Dewar

[Eyreplenh]

So surreal to look up at the sky and see nothing but darkness even though you know that there's not a single cloud within miles. The darkness seems to hold infinite space and peace, but as I continue to look up, vertigo takes hold of me and tears that peace apart. I close my eyes, but that is only vaguely better; there has been little tranquility between me and the insides of my eyes for the last couple of years. My legs are starting to tremble just the slightest, a testament to the lenght of time that I have been standing here, on the top of the world. Or, as it were, the top of a tall building in Burg. Not the tallest, that would be to flash and presumptious, but tall enough. Tall enough to see, and to do. A faint wind touch the clothes that are draped around me, looking as though they have no real desire to be associated with my humble self, nudges them out and forward, over the drop that I know is there, right in front of me. Slowly, I open my eyes and direct them past the flowing cloth, down to the city. Bright lights glare against me, furious in their battle to push away the stars, and I look away. Slumping onto my backside, I hide my face in my hands.

[Buck]

Finally shying away from his pattern of recoil, he remembered his purpose. Why he had worn the long draping black cloth on that first day only two years ago. As if it were yesterday, he reviewed the series of events that lead him to his current situation. Standing on the precipice, keeping company with what presumably were the Masons renditions of gargoyles. Scanning the skies he kept an eye out for the target, remembering her name.

It was Julia, and it was only a chance meeting at the coffee shop that changed his life forever.

[dark fuschia]

Julia. She sure had me fooled. Whimsy little broad I had thought at that first meeting. The little pink hat perched on bright curls. The matching handbag and the matching giggle.

"Anyone sitting here sweetie?" She had asked in a voice which seemed to say "I'm dumber than houses built on sand, but ain't I a cutie?"

I heard my own voice stutter a welcome that also had strong sub-text. Something like "Oh yes oh yes oh yes." I would later discover who the dumb one really was. But at that moment I was just a kid fresh from my hometown, still marvelling that I could even afford to be sitting at a coffee joint on the high street. Marvelling even more that this little blonde wanted to sit by me. My first pay cheque was sitting in my pocket, right beside all my hopes and dreams of a new life.

She tumbled into the chair in that energetic bouncy way of hers, moving it right up close to me so I could see that she had the dumbest big brown eyes you ever saw.

"This place sure is fancy." she said, "buy me coffee and cake will you Johnny?"

"Dewar." I said, "The name is Dewar."

She smiled. Her eyes smiled. "Dewar." She said, and I sure did love to hear her say my name. "You're not from round here are you?"

[Buck]

"Nope, I'm from the east coast. This is my first visit into Burg."

Shaking my head, I couldn't help but laugh. It was a mirthless laugh and yet I still longed for that ditz of a woman. That Julia was most certainly not real, he learned that lesson. Recounting that conversation was a distraction however.

Looking down on Burg, his eyes finally sought what he was looking for. The zeppelin was hovering at only half altitude, no wonder he had trouble scouting it. Using a pocket scope, he took a closer peek at the occupants. This was the one, no doubt about it. The other blimps were tourist traps, going on a ride around the Burg skyway was part of the lure of visiting this statuesque city. Only from a mobile and aerial view can you bear witness to what makes this place so special, only from up here can you peer beyond the great wall, to the city's center.

He couldn't help himself, and he glanced yet again toward that bright glow. Now off limits, but the day it showed up he was only a couple blocks off. Sitting in that coffee shop, sipping his espresso and telling Julia about the tiny town he grew up in.

With a shiver, he wrapped his cloak around himself and started taking notes. No time for nonsense.

Two occupants in the main cabin, both uniformed and female
Only one pilot, same uniform, male
Seven cargo containers, no markings

Good, they had not made the delivery yet. He placed his writing book in the pocket of his pant leg and unbuttoned the cloak. With a self satisfying smirk for unnecessary flare, he started his sprint toward one the ledges.

[dark fuschia]

Joe Crane, my landlord in those days, had her number straight up. "Why you bring dat girl roun' here? She bad news dat type. You find yoself a good girl Dewar."

But by that time I actually believed Julia was a good girl. That's just how good she was. Every night we'd meet by that same old coffee shop. I can't even recall what we'd talk about, what we'd do together, but it was always fun. Fun was something new to a kid like me. I was used to working, schooling and the odd kicking. That was my life. I guess that's why I came to Burg. Julia showed me why I came, and my world became Julia. Back then, I was living Julia. In a way I still am.

Flick's voice crackled through on my mobile. "Where the frack are you Chumpy?" Chumpy was her code name for me. I didn't pick it.

"Picking up the chips Fatty. See you soon." She hadn't picked hers either.

[Amos]

The blimp I was after was an older model, a relic from the war that had ended only ten years ago. I'd only fought in the tail end myself. Fought in or over its ashes, after the real flames had already died away. We won, supposedly, but there'd been so much destruction that the real result seemed inconclusive to most people. Now I was working for the government, busting up smuggling rings. Regulating trade had become all but impossible, there just wasn't enough manpower, and the smugglers were vastly more motivated and much better armed as well. But the people in charge had to make a show of it. I didn't have the nerve to be a pirate so I'd joined in on the farce. Made just enough to eat and pay rent, and I was on the take as well.

Reconnaissance was my my official job but I always ended up playing a more direct hand in things, usually because there was no one else around to do what needed to be done. Half the time I screwed up, and twice I'd nearly been killed. Fatty had saved me both times. It wasn't just a code name by the way. Girl was large. Yet even though she was fat she moved like a snake. Unfortunately she also ate like one. Never chewed a goddamned thing that she ate. She claimed that she had sensitive gums but I think it must have been for psychological reasons. Just don't ask me what kind. Right then she was off active duty with a bowel infection or something, the antibiotics she'd been prescribed made her dizzy if she moved around too much, and I was praying even more fervently than usual that things would go my way.

[dark fuschia]

But things wouldn't go my way. They wouldn't today because they never did when Fatty called me at this stage of a job.

"You're late again," She said in that all too lovingly furious voice of hers, "Doggo just pulled in with a frack-load of chips."

"But I have a big one Fatty! Seven--" I stopped myself, remembering we were on the air. All the major smuggling rings had heavy air surveillance, "Seven -- chips just for you!"

"Just bring them in now you frackko. You know how hungry I get."

When I arrived at the Depo an hour later, wet from the rain and freezing my chumps off, I slapped my notes down on Fatty's desk. "Seven containers. All full of potatoes from the Ergenmeir fall out. The full delivery schedule and dock number is right there. Now Fatty." I couldn't hide the hopeless hope from my voice, "Tell me they ain't giving Doggo the docks."

"No can do Dewar. They already frackin sent him out. You're on roof duty another ten weeks." She took a large bite of her ever present chocolate bar.

"Say it isn't so!" I had been hoping for a go at dock patrol for a while now. It was equally dangerous work, but it was better pay, more prestige and less cold than the roof watch. Plus Doggo was one of the most unpleasant people in the Depo. Now he would be even more unpleasant.

Flick clucked sympathetically, "Aww Chumpy, I know it's gotta smart, specially with Doggo being a frackin gunt and all."

"You read my mind Flick." I said adoringly.

[Amos]

I'm sorry, I'm going off topic, but I can't keep her from intruding on my thoughts for even a whole page it seems. Again, this memory, it is back then, when we first meet. I can't help myself: I ask her what made her so confident about being able to charm me.

"I practised on guys before you."

"How do I know I'm not just another training partner then?"

There is no reason for me to think that.

"There is no reason for you to think that."

Julia, the real Julia, can read minds. This is one of the the secrets of her volatile charm. It is impossible to be around her without feeling like she's exploring your insides, but she looks at and speaks to people with such reassurance and warmth that she is also irresistable. An avatar of fearless, fluid attraction, but then sometimes she'll look at you as if you're changing before her eyes into a vulture. Or like she can no longer tell who or what you are. And she'll turn away, biting her lip, and stay in a kind of melancholy reverie, and wont return for any coaxing, she'll only come out of it in her own time. Beneath those stupid brown eyes of hers there is a sharp intelligence that sees through to our interiors where there are many animations ghosting in and out of the walls. That's how I imagine she must see it anyway. Like our insides are places of labyrinthine pathways leading to numberless rooms, enchanting gardens that nevertheless have their wasps' nests and their uncanny pathways that lead into the woods and back into a dark time. This is where she walks while her lips keep you in a sultry trance, her eyes half-hidden by the lowered brim of her floppy pink fedora, her hands lightly curled together into a single frond, hearing the faint and sad echoes behind your voice when you speak.

[dark fuschia]

And why do I keep returning to Julia? I have been skirting the issue haven't I. Yes, of course it's obvious I was once in love with her. Still in love with her? I don't know, but it's been two years since I last saw her. The day I put on the cloak of the Left Guard, that moment, I recall better than any.

There were her eyes. Betrayed. She rarely lost her temper, but that night, her warmth had become a fire of scorching flame. She said many things, all of them false except the last. "You'll never be one of them." She had shouted.

And then my words. Primed, gauged and discharged. "And I'll never be one of you."

She had stilled. Very suddenly the fire had left her, and she had said. "Just what exactly do you mean by that?"

"You know exactly what I mean." I replied, hating her. Hating her more for playing the innocent than for her guilt. "Goodbye." I had uttered, unable to believe it was myself I could hear talking, and then oddly, repeating myself. "Goodbye." I said again, and then I left.

[Buck]

I always did favor using a little dramatic flare when out on duty for the Left Guard. The original me never was like that, oddly enough. Some people changed a lot with the Burg Event and others none at all. Sure, all of us present in the city that fateful day two years ago gained some sort of ability but that didn't change our identity. Perhaps those of us weak in character are not in control of our actions and simply ride the wave of life from situation to situation? Scraping my beard and pondering my usual philosophy, I made my way to the port district's zeppelin tower and took the lift up to the station. It was well passed sunset, and well beyond quitting time. Not many were aboard the zeppelin.

I found myself a stool on the eastern side of the zeppelin and sat next to a woman in a grey long coat. We both sat and stared at the center's wall without paying each other any attention.

"Tonight you get a special job Dewar"

I reached under the counter and found a sealed envelope taped to its underside waiting for me.

"More bird watching?" I mused with as much a cheeky tone as I can deliver.

She actually turned toward me and glared, haha these people take their work way too seriously. She broke eye contact as if the wall was acting as a magnet on her eyes. Reluctantly, yet compelled, she stared at the wall again as she answered.

"Actually, you're in for a treat" Was that a hint of humor in her voice? Surely not! "Tonight you get to put your ability to use for a change, instead of just zipping about from rooftop to rooftop with that silly cloak of yours".

Yes, most certainly humor, but I wasn't laughing. I somberly flipped the envelope over and over in my hands as she quietly got up and walked out when we reached the next stop. I don't like using my ability, and with good reason. It's not some parlor trick or subtle tool. I frowned at the wall, and cursed the Burg Event. Not for the first time.

[sir archely]

Of course, we all like to put the blame somewhere. As long as it's not on us. The Burg Event probably had just as much effect on my relationship with Julia as that butterfly flapping its wings in Motan. Which is to say, maybe it did, and maybe it didn't, but how the hell would I know? It is a convenient excuse though.

When I Left, Julia went Right. Oddly enough, Julia, who could pull off any outfit, never looked very good in the uniform of the Right Guard. Maybe it was because it kept changing on her. More bars, stripes, pins and cords than I'd ever have by far. Maybe it was because the Right Guard had never had a woman enlist before. They could hardly turn her down after they saw what she could do though. They say we won the war, but they never explain who the we is. People come from all around to see the scars on Burg. They have their zep rides, and imagine the fires and smoke. Only this war could have become a tourist attraction. And those idiots ride around, take pictures of the monuments, and never see the real damage done by such a war. The destruction visited upon Burg's body was inflicted tenfold upon it's soul. Us I mean, if any of us still have souls. Left Guard, Right Guard, even ten years later we're still fighting the war. Except it's not official anymore. Since when did war have to be official?

A burst of static from my radio is the only thing that saves me from hiking down that well-worn trail of thought yet again. I've missed my normal zep stop. No matter, I'm getting off a different way tonight. A quick glance at the ground and I realize I've nearly missed my target too. So I open the window and jump out.

They should probably lock the windows on zeps.

[Eyreplenh]

Padding along towards the docks I mused on the contents of the envelope. Sure, Doggo was about the lowest piece of wormdirt that ever put on a shirt, but I didn't like this, not at all. What could he have been doing, anyway, to catch the eye of the High Command? What kind of mischief would order this direct... intereference?

As I closed in on the dock entrance I slowed down and took a moment to still my breathing. Going in there all flushed and excited would not do, oh no. I leaned against a wall and tried to look nonchalant. Not that it'd matter much, I figured. Not alot of people knew me down on the docks. Fucking rooftops. Taking a deep breath, I went round the corner that was the informal entry to the dock area. Speaking of people, there sure wasn't many of them around. Work of the Command? But I thought not. Closing off business at the docks for even a short time was too expensive by far.

I took a quick look around before I entered the hall where Doggo usually sat his lazy ass down during his shift. All my senses stood on edge as my eyes adjusted to the dark interior. It definitively should not be dark. The outline of a man became a solemn figure all in black standing with his hands by his side. Behind him, a prone figure. Around that figure, that fat and ugly figure, blood. Someone had beat me to Doggo. Just as well.

I gathered my wits and eloquently started an interrogation of the figure in front of me, uttering: what?! The figure raised his face to regard me, then lifted two fingers and pulled them from his eyes and down his cheeks. Unfortunately, I knew that gesture. Tears shed for violence to come. It was a priest.

[dark fuschia]

I returned the gesture, not just because mother had brought me up religious, but because it also bought me a further second to assess the situation. Run.

[Eyreplenh]

Cursing my lax attitude towards preparation, I flung the only thing I had in my hands at the priest. The envelope. I knew it was a weak move at best, but hopefully it would give me half a second to get out the door. If I got that far, I had a chance. I might not best the priest at his own religion, but I could run like a prayer.

I slammed out the door and threw myself to the right. It almost brought me out of balance, but after just a few paces I reached my top speed, and dodged corners, trying to get as much distance between myself and the violent priest inside. After two quick bursts between walls I was sure noone could be right on my heels, and I risked slowing my pace and gathering some information on the situation. Seeing a good hiding point, I jumped a crate and volted myself onto a low roof.

The docks was quiet as far as I could see, and noone in pursuit. Seemed I could have saved my boots the trouble. What the fuck just happened? Oh, right. I just gave a priest of war information that the High Command were going around picking out one of their own people. Damn all those inner city bags of shit. Now, who else but Julia would know I carried that envelope?

[dark fuschia]

Yelena watched the screen sorrowfully. Test subject five had already lost it only a week into testing. He had thrown an envelope in a defensive action, and seemed to have lost track of all causality. Not to mention this Julia person he kept referencing. An ex-lover she supposed. She was no part of the program at all, yet somehow he kept trying to bring her into the virtual world they had created. "We're bringing him out." She said decisively to her co-worker, Flick.

Flick frowned, "No way, he can do it. We have to give him a chance."

Yelena stared at Flick in disapointment. One of the characters in "the game", as they all called it, was her name-sake. But there the similarity ended. Flick was tall and graceful, and never, ever swore. The programmers liked to have their little jokes. "Look Flick, this is serious, we could lose him, just like the last. It's not too late to bring him out of it with his mind intact."

Flick shook her head, "He is our last chance! You saw the stats, he is the closest match we've had yet. If he can't cut it no one can."

"Then maybe no one can." I said, placing my hand on her shoulder gently, "I know you've put everything you have into this. Frack, we all have. But it was a long shot from the start Flick. Integrating a single soldiers mind with the entire drone force? We all knew the technology wasn't ready. We can't rush these things." I shook my head, "We need to start putting our resources into something more realistic."