the nigh godhood they create unto themselves? Let them have their immortality. Without the potential of children, they will learn that their immortality is a curse.  I should know.  I should know."

********************************************
"That name?" Tom says, "Why, what name can you think will strike more terror into the hearts of my enemies when they truly understand what it means?  And a bit of dry humor..." he smiles.

"No.  I can't say as I've ever landed a space ship before....but I'm not the one who is afraid of death so if you're game to try I am."

"We're not really about striking fear into our enemies' hearts although we don't mind that.  Solar Knight wants to create an ideal of service so that the poor and the rich will trust each other instead of ripping each other to shreds like cats in a bag in a river."

With that, Cool points to the joystick, and explains the basics of the control system.

"First thing, we run the checklist."

He takes a half hour going through it with you.

"Then we make sure we're undocked, and sealed up.  Don't want to give the station an unneccessary wobble when we boost."

 He then points to a button.

"Light it."

Breathing a little heavily, you push the button.  The shuttle shudders, and hums.

He points to a black knob he assures you turns on the microphone.

"You are Freedom One, on a training flight, and requesting landing at Great Lakes Spaceport, landing path at the discretion of Traffic Control."

He smiles before you reach to turn on the microphone.

"Any pre-flight or other questions?"

PT

"Um...anything that I can do that will immediately blow up the ship? Otherwise, no.  Just be ready to take the controls in case I do something absolutely insane."

He points to a blue button next to your hand.

"Whatever you do, don't touch that button."

And with that you're off.  Cool is right on top of what you are doing, even as he acts like he is lounging.  But he has such fast reflexes that he can usually stop you before you do something dangerous, or pretty quickly correct it.

You spend the first two orbits of the planet getting to learn how to turn the shuttle.  You point it nose-down, and then tail-down, and roll it onto its back, and then Cool does something, and suddenly the shuttle is in a flat spin.

You sweat struggling to get it back under control even as the centrifugal force rises slowly.  Finally you get it.

"Not bad." Cool says with a clinical gaze. "A real flat spin with an out of control maneuvering jet would probably have us decorating the walls in thirty seconds.  You took almost three minutes to get us nose down again."

After that he walks you through the landing.  The shuttle storms into the atmosphere, and the radio goes out as fire flames about the ship.  And then as it gets closer to the ground, Cool takes over.

He puts the shuttle down in the middle of Lake Michigan, and a tugbot pulls it up to a floating city in the middle of the Lake.

From there, its a short copter ride to Chicago where you land next to the famed Michigan Mile shopping street, and on top of a department store.

PT

Tom examines what there is in the shopping center and the local sites, but not for too long.  After all, what is the point of traveling from world to world if you don't see some of the better things that there are to see about it? Then again, he isn't a tourist.  After a relatively short while they go to see the target.

A trip down the street, and you take up post in an outdoor cafe' across the street from a glass-walled restauraunt labelled, Cryogenic Flames.  You see a few people who stand out, better looking, quicker moving, more energetic...like Cool.  But most of the people seem to be just like everyone back home.

A protest march goes by, and your target still continues on his long lunch.  They seem to be in favor of stopping technology altogether, although you see plenty of them with all sorts of tech devices.

Suddenly a chair at your table is moved out,a nd you see a huge guy sit down.

"Hey Cool."

"Zeus." Cool replies.

"What are you doing?"

"Its still a democracy, your godliness, not a theocracy." Cool snaps back.

PT

As they pass the protestors, Tom shakes his head, "Technology to me is like Capitalism.  You will find no more ardenent technologist or capitalist than I...both are wonderful tools for the betterment of man, but I swear, speaking as an outsider CC, I have to tell you, I think you guys are majorly loosing focus about what is really important...though I will also say that the goals I've seen for Freedom Force give hope that you have some chance of finding the right track."

Re: Zues

Tom is normally a fairly easy going fellow...in a paranoid, occasionally ....not so easy going way.  So there is a part of his brain that says, 'Hey, the guy is like just there....why get him riled up?' And the other part of him is like, 'If Commander Cool doesn't like this guy, then I probably don't either.'

Instead, he's going for the 'ignorant but not so ignorant hick from wayback yonder'.....

"Well HELLO there Zeus! Wow.  I met a guy who was a follower of Odin, but I must say, I didn't think to meet a theological presence in the flesh.  So....can you like...do the shimmering light thing, must be a killer trick at parties.  Say, while I'm at it, I have a rather curious question on Grecian theology, maybe you can answer me.....What came before Khaos? Also, do you have issues with the whole incest thing, or is that not applicable due to your baseline genetic purity?"

"Your perspective is especially valuable because you are an outsider, Train Master." Cool says quietly.  "Our chief goal is to manage the general Ascension without causing some sort of megadeath war."

====================================================

Zeus looks hard at you, and then faintly smiles.

"I am the reincarnation of Zeus, and my memories of the first one are unclear."

And then he smiles enigmatically, and light plays about the room, and you find yourself wanting to sink to your knees in awe.

"Son et lumiere. The human mind is very susceptible. Zeus, you're being a pill."  You hear Cool say at the edge of your attention.

PT
OOC: 'baseline genetic purity' :)  .  BTW, why Train Master? I feel like I should get the reason, but I don't.

"Thanks Cool.  I think that's the proper way to go.  Maybe I should study more about how Ascension works...I'm no Dr. Brain but I might be able to make some suggestions....Who knows."

****************

Something primal snaps in Tom's mind.  He is well aware of the hypnotic and epileptic transmitters, and well aware of how they work.  Rage and adrenalin begin to pump through his mind on the one one hand, the reptile brain being impervious to the more sophisticated manipulations thereof.  The second part of his defense was the manipulation of his own concious mind.  The fact was, that Zues had no real understanding of what he was doing.  Unlike anyone else on the planet, Tom knew that there was a REAL Zeus out there somewhere, and that the Greek Pantheon was, above any other pagan pantheon, the one he DESPISED the most.  The REAL Zeus would have a problem manipulating him, much less this cheap imitation.  On one hand he rationally ignored the facts, and at the same time he worked with the conditioning of the device, focusing its imposed reverence on the REAL Zues, thus drumming up outrage at the fact that this paltry imitation was darkening his name, and on top of that the REAL Zues was simply borrowing glory from the more divine reflection of what he was in the first place.  In short, this guy was not only pathetic but wortheless at the same time.  Ever cast a 'charm person' spell on someone in a LARP who didn't want to cooperate? You'd be amazed at how creatively one can be your 'buddy' and yet not be.

The final key to his reaction was Belief, pure and utter belief that what he was saying was true and at the same time his Spirituality manifests itself, being true to his faith, himself and his spiritual path, but it is not in brute force but cruelity that it manifests itself.  It is not a side of himself that he is proud of, but he knows how to strike and strike he will.

If this works....

"You call yourself Zeus because you believe yourself better than other men, but you wrap yourself in a shell of someone else's glory.  There are other worlds, and other gods 'Zues' but your technological trick is as close to the real thing as impressing an aboriginal with a flashlight.  I trade you one primitive trick for another.  You are now cursed Zeus.  Your very belief in the supernatural  will drown you in its resplendant cloak.  Every time you second guess yourself, the whispers in the back of your mind, the ones that know the truth of who and what you are will manifest themselves.  Every failure, every near success will haunt you for days.  And even your successes will be ashes in your mouth Zues, because you will always wonder when the Curse will strike next.  You cannot help it.  You cannot escape it.  You already believe it.  You will fervently deny that you believe it, but the more you do, the more you prove you are weak and pathetic.  You are an empty shell in every way but physical.  Enhanced mental capacity cannot bring you wisdom and you know this.  All your plans are now transperant, and all the sources of future funding will soon manifest themselves.  This is no accident.  There are no coincidences.  Your presence here at this time is a farce, you know it and we know it.  You seek to defend the aborhorent, in the poorly shaded bindings of legal technicalities, which will not shield you from the animal rages of the ignorant that surround you. Your very presence here is a manifestation of the curse.  Go now, and warn your erstwhile ally that we are aware of his presence and that very shortly he and those that would perpetrate their heinous massacres against the innocent shall pay for their crimes."

Tom laughs derisevly at the 'God.'

------
'Trainmaster'='A train is going south at 30 miles per hour.  Another train is going North at 40 miles per hour' etc etc.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:13, Sat 15 July 2006.

Zeus staggers back out of his white metal chair, tipping it over with a clang onto the tiled floor, fear flickering on his face as he strives to bring himself back into control.

Unconsciously, he raises a right hand, and you see a shimmer like a stylized lightning bolt a yard long appear, and suddenly the room goes ice cold.

"Don't go there, Zeus old boy." Cool says quietly.

There is a flash of light and a crack of thunder, and for a second you think you're dead.

And then as your eyes clear from the black sparkles in them, you see Cool sitting across from you studying you with some interest.

The cafe' is filled with excitedly chattering people, and several being helped back up to their seats.  Ice is evaporating off the surfaces of everything; its just a thin film.

You can see the manager looking over at you two.

And inside your head you feel a certainty that you have unleashed pain and suffering upon "Zeus".

PT

Tom blinks.  It hadn't occured to him that he might be able to ACTUALLY unleash a Curse on 'Zues', at least not in the mystical sense of things, his own fears would normally have been quite enough....but then again, Tom didn't really know WHAT he was capable of.  The universe was a remarkable and complex place.....but that could come in handy if it was backing him up.....

He slowly stood up and blinked, "er.....right.  So.....er....um......I guess the guy is gone?" He says this in a way as to say 'No, not Zues, the OTHER guy'.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:02, Mon 24 July 2006.

"Not yet, but I assume he will be.  I'm just waiting to see what Zeus' next move will be.  He could fold and walk away, and retreat inside a legal fortress and dare us to prove our suspicions.  He could help his ally escape.  He could attack us."

Suddenly there is a huge hum from down the street.

You see a guy in a bumblebee costume about seventy feet down the street.

He's surrounded by an area of rippling air, and he points his stinger fingers at things and they start to break apart--glass first.

"Interesting." Cool says much more loudly since he has to to be heard.  "Bumblebee is a super-villain, an Ascended bank robber who uses sonic generators to interfere with wireless communication links.  The fact that he's here is surely stretching the limits of probability."

PT

"If possible, can you distract our new pal while I focus on interviewing our friend the cloned?"

Cool smiles.

"Sounds like a good plan. Catch ya' on the flipside."

He gets up and strolls out with a sudden force that seems more related to gusts of wind than anything human.

PT

Before going up to talk with this guy, Tom reviews what he had read about this guy before arriving.  What was his name? What was his occupation? What were his hobbies? What did www.googleintheweirdfuturesuperworld.com reveal about his name and email address?  Who is he currently with? What, if anything, could be observed about his behavior? For example, how did he treat the waiter/ress? What did he order? Was he looking around? Did he see us? What is he currently doing (if anything).

He hasn't see you; he is manipulating some sort of holographic display of rather high complexity, trying to find some sort of solution to the problem it represents.  Its done discreetly as its only a few inches high over his table, but he's clearly at work.

PT

Right.  It may be 'work' but I have a feeling it directly ties into the fact about why Lean Forward is interested in him.  While success in 'global domination' does not by itself mean he is a sociopath like the rest of them, its a pretty good potential skill draw.  He moves closer to get a look at this 'holographic display' as discretely as possible.

Its a control system, but at such a level of abstraction as to make deciphering what its managing  as to be difficult.

However, you do see some bar scales to the side which measure "Pot. chn. revolution; pschy. trauma; investment risk accepted."

It could be the game, or it could be something else.

You think he's about to become aware of you.

PT

All Tom needs to see are the words, "pschy. trauma" and he immediately acts.  This guy might be about to be aware of him.  Fate is like that.  Sometimes one cannot avoid moments when a choice is made, but like the mystical sense of prophesy, sometimes the words can have multiple meanings until one can strive to make one meaning or the other more accurate.

In this case, 'about to become aware' is intrepreted rather heavily by Tom as whipping out his little weapon that he aquired and setting it to the unconcious setting or the heaviest setting (that doesn't involve killing him) he can find and applying it liberally to Mr. Genius.  It is, of course, entirely possible, that this is not the wisest of actions......since persuing this in a court of law requires things like evidence, but then again, if it is what he thinks it is...a court of law may not be sufficient.

Tom is quite sure on an instictual level that this thing is awful....but whether or not it is simply the awful of a completed plan of the murder of several clones for the increased odds of one person ascending, or, his initial impression (Which is right often enough not to ignore) that this is an advanced Sky calculation and must not be allowed to be carried out.

What he does know is that he desperately hopes there is something incriminating on that computer and that it is not just a game.  He's not taking the chance to find out.

OOC: In the event that somehow I have overlooked facts and Tom has not aquired the weapon physically yet, Tom will reach into his pack and pull out something nice and blunt to hit him on the back of the head with to knock him unconcious...like a Titanium Mess Kit.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:34, Mon 31 July 2006.

The man starts to turn, sees your weapon coming out, and tries to leap to his feet to charge you.  You catch him mid-leap, and he slumps bonelessly to cover your feet in a sprawl.

He didn't look professional, but he did have good reflexes, and an aggressive streak.

You are at the device on the small round table, and people are starting to gasp at you.

He's currently playing "World Domination" you are able to ascertain.

You see most of the people leaving the restauraunt, being shuffled out by waiters through a door away from you.

Outside, you hear Bumblebee and Cool shatter some glass.

There's a managerial type person who is studying you from behind a screen of a desk.  His eyes don't seem frightened, nor angry, but there is no friendliness there either.  He's about twenty feet from you, and obviously waiting until the customers are out of the way.

PT

Tom shoots the manager.

He does this without even thinking.  It is instinctual, and he is fairly certain the manager was going to do something he didn't want to deal with at this particular point in time.  If anyone else gets too close, they get shot as well.  (Note: This is on the assumption Tom knocks them unconcious.  If Tom sees large smoking holes or blood coming from Hades, Tom won't shoot anyone else.....though Tom will shoot into the cieling to encourage them to stay away)

Tom approaches the device.  The image of a butterfly flapping its wings moves over and over again in his mind.  The rational part of his mind is screaming, "Your instinct is good but not always right!"

To which the cold analytical part of his mind replies, "Hades.  Pantheistic Inc.  Zeus."

"That still doesn't necessarily mean anything!!!"

"He was rude to the waiter."

And to that there is silence, worst case scenario is, he ruins the hobby of a perfectly innocent bystander.  But Tom is fairly certain that this IS more than that, and that they ARE using this game as a pretext for their global machinations for ascention...or worse.

He thinks quietly to himself, Lord....I'm drawing pretty heavily on the heavenly credit card right now, but as we are all Unworthy creatures without Grace or Hope but for Thy Son, I would ask thee for a further withdrawl.  I am often foolish and often wrong, but I know it is no accident that I am in this time and place.  I am hopeful that within my fingertips lies the pinacle of a vast cascade to tip the balance of this place in Thy favor.  Even if this contains not the wealthy potential of a hidden Sky equation, the device itself is linked to others, who like the butterfly flapping its wings will affect another and in turn affect another....let this set in motion the unleashing of more champions of righteousness instead of dark.  Let this unleash the gates of seeming random change that those who might not have otherwise recieved it will now be granted ascension and become Earthly Angels in thy sight.  Thine is the Kingdom, the Glory and the Will forever.  Amen."

Tom begins to monkey with the controls of the game, flipping them left when they're right, up when they're down, inside out frontwards and backwards purely on instinct.  He is either a vessel of divine retribution here or an agent of Chaos if no intercesion is made, but one way or another he'll hopefully make Hades a very unhappy fellow.

You trade shots with the manager. You miss, he misses, you hit.  He crumples behind the counter. Meanwhile, everyone who was leaving slowly suddenly decides speed is of the essence.

You play around with the controls, going on instinct, and a screen comes up.  Its a list of games with different characters saved on the device.

One character title leaps out at you.

"Lord of Shadows."  Hades...hmmh..

You enter that character, and see that it is indeed a Hades like character.  And another list of game campaigns for it appears.  The game structure of World Domination seems to be very complex.

You see the following list of options:

1. Homeric Greece
2. Hellenic Era
3. Roman Era
4. Romantic Era
5. Pre-modern (20th Century)
6. Full-scale Modern
7. Offer alliance
8. Study Powers
9. Move Forces
10. Upgrade NOW.
11. Help

Right, well basically Tom knows that only three are of the most importance (besides that Help, which he doesn't have time for right now)....Hellenic or Modern.....

All correspondence between them will be in Homeric Greece, but all manipulation is going to be in the modern era.

Now, if he wants to screw this guy up, then Offering Alliance is definately the way to go, and Moving Forces would also be fun.....but how do you move forces in a way to screw them up as much as possible?

Tom goes with his first instinct and chooses, "Homeric Greece"...and keeps VERY aware of his surroundings.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:38, Tue 01 Aug 2006.

Keeping aware of whats going on outside, which is not looking good for Cool, you begin to move Hades forces around.  First, you figure out what his strong points are, and then you move all his forces to his weakest points leaving the strong points undefended.

At first no one does anything, although you can see a few flickers of unfriendly interest.

The chatline on the computer says...

"I think he's drunk...."
"No, its some sort of complicated trap..."

And on a private line you get a

"Hades, man, what are you doing? Circe."

pt

Having played Strategy games....

If the man has resources stacked up...cash, Karma, Divine Power etc...If it isn't necessary for the moment to continue my sabotage efforts elsewhere, I want it spent in stupid measures...indeed, if I can, send it to Prometheus (if there is one)...that MIGHT be bad, but it might be good.

To Circe, "Line Pot. Compr/Cassandra-Orpheus Analog Action/Zues Failed-Sync Bhvr. Requested on my Actions."

***Run Search on Dionysus (Greek god of Honey).  See if I can call Bumblebee off.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:35, Wed 02 Aug 2006.

Circe: A long string of curse words, and then she types.."Meet up at Mons, on IRDF, k?"

Suddenly the screen lights up, and you see a dark-faced man with vibrant eyes full of suspicion staring out at you.

"Whats going on Hades?  Is one of the CT spook shops on your tail, and you want to buy protection, or what?"

PT

"Will do." Well the jig is up....but he can still do some damage in the meantime...hopefully...definately need to get this nice little computer.  It clearly has evidence and stuff in it.

In reply to the nice little man, "No.  I don't.  Don't ask again unless I contact you first.  Follow protocol."

Right.  Time to get the hell out of dodge.  Pick up the computer and fold it up.  How to help Captain Cool?.....thinkthinkthinkthinkthink......Dash to the salad bar....grab table cloth....grab buckets of salad dressing...put in table cloth....rush outside....begin swinging table cloth in circular fashion...if Tom gets a clear shot...hurl it at Bumble bee....I dunno...maybe it'll blind him or something...
This message was last edited by the player at 03:42, Tue 08 Aug 2006.

"Protocol? Hades, you've never donated to the Prometheans, and now you dump millions on us.  I want to know whats going on.  Having second thoughts about your wannabee god friends?"

The man retorts as you start folding the computer in your hands.  The computer asks you if you want to terminate this conversation, or transfer it to vocal only.

With the buckets of salad dressing,a nd your homemade sling, you rush outside to see the ground covered by about an inch of ice, and the stench of sulphuric acid rank in the air.

Crater holes are punched in the ground, the walls, cars, and even a couple people.  THese holes are growing, dripping, and smell of acid.

Bumblebee is above you, about three stories.  Cool is in the street, looking much battered.

PT

Tom isn't sure what to do here.  Anything he says will be a contradiction of what he has already said....the guy knows he's lying so he's just fishing for information...Tom tells the computer 'yes' to verbal only. "Possession is nine parts of the law, which means I would take the money.  My allies, most of them, are quite worthy of my attention.  One needs to be taught a lesson in humility.  If you are prepared to do a mild...favor...in return, there is a small thing I would ask, but service would have to be immediate....if you want more, I need the removal of the Power Bumblebee and I need it now.  You will find him at {tell him the name of where Bubblebee is}.

Tom looks at Cool and looks at Bumblebee....What the heck is he supposed to do here? Heck, even if the guy isn't immune to the shots on these guns then the odds of hitting a guy who is three feet up are miniscule....and how many times is the Lord going to let him Curse guys at random.....what is he supposed to do?......

The analytical part of his mind immediately began considering options.  Physical domination is impossible in this case.  He is not an ascended being.  That means Mental domination...he has to say something...anything....but...what...

Tom's lips started moving...."computer, verbal interface off...."

He then shouts to Bumblebee. "HEY YOU...yeah you, up in the air....how would you like to earn more street cred than you know what to do with? How would you like to be a %^%^{}{ millionare? C'mere...I got something for you...."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:53, Tue 08 Aug 2006.

"All right, I'll bite." Prometheus says as you sign off.

Outside, facing Bumblebee, you see him swoop down, and place you between him and Cool.  Granted, his suit is goofy, a basic bumblebee design with buzzing wings, and you can feel your teeth vibrating from some sort of sonic generation field around him, but even still, he's Ascended.

Just a dork ascended, tho'...

"Money? Make it snappy pal, us supervillains ain't got all day."

PT

"Absoluletely.  If you've got a bank account I can just transfer the money to that..."

He smiles, and then the grin flickers, and then he smiles again more broadly as he solves some apparent to him problem.

"Fine. Let me send a quick email. There. I've got a new account.  Just in case you were thinking of hacking my old account, and emptying it out."

He gives you the data you request, and settles down on the ground in front of you.

"Whew, flying is fun, but you burn more cals than doing crunches with free weights to make it hard."

He's getting chummy now that he convinced he's won.

PT

Tom continues talking with him, "I must say that acid gun of yours is rather impressive.  Did you make it yourself or contract it out?"

Tom orders the computer to transfer 200,000 to the account provided.

In the event that the computer has 'issues' with this, obviously it will depend on the issue, but as a generic response, "Please give me the number one more time, the computer is being idiotic."

In the event that it does work, "While we're at it....I'm a man of opportunistic talents.  I rather firmly believe in serendipity.  Which is to say, it isn't every day I run into someone who can beat so well known a Super Hero.  Do you have any other...how shall I put this....Talents....that can be quite lucrative?"

The computer accepts the transfer.

Bumblebee smiles.

"I gamble a bit on the Web.  But only on games I know I'm going to win, if you know what I mean."

You can see Cool looking over at you with a question on his face.

Do you want me to continue acting dazed so you can talk to this guy, or what?

PT

Tom isn't sure how to convey that he definately wants Cool to take this guy down as quickly as possible, so he tries hedging his bets, "I know what you mean about hedging your bets.  That's why I'm talking to you.  I'm a man of business.  Let me tell you, sometimes things happen at random, like a blow from nowhere when you're not looking.  Drives me nuts.  Easiest way to solve that problem is have someone who knows how to take care of themselves, someone who can...react in a very violent fashion if they mess around with my interests, know what I mean?"

If Tom has some kind of subtle secret channel, he'll say, "GET HIM IF YOU CAN" but otherwise hope he gets it in between the lines.  In case Cool doesn't take him out, Tom will VERY carefully wait until the attack has actually happened in which case he'll say, "LOOK OUT" far too late.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:03, Wed 04 Oct 2006.

Bumblebee glances over at Cool who stumbles at that moment, and reassured the bank robber turns back to you...

There's a flicker of light at the edge of your vision as you look at Bumblebee dead on, and Cool is standing on top of Bumblebee's neck.  Bumblebee is face down on the ground.

"Look.. Out!...ah whatever." You grumble.

You heard a distinct sound of a cra--aack! you realize.

Cool gives you a thumbs up.

"Broke his neck.  It will take at least a couple days for him to get out of the hospital.  One of the easiest ways to take some one down with a flying kick if you have only time for one strike."

"Well...we need to get into orbit.  Fast.  I really don't think you want to ask me why.  In fact, you definately don't.  Not yet anyway.  I don't know if we can make it in time, but if we hurry we probably can.  Actually, now that I think about it, it might not be that bad, but quite frankly I'd rather not take any chances.  I do have information though."

Barring objection, Tom will return with Commander Cool to the Freedom Force station.  Along the way, he will continue 'playing' the game and messing things up as best he can.

Cool studies you for two seconds, decides you are serious, and competent enough to make this call, and suddenly he's darting out into the street, and across the street to a man getting off a Harley.

"20K if you get us to the spaceport in seven minutes."

Theres another guy on a high, black descendant of the Ninja which protests, but Cool ignores him.

The man jumps his bike off the cycle stand, and roars over to you with Cool behind.

The next thing you know, you're being pressed backwards into a backrest by two g's of torque, and the engine is roaring.  You're heading at what must be seventy miles per hour toward the back end of a slow-moving delivery floater....

There doesn't seem to be any room to get around it.

PT

Tom is quite sure that Cool is either going to get around it, or probably not be killed in the resulting impact.  Given his ability to absorb information, now is the time to tell him the most important information...not necessarily how he got it.

"The game that our target is famous for playing is not a game at all.  It is a cover.  He goes by the Code name of Hades.  He is part of something that I think is called the Olympian movement, probably the same group that Zeus belongs to.  The game is using the Sky metaphors that your boss thought up to manipulate society to their whims.  We need to get to Dr. Brain and get his help to get into that game and turn it around."

"The Olympians are our competitors for the coming post-human world.  We want to teach humans to be responsible and helpful.
They want to teach people to 'be gods' like the Greek version.  And thus to do whatever they want."

The bike is laid down on its side, and everyone's legs are pulled out of danger.  And then with everyone ducking, the bike skids under the floater in a shower of sparks doing about sixty miles per hour.

On the other side , the bike was yanked back up, and you hear Cool laughing in delight.

Then the bike roars onward with wild enthusiasm at the wheel.

PT

Tom inwardly hopes Cool is laughing at delight at the thrill of moving so close to the edge and not from attempting to find out how much Tom really does fear death.  Knowing Cool, it is almost assuredly the former.

"One other thing.  Hades was an expert at 'deep drilling' or 'deep structures' or something like that.  I think that the Olympian HQ, and quite possibly where they have the code for their little game can be found there.  What do you know about the Olympian called Circe? She tried to contact Hades....wanted to meet with him."

You arrive at the ship, and Cool and you board it.  Its already warmed up, and ready to go when you arrive.

"Interesting.  We were sure the Olympians had a headquarters, but we don't know where it is.  Of course, its not illegal being an Olympian, but still in the equations is the definite possibility that Freedom Force and the Olympian 'gods' go to war with each other."

The ship slams upward.

Cool continues to talk while you struggle to breathe.

"Circe is one of the best programmers, possibly their best, in the world.  Even before she underwent Ascension she was scary good.  Happily, she's only normal bright with other things, or we wouldn't be having this discussion.  She'd be Queen of the World.  Oh yeah, she hates men.  Said to Newsies 'All the men I've ever met have been pigs, so I'm going to generalize. All men are pigs.'"

PT

Tom is waiting for the ship to get out of US jurisdiction before he gives him the ...interesting news...if he even gives it at all.

"We should check the work done by our friend.  I guarantee you that if you look at it, you will find out that he has placed their HQ in one of those deep earth pockets.  I'll have to look when we get back.  Circe sounds like the one who decided to put the sky equations and hide them in a perfectly legal game.  If you attatch the game to the equations, then it is easy to see that they could alter all reality through pawns like Bumblebee by applying the right time and the right place.  As for being illegal...well, arranging to have clones made of yourself and then having them killed is probably a good start...normally, this might be a good idea of a place to look, though I ....don't think that's the best place to look at the moment."

It becomes easier to breathe once you reach orbit, and then microgravity kicks in.

The Freedom Force team leader comes on the screen.

"I hope you had a good reason. Emergency flight clearance like that is very expensive."

Cool points to you.

"I think so. When we get on board, we'll talk in the bubble."

Once on board, the group assembles in the bubble.  Its a very secure room for having private conversations in.  Even more secure than a boosting spacecraft, although thats pretty secure as well with all the raging energy output scrambling sensors, and the enormous and unpredictable speeds of the craft.

"First, we have pretty conclusive proof that the Supervillains, at least some of them, and the Olympian 'gods' are allied to some degree or another.  We suspected this might happen, but now we know.  Second, our newest team member has a few words for us as we plot strategy..."

Cool turns to you...

PT

Day coughs and says, "Er...well...I....may have....under the lingering influence of Zues's attempt at post hypnotic suggestion accidently shot Hades with a stun pistol, and in self defense prevented a restaurant owner from shooting me, and thus stunning him as well.  Indeed, now that I think about it, clearing from the lingering effects of this potent mind affecting technique, I realize that I have inadvertently stolen Hades's computer, that I happen to have here in my hand that contains all of their secret information that we should not in any way shape or form illegally analyze to learn what the bad guys are up to.  I highly recommend we analyze the data on the computer to determine what horrible illegal things I have done under the lingering post hypnotic effects of Zeus's influence.

At any rate....the computer contains a game called world Domination that they have linked to the Sky equations.  By doing everything through the game, they make it legally impossible to prove they are doing everything, but pawns and such in this game are directly linked to the game.  Move a pawn in the game and I am entirely certain that the super villains will move according to their corresponding actions.  By checking Hades's actions, we can find the location of the headquarters of the super heroes and the Olympians as well...finally...I...did something to Zeus.  He's going to be making mistakes in the near future, so we should watch for them.  The Supervillains and Olympians are recruiting members by making clones of their human friends, setting up fake lives for them, and then slaughtering them to boost their chances of ascension...which is why we should also let all the clones know that they're now targets."

By the end of your first paragraphical explanation, the guys are rocking in their chairs, or just wildly grinning, and the leader is wiping a tear of mirth from his eye.  The redheaded female is beaming at you, and blows you a kiss.

They turn rapidly serious though, and the doctor takes the computer, and begins to dismantle it with quick, precise gestures.

"Little boobytrap here."  He grabs your hand. "Hold your finger on this button."  He clips a wire. Looks at it attentively.

"Excellent. Its now safe."  He smiles to himself more than the others, and hits a button.

The data begins spilling out.

"Do I have access to the general net for the station, or should I put this on the more limited and quarantined secure net?"  The doctor asks.

PT

Day thinks, "This thing is probably a combination of both on my guess.  Circe is aware of this and if she's super computer queen, she has probably put traps in this thing.  If Hades has woken up by now, then all his data is no doubt trapped.  I'd start with the Quaranteen, filter or copy what you can, and then access the general net."

He gets to work on it, and mumbles something about needing a few hours as he leaves the room.

The team leader looks at you, and asks if there is anything more.  If not, people should prepare as need be for a major raid.

"My supposition at this moment is we notify the clones by time delay message, say fifteen minutes delay, and the more important law enforcement and white hat hacker groups at a twenty minute delay.  And that gives us fifteen minutes from when we start the clock ticking to take down their main base.  Objections? Modifications? Questions?"

PT

Tom gives him a detailed description about what happened to him.  He does not hide any details in his recollection of events.  He makes sure he tells them about his experience in the game, the conversations with Circe, and the conversations with the 'other person', his conversations with Bumblebee, and the horrible ways he was messing up Hades's game.  Otherwise, 'that's all'.

In response to his Objections/Modifications/Questions, Tom says

"Yes, I have one.  My experience with Bumblebee taught me that you don't bring a knife to a gun fight.....I would like access to your armory/equipment locker.  There are a few things I want to try and get. Also...how do I put this...because of the cost I was kind of reluctant to mention it, but given that I don't really DIE if I fail, and that I'm not nearly as effective otherwise, I'd like to volunteer to try any experimental ascension methods you have, allowing a human experiment, and also possibly allowing me to be more useful in combat against the Olympians...."

If Tom gets access to an equipment room/locker/armory, here is what I'm looking for:

First...REPAIR THE GUN.  Get solvent for the goo in it, clean it out, and put it in the backpack.

Second, get armored clothing if they have it, preferably Kevlar/Energy reflective.  I vaguely recall that they gave me a uniform that was somewhat like that anyway.

Third...Tom had a character once that was a normal superhero in a world full of mutants....his equipment was roughly as follows-

Autograpple. [Think Batman the Animated Series grabber cable thing.]
Grenades [Prefarbly very light weight, color coordinated, with a time delay]
*Smoke Grenades
*Flash Grenades
*Sleep Grenades
*Slick Grenades
*Paint Grenades
*Explosive Grenades
*Goo Grenades
Visor linked to the best I can get that is the equivalent of a tricorder
Cape made of highly energy reflective material [Hey, why not go ALL out super hero?]

Most of the other stuff, I already have in my pack....

Your suit is light kevlar grade, but far more flexible.  Its also unlike kevlar a decent protection against penetration wounds from a knife.  It will diffuse focused electromagnetic energy, but you are well advised to get out of the beam quickly, and to rotate your body while you do this.

The gun is quickly fixed with the spray degrading remarkably fast under the influence of its specific chemical 'antidote' which is in a spray can, and seems designed for such use.  Evidently, accidents with foam defense traps happen often enough to have cleaners available to restricted persons.

They have flash-bangs which dazzle and sonically bombard the target area.  These are dialable from annoying to potentially fatal.

Slick grenades--the Doctor offers you a spray canister with a high-compression pumper with the spray being a frictionless oil-teflon mix.  He cautions you to not spray this in your face--its likely to shut your lungs down.

Paint grenades--Cool offers you an old paintball autocannon with two hundred rounds--solar powered.

Explosive grenades--They scare up six of them.

Goo grenades--They get you two of them.

The cape is easy.

The other things they are able to get but not in a couple hours.

They ask if you are really serious about this.  They do have something that could be used, and it would offer some very useful data but the odds of surviving are about one in three.

Provided you are, they shoot you in the arm with a large pellet, and tell you to try to relax....

PT

Tom will obtain those things that he can, as well as a copy of the data/research Dr. Brain has done on him re: travelling from one dimension to another.  If he hasn't collected anything, he'll just take the data from all of the scans.  He also makes sure his pack is nearby.

Tom is torn on this...part of him thinks that the Scriff, which he considers a symbiot at this point, will reject this, but part of him thinks that if nothing ventured nothing is gained.  Part of him even wonders if ascension is natural and should be allowed, but he counters himself that to condemn ascenion is to condemn freedom force.  The final argument he makes against himself is feeble, and he knows it since he knows that he will do little good in that last raid if he is not ascended...furthermore, sooner or later, he will be killed, and it will be soon....the odds of this happening at the final battle are extreme, better to take a chance and be effective in the last battle.

Fine.  He tells himself, but at least try to tilt the odds a bit.

He does not like to die.  He never will.  It isn't a question of fear, but the question of the morality of it.  But failure to take advantage of an opportunity like this, that could potentially allow him to do great good, especially when death will not be permanent (he thinks), is also a cowardly act.

He decides to hedge his bets.  He prays silently on the subject.  He has complete faith in this matter.  He doesn't know the mind of God in all things, since God allows horrible and evil things to happen, but he does know the way of Prayer.  The formula is simple....if it is the will of God that He allow the Ascension to work, it will.  If it isn't, it won't.  And if the Lord does not choose to intervene, then random chance will.  Having said that, if the Lord allwos the natural mechanisms of reality to function as He designed them, then He may also allow intervention.

Miracles are rare, since Tom believes Man's purpose in life is to walk by Faith...but the rules change a bit when miracles manifest themselves routinely.  Furthermore, certain kinds of Miracles are intangible enough that even though he knows they are real, others might not necessarily know beyond doubt merely by observing.  His logic is such that if he can Curse for the Lord...perhaps he can also Bless.  He knows that there is a mechanic to this, since there is a natural mechanic to physics, chemistry and biology.  Therefore, whatever method the Lord used to allow him to act as a focus for His will has a logical basis.  It is time to see if that mechanism can be reverse.

Just before he is injected, he says, "I bless the fluid in this Syringe in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ.  Let it do the will of God and serve to enhance His servant if His will will here be done."

Tom lays back on the table and waits.

You feel sudden calm before the needle injects your arm.  The doctor looks at you.

"If praying keeps you calm, then by all means pray.  A calm mental state is one of the keys to getting through this.  And you've crossed the first hurdle admirably."

He looks at a notepad, and recites the message on it.

"You can do minor activity, such as walking slowly, or eating a light meal, or reading.  About one hour from now you should start feeling some stronger effects.  Primarily a very strong clarity of sense information."

PT

Tom will divide his hour into three hour long periods.

He spends the first writing a final column, whether he dies or not, he's done here.  He describes his perspective of the ascension and his views of the points of view of freedom force and the Olympians.  It is time delayed to be released in 24 hours so it goes out if he dies. (Details can be provided if you want).

He spends the next 20 minutes coordinating and 'quick drawing' his pistol and other equipment so his physical memory knows where it is and he cna easily retreive it.  He also sort of exercises the mental map of his reflexes, muscle memory and aiming of the pistol.

He spends the last 20 minutes meditating on the nature of reality, his experiences as a verser and the metaphiysical ramifications thereof.  Details on this can also be provided if needed.

Occasionally you break out into a cold sweat, or you hear phantom noises such as whispers, and then for a couple minutes you visit the head and salute the porcelain goddess with deep devotion.

But as soon as that is finished, you feel great, wonderful.  Ready to bounce on your toes, and cartwheel across the room.

The feeling subsides.

Gradually, you smell something.  The smell keeps getting stronger.  And then you track it down.

Its you.

Startled, you flick out a hand, and knock a laptop from the bed.  You find yourself diving over the bed, and catching the laptop before it hits the ground.

And then suddenly you're shaking.  Its so bad that you can't stand, and you can feel bruises on your fingers where it hit the laptop, and on your back from the rolling dive.

PT
OOC:If you like, I'll be glad to see your column idea and the other.  I find your speculations and analysis of this world, and its ills to be very informative in helping me flesh it out.

OOC: Fair enough. :) Thanks for the compliment.  Here is the 'column'.

"This is the last column I write as a stranger.  After this, I shall either be dead, or I shall be ascended, which rescinds, in my own mind at the least, the outside perspective that I have had through which to observe your society.  So what are some of my final thoughts?

I think I shall start with the question of what is a God? What do you define it as? The dictionary has many definitions, but the most important three are these:

"1 capitalized : the supreme or ultimate reality: as a : the Being perfect in power, wisdom, and goodness who is worshipped as creator and ruler of the universe b Christian Science : the incorporeal divine Principle ruling over all as eternal Spirit : infinite Mind
2 : a being or object believed to have more than natural attributes and powers and to require human worship; specifically : one controlling a particular aspect or part of reality
3 : a person or thing of supreme value or a powerful ruler."

Thus, to some a god is merely someone who is powerful, who has powers that others do not.  To others, a god is someone who is not only more powerful, but elicits worship in those beneath them.  The first definition is not just a powerful entity, but an embodiement of an ideal, of perfection, power and 'good'.

I speak, of course, in actuality of the struggle between the Olympians and the Freedom Force.  The struggle, as you well know, is between those that want you to behave like Olympian gods, and those that want you to worship the ideals that God, as bemeant by the world's monothesistic religions, idealizes.  The Freedom Force has never prosthelyted as a religious organization in my presence, but the principles to which they dedicate themselves are ideal with those who are of a more spiritual and benevolent nature.

The Greek Pantheon has always been my least favorite of mythology.  I had many reasons for this, primal among them were Hera's penchant to arbitrarily punish any mortal who dared to accidently be overcome by Zeus's mental manipulations.  She was brutal, she was petty, and yet in many ways she was tragically sad and flawed. All of her children were broken and ugly, and her marriage to Zeus a matter of state only.  The greek gods were not inherantly evil, but they were reflections of humanity.  They were the essence of humanity....all of its good and bad sides.

Art is a reflection of reality, just as Myth is a reflection of a society.  Myths often come from legends which come from truth in some form or another. Many scholars believe that the Greek Gods were actual stories told of real people.

Have you ever been to an art show that was supremely pretentious? Have you ever seen art that is so elevated from reality that none but the most elite can possibly hope to understand it? It is acceptable to explore art for its own sake, but Great Art, the truly timeless requires an acceptance and accolade from not only the great Artists of history (their peers) but the masses of humanity.

Normal Rockwell was never respected by the artists of his own time, but after his death, he was viewed as one of the greatest painters the world had ever produced.  And yet how many 'modern' artists of the late 20th century have become utterly forgotten because their abstractions eventually became disconnected from humanity? They were not timeless.

So too are the ideals of the Olympian Ascended.  They are merely philosophy for its own sake.  Humanity, reflecting back in itself, without any truly new ideals.  They appeal to the baser creature within you, and while that is a wonderful thing in many respects, it is also damnation.  It is not damnation in the fire and brimstone sense of the world, I'll leave metaphysics out of this as it applies to modern times, but damnation in the cessation to progress.

'Begin with the end in mind'.  That was the credo taught me by my Fathers.  If you follow the pantheon of new Greek Gods, humanity will stagnate. It will wallow in its own technological mirror, just like Adonis did so long ago before he plunged through the looking glass and drowned.  Sooner or later, that kind of philosophy will cause humanity to be destroyed, either internally or externally.

The philosphopy espoused by the Freedom Force aspires to something greater.  Something beyond mere carnal 'Do as thou Wilt' desires, and puts together the yoke of responsibility, with the dreams of ascension in a way that means that humanity will continue to grow, continue to become something greater.

'Do as thou Wilt' indeed Children of Tomorrow, for ultimately, the choice is yours.  "But as for me and my house, we Choose the Lord." Not only in purity of spirit, but purity of deed and philosophy.

Tom Day."

Tom's reflections on the nature of Versing are complex.  He needs more data to get a reliable understanding of it, but the fact that he manifest a miracle is somewhat comforting.  It means that, whatever God is, and Tom doesn't truly feel prideful enough to understand anything but the most basic elements of it, He spans across Verses....while it is possible that it is simply a local version responding to him, his instinct tells him otherwise...sort of.  He believes, on a more fundamental level, that Mike's talk of 'Ragnarock' indicate that there is a deeper plot...a deeper conflict, hidden behind the typical leap from universe to universe by the Versers....

All things have a purpose, even if it is not immediately appearant.  All of life is connected, as a webwork as subtle and as intricate as the systems that made up the human body.  That was the most valuable knowledge he had obtained from his science classes in the university. There wasn't much else one could do with a Bachelors in Genetics...well....maybe now that wasn't so true.  Time would tell.

The nature of Scriff and of Versers fascinated him.  There was a purpose to them in the ecology of the multiple worlds, of that he was sure.  But if there were 'evil' versers, then it had to be more than simple heroes that traveled from one world to another.  He needed to meet more of them to know what made a verser separate from others, though he suspected there was a paralell between those who Versed and those who Ascended...a sense of purpose might be it.  Perhaps even those who didn't know what their purpose was.

The nature of coindicence made him consider.  He did not believe in coincidence.  His placement upon this world was a direct result of him directing the Scriff to take him here, but would it always do so? Could any verser do that? It wasn't just a matter of the versing itself, but the time and place in which it occured.  Did it have an intelligence? The strange visions between one world and another clearly resembled dreamstate, an unconcious mind, perhaps trying to communicate through symbology, but was it truly intelligent or merely a manifestation of himself on a deeper level of the universe?

And if it was intelligent....what were its motivations? What made it tick? What was it looking for? What angered it?  Given his appearance in the dump on the second world, perhaps it was annoyed in certain cases...or perhaps it merely had a perverse sense of humor.  Could one persude it? Could one befriend it? Could Scriff accomplish things between versing? Was there an untapped resovior there to be understood? It was certainly worthy of study, that much was certain.

Mike had struck him as a warrior, not a scientist, not a seeker.  Oh, he had no doubt Mike possessed substantial skills in science, anyone moving around as much as he did would, and he was curious....but he never talked much about the fundamental nature of things, what made it work, how and why.  Now, he might know things, and had simply chosen not to divulge them...and yet....and yet....for some reason, he thought these questions were not often asked.  To think that they were NEVER asked was hubris, but to know on an instinctive level that Scriff was often ignored and taken for granted was not.

Secrets to be unlocked.  Secrets to be unlocked.


After the shakes....

Tom will lay on the floor and enter self actualization excersizes he learned from a teacher when he was a child.  It is a type of autohypnosis, and very useful for relaxing or going to sleep.  Essentially, it involves an invisible pair of hands carefully massaging each part of the body, but after a few minutes, the practical effect is allowing the nervous system to reorient itself and 'reset'.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:08, Wed 18 Oct 2006.

You feel better after your autohypnosis.  The shakes retreat, and then end.

But you can hear your heart go thumpety-thumpety...

And suddenly the Doc is rushing into the room.

He places a circular device on your chest, and your heart rate slows.

"Your body is intermittently speeding up, but your heart is racing all the time.  Its not in synch with the rest of the transformation, and it may damage itself if it doesn't allow itself a rest.  I hope this modulator can bring the two rhythms back into unison."

He checks your hand and back.

"Broke your pinkie finger.  You've got about thirty minutes before the next phase begins in earnest.  If we can get your heart beating in time with your body, you should be ready for that."



OOC: We'll advance the skill by an @1 bonus since this seems to be a new skill usage since you've never ascended before.  How good are you at this anyways?

OOC: Generally speaking, pretty good.  I am able to enter a relaxation state approximately 100% of the time, though it takes between 2-10 minutes.  I have never practiced with a biofeedback monitor (ie regulating hearbeat) but there have been many times where my heart has been very rapidly racing and I've been able to calm it.  This is particularly doable when I combine the breathing technique I learned from Martial Arts training, though doing both takes considerable concentration and effort.  Its basically a question of time, not result.  I am easily able to enter very deep focus meditation where I can either, not think at all, or concentrate on a single thing with out difficulty.  I admit, I can't do this at all if I'm in great pain, but a racing heart wouldn't do that.

IC: At this point, Tom will focus on the meditation and relaxation, but silently and wordlessly pray, which also helps.  He feels remarkably calm in this situation, made manifestly easier because of the fact that he wins either way, though he definately desires to live and he definately desires the potential advantages that this can give him.  He focuses the entirity of this thoughts and being on slowly making his heart slow down, breathing in and out.

You calm your heart down in about three minutes, and the Doc nods in approval absently as he gets up from your side.

"Nice technique." He mutters as he leaves the room.

Time passes, and then another change sweeps through your body.  Sweat drenches you, your muscles ache, and you find yourself panting for breath.

You make it through the other side of that.

"Your senses and reaction are reset, and then your metabolism is revved up.  You'll find you need to eat about twice what you did before the ascension, and later you'll find that it is possible to alter that with mental focus."  Lady Flash says as she walks in to the room.  She smiles at you.

"Your next stage is one of the hardest.  At least it was for me.  In about an hour, you're going to be weeping one moment, and then shouting for joy the next...You might find yourself spiralling into a manic depression, just hang on if that happens."

PT

Tom's initial thought is, 'Why not just put myself out then', but he understands.  Ascension is....something inherant in the being themself.  And one thing that Tom has learned is, one cannot run from one's self.

"How many stages are there exactly? While I am generally in control of my emotions...some of them can be...rather dark.  There is a reason I never drink more than a little alcohol.  Look, I have very good willpower, but I understand that I am a flawed creature.  Temptation is better avoided than confronted.  Is it possible to be put in restaints or will that damage the process somehow?"

Tom simply begins to prepare himself with mental fortitude.  It helps.  Hyperfocus is both his flaw and his talent.  When he needs to, he can put the world out and focus on just one thing.  Action will help if restraints won't work.  Doing something constructive, something simple, which in this case will be eating popcorn and counting every single kernal.  If that doesn't work, counting to a billion bottles of beer on the wall also helps.

Prayer is very useful in these matters, but he cannot focus on that for this.  He does not want to focus negative emotion on the divine, especially given what he now is...even if he doesn't know what that is.  He has faith, and hope, and love, but he is not perfect by any stretch of the imagination.  The one advantage that he has is that suicide is not an option.  It was never an escape before, it certainly isn't now.  Better to suffer through it.

They put you in padded restraints.  Shortly thereafter you're glad for it in the remaining sane corner of your mind as you howl out threats of bloody murder with enough details to churn the stomach.  The others who have gathered, Cool, Flash and the Doc just stare at you with cold expressions,and suddenly you're weeping in deepest shame at the horrible thoughts bubbling up through your brain.

"It seems his 'hyperfocus' talent is amplifying this stage.  Only three more stages to go after this, my friend." Doc says patting you kindly on the shoulder while Flare strokes your hair, and you blubber.

Then suddenly you're shot through with a vision of glory.  Its like the material world has rolled back, and for one timeless moment you can see Heaven.

And then its gone.

And you're shaking like a leaf, but back in control of yourself.

"That was the quickest transition on record for that stage." Doc says.  "Now, we need to send the team to strike the Olympians hidden base.  I'd like to take you with us as the next three stages should not be so rough.  I'd say you're mostly through it."

PT

There is a universal law, all things are balanced.  If that was easy for you, then the others will in some way be harder...

It could be the Scriff.

It could indeed.  There is always a price.

Not if it was given as a gift as a result of the blessing.

There is always a price, even if it is paid by someone else.

Tom ignores the voice in the back of his head for now and nods, "Yes.  Well, if nothing else, perhaps I can cry them to death....I'll suit up and join you."

You join them, and Commander Cool sits down next to you.

"This is going to be rough. Doubly so for you.  Your senses are all atwitter right now, and we're going to be doing a hot landing."

You find out what the words 'hot landing' means.  It means getting to the ground--soonest.

The ship inverts and plunges fast enough that you start to gray-out and then your suit baloons around your legs forcing blood back up into your brain.

A fireball rages outside the window to your right as the ship pierces the atmosphere, and the thunder makes conversation even with the throat mikes impossible.

You've left your stomach back up in orbit, and if anything the speed of the dive seems to be increasing.

Cool grabs your arm, and points to a computer screen.

It reads.

"We're being fired on. Two missiles.  Looks like your info was correct."

PT

Missiles? What the heck was he supposed to do about Missile?

Pray

While I heartily advocate the power of Prayer, every fighter pilot who ever dodged anything from the beginning of time has done the same thing.

Fast

What?

This kind comes out only after much fasting

I'm not Fasting...

Start.  Sometimes the commitment to something is enough.  A man who keeps his word is a man who can get things done.  Honor is the power of the Spiritual realm.

Fair enough.  And the stakes were large enough.

Tom thought to himself...praying in his heart, "Lord we don't have much time...and for me the stakes are, as near I can tell only pain one way or another, but the battle which we are about to partake of decides the fate of an entire world....If you would cause that curse to be invoked now upon Zues and make him second guess his actions to divert those missiles in a seemingly cooincidental fashion it would be greatly appreciated.  I now begin this fast in hopes that you will hear my plea.  Thy will done in all things."

Suddenly the missiles lose their tracking and are evaded, but the roar of atmospheric impact lessens, and you find gravity shifting under your body.  And then a minute later, you're in zero gravity again.

The team leader comes back.

"We have a problem.  I'm not sure why the missiles went off course.  It looked like the controller tried to be too clever, and doublethought himself.  However, someone down there knew exactly how I would come in."

He sighs.

"Its possible to use the Sky Equations on individuals, even on second-order individuals if you're really good.  What you need is 1)A very limited question with hard limits on the freedom of action.  2)A lot of computer power and the skill to use it.  3)Deep knowledge of the individual you're targetting."

He sits down looking embarrassed.

"I use to date Circe back in the day.  My first steady girlfriend."

PT

"Thank God.  Chalk it up to a miracle.  Literally.  Well, random and unpredictable is something I do rather well...unfortunately I have absolutely no idea about 'how to come in' so I don't know how to be random...but given the nigh crazy thing you did when we dodged the freighter earlier, I think precision flying is not something you're going to have a problem with....so what I suggest that you do is pretend to fly away, and then 'hide' behind a civilian craft...which is something I'd expect they'd never expect you to do because it is in many ways completely insane or irresponsible...otherwise...if that's not an option...try coming in on a random vector approach...lets see...er....2342.342.1241.22.55."

Cool nods.

"Okay, I wouldn't have chosen those numbers. It might be enough.  But you come sit in the copilot seat just in case, k?"

They trade out pilots, and Cool begins to take your advice even though it grates him.  Then he stops.

"No, I can't hide behind a civilian. I'm a superhero. Granted its stupid, but we're not just about winning, but about winning in a way that will create an ethic of trust.  Better to lose and perhaps inspire followers than to win, and continue the savagery."

He looks over at you with a questioning glance as he maneuvers the shuttle in space.

PT

"I completely understand.  Its a mix.  I mean, the fate of the entire planet is at stake, but their lives are not in immediate danger.  I admit, if I was on my  own I would probably consider it more heavily, but I've been writing those columns...they probably have a sky profile on me so that's probably not the way to go anyway either...we need something even more random....something....like a roleplaying game....Time to become the Red Baron."

Tom grabs the controls and heads down again, acting exactly how the Red Baron would act, coming from the direction of the sun (relative to the position they're heading) and hugging the ground as close as he possibly can.

You rocket the ship down into the atmosphere and race over states in the blink of an eye, and somewhere between three and four missiles, you're never afterward sure how many fail to connect.  They keep assuming you're going to bob up, and instead you take the craft in for a landing.

More of a crash landing, but anyone that you can walk away from is a good one...

After the foam dissipates from inside the fuselage, you can see a parking lot that is empty of vehicles except for perhaps ten, and a small stone building lurched up against the side of a hill.

"The mythological entrance to the underworld was supposedly here." Cool mutters as he unbuckles.  A man emerges from the building.  He's holding some sort of heavy rifle like thing.

The team leader comes in behind you.

"If they do have a sky on you, its only partial. So lay on, McDuff.  Besides, this is an excellent initiation exercise for a new member."

He grins wickedly.

PT

You do realize, don't you, that your destiny doesn't lie with them....helping them, sure.  Allies even, but if you think you're here to merely be a superhero on an alien world think again.

You know as well as I do that I know that.  There is a priotity to what must be done, but we can't leave the Olympians in charge here.

Oh I know.  I was just reminding you.

You were just harrasing me.

Something like that.

Tom takes out one of the tangle grenades, "Right.  Do you think they have a back entrance? I mean, bad guys love back entrances.  I'd prefer to find that....the hidden entrance, or the vent or something.  I mean I know they're coming but still...there seem to be more of them than there are of us."

He silently prays and thanks the Lord for His Shield against the missiles.  He continues to pray for protection, prowess and guidance.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:56, Thu 02 Nov 2006.

Cool says.

"I'm pretty sure they have one, but I don't know where it is.  Do you want to send one of us to look for it, or all, or ....?"

The guy in the shed is advancing toward the grounded shuttle with his metallic rifle like thing out.

"Pulse laser.  Don't look at it as some of the light might leak through and blind you temporarily."  Flare says bouncing up and down like she wants to go out and tackle the guy with the 'rifle'.

PT

Just one guy advancing on the shuttle with a rifle? Can't we shoot some kind of vehicular weapon on him instead of wasting a person to do it?

"Splitting the party is a bad idea.  Elementary D&D 101.  We should all go and try to find the back door together, at least that's my thinking on the issue."

"We have space-based weapons, but only one anti-personal weapon, and since the pellet autocannon in the snap turret is in the belly of the shuttle we crash-landed, its not going to be much use."

They accept the rest of your plan.

PT

Well, if we can't take out the guy with the pulse laser easily, then I guess we have to tackle him though it smells like a trap.  Barring objection, I'll toss a foam grenade at him.

If we can't find an alternate entrance in 10-15 minutes, I will suggest that we go through the main shuttle port.

You dive out the topside hatch, and it is indeed a trap.  As soon as you show your head, the chameleon generator field the lead attacker was towing collapses, revealing three more attackers behind him.

Pulse laser beam flash out.  You feel like you're surrounded by the dessert suddenly as temperatures spike, and then the second beam hits home, and you're screaming as it burns through your suit.

The foam grenade goes out feebly, and lands somewhere near them.  Fwooooommm!  It encases one of them from head to toe, but the other three are still clear of it.

"Surrender!"

PT

Tom immediately brings up his energy reflective cape.

Right.  Glad I was able to soak that up before Flare was, but obviously these guys weren't aware of the others being here.  On the other hand, where there could be one chameleon generator, there could be a lot more.  Tom made a mental note to carpet bomb the area around a base he was assaulting and take a lot more of a hand tactically before hand, but lesson learned.

Tom will shout, "OKAYOKAYOKAY! Just don't hurt me! Please! That was so painful.  If I get up you promise you won't shoot?"

Tom then says over the subvocal mike, "Frag these fools please."

In the event that the others don't take action, and that he is not incinerated, he will spray the slippery stuff in their general direction. If the cape proves totally effective against them, he'll advance to rather close range to do so.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:56, Wed 08 Nov 2006.

They don't buy your plea for surrender, or mercy doesn't figure into their plans.  All four fire this time.  The first blast misses you, the second hits dazzling you a bit, the third slips around your cloak, and you wobble, and the fourth hits somewhere, you're not sure as you descend to the floor in a flaming haze of pain not even feeling your collision with the deck.

The deck seems to be moving, and Cool yells.

"I ran over them with the shuttle.I got them for you." Pause. "Whats his internal temperature?"

"121." Doc says as you feel your mind wandering. "And rising.  His outer bone structure is still dumping heat into his internal organs."  You see Flare standing behind the doc with her hand in her mouth, and she's weeping.

PT

Amazing. Not dead.  And yet they're acting like I will be. Not a good sign.

Tom intends to hang on as much as possible, but he can't automatically assume that he will be able to stay.  He tries to speak, "Look, I have no intention of leaving, but bring me my backpack." He grabs onto it with one hand, "but if I do, don't worry...I'll be back...but don't take any chances with these people.  Call in back up.  Call in a LOT more backup.  Even if you have to hire mercinaries to do it.  This is about the future of your people.  I'll accept the idea that there are some ethical boundaries that you don't want to cross, but at the same time, this is not a comic book.  You've seen the sky equations...the stakes are simply too high...overwhelming force with no chance of failure....be assured I've learned my lesson.  Take an example from it.  While I'm at it, please record what is happening to me and feed the telemetry into the computer....if I vanish, I need more information about how it works to come back."

Tom is going to fight to hang on.  He isn't sure how these Pulse Laser things work, but even if it is needless pain, he will not easily let go.  He considers prayer, and that will certainly help but....there is so much he doesn't know.  Something tells him that there is something he's missing...but he doesn't know what it is.

Then the thought occurs to him...the Lord already is helping him...He gave him a brain.

"If heat is the problem you need to get a heat sync...you've got to have coolant on this shuttle, liquid nitrogen or something....puncture flesh and tap it to the bones to chill them.  If you ...we...can regenerate after someone snapping our necks, then I'm sure I can get over a little internal organ damage....but hurry..."

**Again Lord, I have asked a lot, but I am entirely sure you can heal this....Just let them do it if it is thy will.**

Tom is fighting with every ounce of mental will that he has...but in the slight event that despite it all he starts having the weird dream like hallucinations that indicate the scriff, he tries to direct it like he did the last time....**Somewhere where many other Versers have been....I need to learn more about that community and Verser Lore.  A lot more.  But I'd rather stay here.**
This message was last edited by the player at 05:19, Thu 09 Nov 2006.

They get your backpack, and feed the data into your computer on what is happening.

Doc explains as he tries to cool you.

"Pulse lasers dump heat into the body along with other damage. You caught one in your central mass, and one in your rib cage.  The one in your rib cage is releasing heat into your central mass, and you're literally suffering overheating."

After that things get delirious as you slide into a heat stroke, although you do recognize the sorrowful face of the Doc after he jabs something into your arm, and the pain vanishes.  You spend the next couple minutes talking to your fifth grade English teacher about your articles you've written in this world.

And then things turn really trippy when lizards with hockey sticks show up to play soccer on the ceiling of your school auditorium with your head as the ball, and you're pretty sure you're out of there....

PT
For the next world it will be under "Day....ummmm, as soon as I think of it." and of course there's Deorbits: Post Ludum.

Day salutes the pizza he thinks may or may not be the friends he's leaving behind and says, "God Speed..." which probably comes out something like, "Abracapocus Income Tax!"