The year is 2661.
Over the past 650 years the world has changed considerably. The human growth rate grew so fast that when the cities ended up taking over every spare but of land there was only one way to grow – up. The pressure of this immense growth caused every system of organised governments to fall, giving the mega-corporations opportunity to step in. The planet earth is now one large run-for-profit metropolis with four mile tall buildings stretching up into the skies. Fossil fuels were exhausted generations ago, which lead to the corporations turning to their only alternative – light. The upper levels of the metropolis were clad in solar panelling. Power became the new currency. Those who could generate the most power became the most influential members of society. A new societal hierarchy arose. Those living on the upper levels became a new aristocracy, ruling from their ivory tower, regarding those who lived on the lower levels as little more than ungifted minions. Eventually this xenophobia became so flagrant that it was built into the mega-corporations’ corporate policies, and the world was split in two. The upper levels were completely cut off from the lower levels. No-one came up, no one went down. The inhabitants of the lower levels were left to fend for their selves. Instead of going up, society went down. The Twilighters, as they came to call their selves, came to live in the sewers, living off whatever they could find, whereas the inhabitants of the upper levels carried on as normal, many not caring that they had sealed away their own kind to ensure their own survival and prosperity.
That was 150 years ago. The barrier between the levels has started to erode, and a group of Twilighter’s has come together in an effort to break through to the upper levels and make their ages-old plight heard…
Twilight: Story thread
Moderator: RJDiogenes
Twilight: Story thread
Last edited by Grim on March 7th, 2009, 3:35 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Re: Twilight: Story thread
150 years ago…
Elias Craulnober stared out of his office window, which was said to have one of the best in the world. And to be fair, it probably was. The way the sun’s caught the solar panels on the side of the neighbouring skyscrapers, the way the clouds floated below the walkways like a protective blanket. But the view was marred today. For today the reflection in the glass was not of a successful businessman, chairman of Yokohama industries, and convenor of the Grand Parliament, essentially the most powerful man on the planet. No, today the reflection showed the man who’d sacrificed a good portion of the human population to secure the lifestyle of those on the upper levels.
In his minds eye, he could see the work crews at work now, hastily erecting barricades and cutting off any access points at the point which the buildings were dubbed non-essential. He had no idea what the criteria were for meaning a level was “non-essential”, nor who had made the decision. Probably some analyst from Sapphire, the company which had introduced the proposal to Parliament in the first place. On the face of it, it made sense – the lower levels were a drain on power and provided little in return, so why not just cut them loose, so to speak. Of course, the shareholders of the various megacorporations who made up the Parliament had lapped that up, so the proposal was almost unanimously passed, and today was the day the “Grand Endeavour”, as it had become known was starting. Were any of the others, those who voted for the Endeavour, doing exactly what he was, Elias wondered. Did they realise what a huge mistake they had made? Did they realise that the ‘shrooms (as the inhabitants of the lower levels were now being colloquially referred to), no matter what popular entertainment vids made out, were still human. And humans did not take betrayal lying down. Maybe they wouldn’t come today, or tomorrow, or even in the next decade, but sooner or later they would be back for revenge. Sooner or later…
Now…
Life was a simple affair for Ruby. Wake up, start moving, find somewhere safe to sleep, repeat. Occasionally there was some stopping for food in there, but not that often, mainly because there just wasn’t that much to eat, at least if you liked being able to keep it down. Staying still, and living the simple life in one of the shanty towns or buildings just wasn’t an option. Ever since she was a small girl she’d had the urge to explore and find out more about the world, so as soon as she was old enough, that was what she did. She packed up her meagre possessions, and started walking, not stopping since.
Today she was (as she did fairly regularly) travelling down a fairly non-descript sewer tunnel which had nothing to differentiate it from the other thousands. But that was the thing which Ruby loved – you never knew. Sometimes a sewer would lead to settlement she’d never been to before and on quite memorable occasion lead to a sheer drop off the side of a cliff, which had required some quick thinking and exhilarating acrobatics to get out of.
As it turned out, this sewer led to a hub, which collected the “offerings” of several smaller sewers and made them in to one large one. But more interestingly, there was a barge moored in one corner, lights glowing from its windows. Naturally, Ruby crept closer to investigate, wondering just why this barge was here, miles away from what was laughingly called civilisation.
She shimmied stealthily onto the boat, hoping she didn’t cause it to rock too much. She could hear muffled voices coming from the large covered room which comprised much of the barge, but she couldn’t hear them well enough to make out what they were saying. Looking around she could see an open window in the roof, presumably for ventilation. The roof was not high, so she pulled herself onto the roof, and lay down flat, pulling herself towards the window. As the male voices grew clearer, what she heard astounded her.
“So saying we do manage to climb one of the towers, and that’s a big if, what do we do then? Just march up to the nearest person and ask to move our entire civilisation up the towers? We need force!”
“You’ll just have to trust me, I have a plan”
“You keep saying that, but does any one but you know any details of it! We need more from you if we’re going to risk our lives!”
“All in good time my good fel- Wait did anyone hear that?”
“No, hear what?”
“It sounded like something moving on the roof”
Crap! Obviously Ruby wasn’t quite as stealthy as she thought she was. She started to move backwards, to make her escape before the lunatics (as that’s what they obviously were – everybody knew you couldn’t climb the towers!) found her. But it was too little, too late. The obviously old rafters holding the roof up collapsed, sending her sprawling to the floor below.
She tried to raise her head, but it felt heavy and everything was blurry. All she heard before the world went black was the voice from before, the one which was shouting about climbing the towers.
“Well, well gentlemen, it looks like we have an uninvited guest…”
Elias Craulnober stared out of his office window, which was said to have one of the best in the world. And to be fair, it probably was. The way the sun’s caught the solar panels on the side of the neighbouring skyscrapers, the way the clouds floated below the walkways like a protective blanket. But the view was marred today. For today the reflection in the glass was not of a successful businessman, chairman of Yokohama industries, and convenor of the Grand Parliament, essentially the most powerful man on the planet. No, today the reflection showed the man who’d sacrificed a good portion of the human population to secure the lifestyle of those on the upper levels.
In his minds eye, he could see the work crews at work now, hastily erecting barricades and cutting off any access points at the point which the buildings were dubbed non-essential. He had no idea what the criteria were for meaning a level was “non-essential”, nor who had made the decision. Probably some analyst from Sapphire, the company which had introduced the proposal to Parliament in the first place. On the face of it, it made sense – the lower levels were a drain on power and provided little in return, so why not just cut them loose, so to speak. Of course, the shareholders of the various megacorporations who made up the Parliament had lapped that up, so the proposal was almost unanimously passed, and today was the day the “Grand Endeavour”, as it had become known was starting. Were any of the others, those who voted for the Endeavour, doing exactly what he was, Elias wondered. Did they realise what a huge mistake they had made? Did they realise that the ‘shrooms (as the inhabitants of the lower levels were now being colloquially referred to), no matter what popular entertainment vids made out, were still human. And humans did not take betrayal lying down. Maybe they wouldn’t come today, or tomorrow, or even in the next decade, but sooner or later they would be back for revenge. Sooner or later…
Now…
Life was a simple affair for Ruby. Wake up, start moving, find somewhere safe to sleep, repeat. Occasionally there was some stopping for food in there, but not that often, mainly because there just wasn’t that much to eat, at least if you liked being able to keep it down. Staying still, and living the simple life in one of the shanty towns or buildings just wasn’t an option. Ever since she was a small girl she’d had the urge to explore and find out more about the world, so as soon as she was old enough, that was what she did. She packed up her meagre possessions, and started walking, not stopping since.
Today she was (as she did fairly regularly) travelling down a fairly non-descript sewer tunnel which had nothing to differentiate it from the other thousands. But that was the thing which Ruby loved – you never knew. Sometimes a sewer would lead to settlement she’d never been to before and on quite memorable occasion lead to a sheer drop off the side of a cliff, which had required some quick thinking and exhilarating acrobatics to get out of.
As it turned out, this sewer led to a hub, which collected the “offerings” of several smaller sewers and made them in to one large one. But more interestingly, there was a barge moored in one corner, lights glowing from its windows. Naturally, Ruby crept closer to investigate, wondering just why this barge was here, miles away from what was laughingly called civilisation.
She shimmied stealthily onto the boat, hoping she didn’t cause it to rock too much. She could hear muffled voices coming from the large covered room which comprised much of the barge, but she couldn’t hear them well enough to make out what they were saying. Looking around she could see an open window in the roof, presumably for ventilation. The roof was not high, so she pulled herself onto the roof, and lay down flat, pulling herself towards the window. As the male voices grew clearer, what she heard astounded her.
“So saying we do manage to climb one of the towers, and that’s a big if, what do we do then? Just march up to the nearest person and ask to move our entire civilisation up the towers? We need force!”
“You’ll just have to trust me, I have a plan”
“You keep saying that, but does any one but you know any details of it! We need more from you if we’re going to risk our lives!”
“All in good time my good fel- Wait did anyone hear that?”
“No, hear what?”
“It sounded like something moving on the roof”
Crap! Obviously Ruby wasn’t quite as stealthy as she thought she was. She started to move backwards, to make her escape before the lunatics (as that’s what they obviously were – everybody knew you couldn’t climb the towers!) found her. But it was too little, too late. The obviously old rafters holding the roof up collapsed, sending her sprawling to the floor below.
She tried to raise her head, but it felt heavy and everything was blurry. All she heard before the world went black was the voice from before, the one which was shouting about climbing the towers.
“Well, well gentlemen, it looks like we have an uninvited guest…”
-
Captain Cisco
- Posts: 20247
- Joined: October 27th, 2004, 1:21 pm
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Re: Twilight: Story thread
"Mmmmm... That's crisp, baby," Stephen Dormin signed as he came up for air. The young, barely clothed woman sprawled in the back of his limo simply giggled.
"I love when you say that," she cooed.
"Hey, it's my catchphrase," Stephen said as he began idly lowering the thin stap of her blouse.
"Mmmmm..." She sighed. "I like it. I especially liked it when you shouted it to all those Glitzies surrounding the club. They ate it up. It was soooo cool!"
"And you are soooo hot!" Stephen whispered in her ear as he kissed her neck. "You were the hottest young thing at that club tonight. I couldn't take my eyes off you. And now... Now I can't keep my hands off you." He squeezed her firm, shapely ass.
The woman - Stephen was pretty sure her name was Amber - giggled again. "Do those Glitzies follow you everywhere?" She asked. Stephen thought she sounded eager. And why not? She probably figured being seen with him was her claim to sudden fame. And it probably would be - for a little while. At least until Stephen dropped her and moved on to the next skirt that caught his attention. But he'd show her a good time while it lasted. It was one of those things that went with being who he was.
His father, Vilhelm Dormin, was the Chairman of Dormin Mercantile and Enterprises - DoME - the parent company over a thousand subsidiaries, all of which made up the Dormin corporate empire: Property, energy production and distribution, food, merchandise, entertainment, and scores of other industries fell under the vast Dormin umbrella. Vilhelm Dormin was one of that tiny fraction of a percent of the population that ruled the world, and Stephen was his eldest child and heir-apparent to DoME.
At 27, Stephen hadn't yet settled into his expected role as corporate prince. While he held the nominal title of Vice President of Public Relations, he rarely ever spent time in the office, coming in for a few hours a month for meeting his father required him attend, or to make the occasional appearance for the sake of his staff. Instead, he still savored the lifestyle of the wealthy playboy. Leisure, parties, and other idle pursuits were his daily trade.
And Stephen was a notorious playboy at that. His extravagant parties, marathon clubbing, and sexual exploits were constant fodder for the media and the Glitzies who circled like vultures waiting for a juicy holo-op. The "leaking" of a sex vid he'd made with a couple of his girlfriends had sky-rocketed him to the front of every holo publication on the planet, and his fame soared with it. Stephen was at the top of the A-list, a "must have" for club openings, premiers, or other social events.
Being the son of DoME's Chairman also meant that Stephen usually got whatever he wanted. When he wanted to try singing, DoME's recording company released his album. When he wanted to try acting, DoME's holo-vid studios found roles for him. There was no demand that someone, somewhere in DoME couldn't fulfill. Houses, cars, drugs, women - all were his at his command. And he reveled in it.
"Yeah, baby," Stephen replied. "Everywhere I go. Can't even sunbathe by my own pool without a couple of those Glitzies climing the wall and snapping those holos, much less go out in public. Hameras clicking everywhere I go. Especially now..."
"You mean the Chloe Mitciv thing?" Amber asked.
"Yeah," Stephen said. He frowned slightly at the memory. Chloe Mitciv had been one of his more notable girlfriends. She was one of the hottest young pop singers on the planet - sexy, talented, and tempermental. Their relationship had been the stuff of the tabloids' wet dreams - exciting, glamorous, explosive. The two of them were famous for their public and extremely graphic disagreements, and their even more explicit public reconcilliations. It was drama. The public liked drama, and the media gave the people what they wanted. And when Chloe was found dead in her apartment after one of their more spectacular disagreements, that was drama of nearly biblical proportions.
His family hadn't been happy, of course. While they tolerated his dalliances and playboy lifestyle, Chloe Mitciv's death was a scandal that might bring harm to the Dormin family name and to DoME itself. While Vilhelm had immediately quashed any investigation into Stephen's possible involvement with Chloe's death, there was no way he could entirely silence the buzz it had generated. After all, the highly profitable tabloid wing of Dormin Publishing thrived on that sort of thing, and holo-pub sales had never been higher. So silencing them would have harmed the company even more than letting the scandal run.
Still the family had tried to get Stephen to tone things down. He remembered Dakota, his younger sister, calling him into her office at DoME and practically begging him to reduce his public appearances. Dakota was Vice President of Operations and took her role - both in the business and in the family - very seriously. Stephen had been out partying two night after Chloe's death and behaving as if nothing had happened. That had shocked many, including the family, and Dakota had pleaded with him to stop before the Dormin name was irreparably tarnished. Stephen had merely laughed at his sister (he recalled that he'd called her a "humorless bitch"), walked out of the office, and immediately proceeded to MC the grand opening of a new club. While no one else confronted him directly, he knew the grumbling among his family continued.
"There are some people who think you did it," Amber whispered while running her fingers through Stephen's thick blond hair.
"Do you think I did it?" Stephen asked.
"What do you think?" Amber leaned in and kissed him passionately. Stephen didn't honestly know what to think of that answer, but he certainly enjoyed it. It probably didn't matter to her one way or the other either. He figured she was using him as much as he was using her. He was getting some seriously hot ass. And dating him would likely land her a lucrative career modeling for "Skintight" or any of the other flesh-peddling holo-pubs DoME published. It was a win-win.
"What's going on there?" Amber pulled away suddenly and pointed.
Stephen turned to look out the window. There he saw some DoME Security guys struggling with several pale-skinned individuals. Stephen sneered, and said with distaste, "They look like Shrooms."
Amber gasped in shock, but then giggled. "I've never seen Twilighters before. But, I didn't think Twilighters were allowed to come up here? How do you think they got up here?"
"Who cares?" Stephen shrugged. "Doesn't matter anyway. DoME-Sec's got'em. Like you said - damn Shrooms aren't supposed to be up here."
"I hear they don't like to be called that," Amber said.
"Who cares what they like? Besides, 'Shrooms" is a good name for them. Always in the dark and knee-deep in our shit." He laughed. Amber laughed too, and then pulled him closer and kissed him deeply. "Mmmmmmmm... crisp!" Stephen said again.
"Wanna know what else is crisp," Amber asked. She guided his hand up her thigh until he could feel what wasn't there.
"Damn!" Stephen exclaimed. Amber pushed him back until he was lying across the back seat. As she straddled him, Stephen just smiled, relaxed, and let her do what she wanted. As she did, a sense of dreamy well-being came over him. He felt a little sleepy, but it was all right. After all, he'd been partying hard, the limo was extremely comfortable, and Amber knew what she was doing. By the time Amber was finished, he could barely keep awake.
He felt Amber cuddle up beside him and smiled in sleepy satisfaction. "Yeah, baby. That was crisp," he murmered.
He felt Amber's warm, moist breath in his ear as she whispered, "Did you like that, Stephen?"
Stephen, barely conscious now, muttered, "Yeah. You are a hot screw."
As he drifted off to sleep, the last thing he heard was Amber's whispered reply: "That's right, baby. And you're about to get screwed again..."
----------
"Where the hell am I?!" Stephen demanded. "And why can't I see?"
"Just calm down, hon, and we'll get you -"
"No, I will not calm down!" Stephen shouted. "Don't you know who I am?"
"No, honey." The voice that answered him was female and had a coarse, unpleasant accent. "You didn't have any ID when they brought you in."
"I am Stephen Alexander Dormin," Stephen declared.
A snort from another direction. "Oooooh. Sounds like a Daisy!" Raucous laughter followed.
"Hush, Walt! Sid!" the female voice scolded. "Look at him. Whoever he is, he is a Daisy."
"What did you call me?" Stephen demanded. "Look, I'm not into guys. OK, there was that one time... But the chick was hot and she wanted us both, and-"
"A Daisy," the female voice interrupted, "is short for Daysider. You are one, aren't you?"
Stephen didn't answer at first. He was struck by what the woman had just said. Yes, it was definitely a woman. His eyes were finally adjusting to the dim light and he could make out her shadowy form.
"Are you telling me that I'm in Shroomland?" Stephen asked, aghast. He heard a menacing growl behind him.
"Easy, Walt," the woman warned. "He's in shock. Doesn't know what he's sayin'..."
"Not gonna stand here and let some prissy little Daisy insult us," the man that Stephen could only assume was "Walt" said. The one that might have been "Sid" stood close by.
"Walt, Sid, wait outside!" the woman commanded.
"But Marie, he-"
"I said, outside!"
Stephen could feel the glares the men gave him, even if he couldn't quite see them. He shuddered slightly. When they were gone, he saw the woman set her hands on her hips in what appeared to be a stern fashion.
"You'd better watch what you say," the woman - Marie - said. "Some folks down here in Twilight don't take kindly t' bein' called 'Shrooms.'"
Stephen snorted. "Whatever."
"I'm serious," Marie cautioned. "Good way t' get a knife in your belly, you say it t' the wrong sort."
"WhatEVER!" Stephen retorted. He sensed a frown from the way Marie suddenly folded her arms. After a moment, she sat down behind a desk.
"I'm Marie Roivas. You should sit down," Marie suggested. "We have t' talk."
Stephen saw the silhouette of a stiff folding chair facing the desk. Gingerly, he shuffled toward it and sat.
"Good," Marie said. "So you aren't completely blind."
"What do you mean?" Stephen asked with sudden concern.
"Some Dais- I mean - Daysiders, they come down t' Twilight, they can't see a darn thing," Marie explained. "I'm told it has something t' do with all the light up there on Dayside. More than normal - constant. You know what I mean."
Stephen shrugged. It was true that Dayside was brightly lit almost all the time. Sunlight shined in the day and was collected as a primary means of generating power (he'd learned something of his father's business!). Then at night, the cities shone with all sorts of generated lights. It was never truly "dark" up Dayside.
"So the way I'm told," Marie continued, "people up there never experience dark, and never have for hundreds of years. Guess your eyes just adapted t' all that light. It's the opposite for us. We don't get much light down here, so our eyes have adjusted so we can see clearly in what little we do get. That's why you all have so much trouble when you come down here. 'Course, some of you do better 'n others." She nodded at him.
"I still can't see very well," Stephen protested. "All I see are shadows."
"Still better 'n some I seen," Marie said. She nodded suddenly. "All right. You got questions. So ask 'em and I'll try 'n answer 'em."
Stephen barely knew where to start. He blurted. "Where am I?"
"I told you darlin', you're in Twilight," Marie lilted.
"I know that, you dumb Shr- lady. I mean, what is this place? And who are you?"
Marie didn't seem to notice the aborted insult, or, if she had, she had chosen to ignore it. "This is Saint Bernadine of Siena mission, hon. We help the poor, homeless, all those who need a helping hand - like you obviously do."
"I am NOT poor!" Stephen protested.
"All right, hon. All right," Marie said soothingly. "Anyway, you were brought in here about two days ag-"
"WHAT?!" Stephen leapt from his seat. "I've been down here two days? I... I don't remember... HOW?!"
Marie beckoned him to sit, and Stephen, now shaking, resumed his seat.
"I really don' know the answer t' that, sweetie," Marie said softly. "All I know is a couple of my guys found you wanderin' through the streets. You weren' makin' much sense. Lot o' folks thought you were crazy. But when they brought you in here we found you had a fever. You finally come out of it this mornin', and that's when I asked t' see you. What's the last thing you remember before this?"
Stephen nodded. "I'd picked up this really smokin' young thing at a club. We were in my limo, and things had gotten pretty hot, you know? She'd just finished-" Stephen suddenly felt uncomfortable telling this strange women the details of his tryst with Amber. "Well, let's just say we had a good time. I was tired, I guess from all the alcohol and partying and stuff. So I guess I fell asleep. When I woke up, I was in Shroo- I mean - here."
"And you don' know anythin' that happened between then and now?" Marie asked.
Stephen shook his head. "Damn... My family was pissed before. Man they are really gonna freak when they find out I ended up down here - especially if word leaks out and the Glitzies catch me on hamera." Then he brightened. "But MAN! That's gonna seriously boost my publicity! That's CRISP!" While he couldn't see Marie's face, the tilt of her head indicated confusion. He shrugged. "Never mind that. Just tell me how I can contact Dayside. I need to get out of - why are you shaking your head?"
"You can't." Marie said.
"Can't what?"
"You can't contact Dayside," Marie went on. "There's no communication between Twilight and Dayside, at least, none that Dayside doesn' make first."
"I don't follow," Stephen said.
"Honey - Stephen - you did say it was Stephen, right?"
Stephen nodded.
"Stephen, there's no way t' get out of Twilight."
Stephen shook his head. "That's nuts. Of course there's a way out."
Marie shook her head.
"But... There has to be!" Stephen exclaimed.
"I'm sorry, Stephen," Marie said. "Access between Twilight and Dayside was sealed off a hundred and fifty years ago." Her voice turned bitter. "Guess the Daysiders didn't want us 'Shrooms' - as you call us - sharing in the wealth. Now we just get the scraps from the master's table, and aren't allowed t' come up and ask for more. Heck, not even allowed t' come up and see what we're missin'."
"But I've seen Shr - Twilighters! - up there," Stephen argued. "Hell, I saw them up there that night with Amber."
Marie nodded. "And where did you see them?"
"Some DoME security guys had rounded them up"
"Exactly," Marie said. "Sometimes, a few Twilighters will find a way up - holes in the seal between Twilight and Dayside. But never many and never for long. Dayside security is very careful t' seal any breaches. And as you can imagine, a Twilighter would sort of 'glow in the dark' up there, so they'd be easy t' find."
"It's never dark up there," Stephen said. "And they weren't glowing."
Marie laughed. "Just a figure of speech. What I mean is, since we don't get sunlight down here, we're a pretty pale bunch. We stand out among all you nicely darkened specimens. Just like you stand out down here."
"There had to be a way out," Stephen insisted. "Someone brought me here."
"True," Marie agreed. "But it's easier t' get into Twilight than it is t' get out. You have t' have special codes and ID t' get back and forth."
"My father is Vilhelm Dormin," Stephen said. "All I have to do is show my ID..." He reached into his pocket but his wallet was missing. "Where's my wallet?" he demanded.
"You didn' have a wallet when they brought you in," Marie said. "You didn' have anythin' on you that identified you."
Stephen slumped in his chair. "No money, no ID..." he whined. Then he rallied. "Surely someone will recognize me!"
"Who?"
"I'm famous," Stephen continued. "Someone will."
"No one will," Marie said firmly. "Not down here."
"We'll see about that," Stephen challenged. "Now are you going to help me or what?"
Marie sighed. "That's what I'm tryin' t' do."
"I'm hungry too."
"We'll get you somethin' t' eat," Marie responded. "But first, we need t' get you some lenses."
"What?"
"Lenses," Marie said. "We can fit 'em over your eyes t' help you see better." She held up a pair of frames that contained thick, holo-screen-like lenses.
"You're kidding, right?"
Marie shook her head.
"I'm going to look ridiculous!" Stephen protested.
"But you'll be able t' see."
"No way!"
"Just try 'em, damn it!" Marie shouted.
Stephen was taken aback. Until now, though her accent was coarse, the tone of Marie's voice had been soothing and calm. The sudden flash of fire and temper was shocking, and Stephen found himself startled into obedience.
He put took the proffered lenses and afixed them - with a little assistance - to his eyes. Immediately he began blinking and his eyes began watering from the sudden increase in brightness. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but when they did, though the light level was still dimmer than he was used to, at least he could see more clearly. He smiled.
"Wow..." he whispered.
"Told you," Marie said with a smug lilt.
Stephen focused on her, and was surprised at what he saw. Though her voice sounded mature and careworn, Marie appeared to be no older than him. Her almost colorless face was pretty, and was framed by sandy hair that hung just above her shoulders. Her bright blue eyes were large, but not unattractively so. She was shorter than him by almost a foot, and, while her thickly layered clothing didn't allow him a glimpse of her figure, she seemed trim and fit. In all, she was not what he expected. Moreover, the look on his face must have told on him because Marie laughed mirthfully.
"Don't look so shocked, Stephen," she said. "We're not trolls down here."
"That's crisp...," Stephen breathed. He looked around and discovered that he was in a cluttered, but well-kept office. Books lined the walls, and papers covered the desk. He could see the dimly lit lamps overhead that provided the inadequate (to him) illumination. He turned back to Marie and studied her some more.
"All right, that's enough starin'," Marie declared with a laugh and a slight blush.
"Why? I like what I see so far," Stephen said flirtatiously. "Wouldn't mind seeing more..."
Marie gasped in shock. "That may work with the girls up Dayside, Stephen," she replied primly. "But girls down here in Twilight aren't so easy."
"I'll remember that," Stephen said with a wink. "I like a challenge."
Marie shook her head disapprovingly. "Time t' get you somethin' t' eat."
-----------
Stephen looked at the unappetizing mass that had just been ladeled into his bowl. "This is food?"
"Finest quisine Saint Bernadine of Siena can provide," Marie said wryly. "Cream of yeast, mushrooms - don't make the obvious joke - and a little bit of meat."
Stephen tried not to gag. "I don't eat meat," he said. "Don't you have any fruit? Maybe a salad?"
Marie laughed, and so did the others gathered in the crowded dining area. "Darlin', we don't get any sunlight down here, remember?"
"So?"
"Lord have pity," one of the kitchen staff chuckled. "Don't they teach you Daisies anythin'?"
Stephen has no idea what she was talking about or why she found his question so amusing. "They teach us stuff," Stephen replied sarcastically. "Like how to bathe..."
Instead of being a stinging rebuke, his response elicited another round of raucous laughter.
"Well, if that's higher learnin' Dayside," the kitchen worker quipped, "Then I'd rather stink."
Again the diners erupted in laughter.
"That's enough," Marie commanded. At that, the laughter subsided into a low buzz of conversation. She led Stephen to a table in a corner and they both sat down.
"What's so funny?" Stephen sulked.
"I'm sorry, Stephen," Marie said. "That was unkind of me. But don't you know that plants need sunlight to live? As you've seen, there's no sunlight down here. So, no plants. That means no fruit, no salads, no vegetation of any kind. We eat what thrives in the damp and the dark."
"And what's that?"
"Fungus, like the mushrooms in your bowl; We grow yeast cultures in vats and they provide the bulk of our food supplies. And sometimes, when we can get it, meat."
Stephen shook his head. "What kind of meat thrives in the dark?"
"Sure you want t' know?"
Stephen looked down at his bowl and felt sick. "I don't think I'm hungry anymore."
"Well, you'd better get over it," Marie scolded him. "You'll starve t' death down here if you don't."
"I'm not planning to stay," Stephen said stubbornly.
Marie sighed. "Stephen, I already told you there's no way out of here. No matter who you say you are - and Lord knows, I don't know anything about your Daysider society - unless you can prove it, no one is letting you Dayside."
"Someone will recognize me," Stephen insisted. "And when they do they'll get me out of here."
"You're assumin' they'll want to get you out," Marie said thoughtfully.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Marie shrugged. "Someone put you here, Stephen. You didn't get down here yourself. I saw you when they brought you in, and you were in no condition to button your trousers let alone get through the seals between Dayside and Twilight. No, someone brought you here, took all your money and identification, and abandoned you here. Now if someone went through all that trouble, what makes you think they didn't take measures to make sure you couldn't get back?"
Stephen hadn't thought of it that way. He'd assumed he'd had a reaction to one of the new designer drugs he'd sampled at the club, or had had too much to drink, and then had wandered in a stupor down to Twilight by accident. Or maybe that slut Amber had thought it would be a funny practical joke. He hadn't considered that someone might have done it with malicious intent.
Stephen pushed the bowl away and lay his face in his hands. Who would do something like this? he wondered. Why would someone dump me down here with all the Shrooms? It doesn't make sense! What possible reason would someone have... Stephen felt ice in his belly as a possible motive presented itself. No, it couldn't be!
"Are you all right?" Marie asked, concern in her voice.
"Huh?" Stephen looked up, startled out of his train of thought.
"I said, are you all right?"
"Am I all right?!" Stephen exclaimed. "What do you think? Of course I'm not! I'm trapped down here!" An involuntary sob escaped him and he bit his fist to hold back the tears that were stinging his eyes. He saw a look of pity on Marie's face, and she reached across the table and took his hand.
"I'm sorry," she said softly.
"You have to help me," Stephen pleaded. His voice shook. "Marie, I don't want to die down here. This place is horrible. I have to get back up Dayside. Please. I'll do anything. My father is Chairman of DoME. My family is very rich. VERY rich! I can give you whatever you want. Just please, you have to help me!"
"I'm sorry, Stephen," Marie repeated. "But I can't. There's no way-"
"BULLSHIT!" Stephen screamed as he pounded the table. "There has to be a way!"
"Keep your voice down!"
"No, damn it! I'm Stephen Alexander Dormin, and I will NOT be left to rot in this stinking shit-hole with you Shrooms."
Stephen was startled when Marie leaped from her seat, came round the table, grabbed him by the arm, and physically dragged him out of the dining area. When they were in an alcove off the hallway, she shoved him against the wall. He could see fire in her eyes.
"Oh ho! so you like it rough, Marie?" Stephen sneered. "I thought you said you Shroom sluts weren't eas-"
The sting of her slap rattled him.
"All right, you," she hissed. "That's enough of that. Now listen." There was iron in her voice. "I want to help you, and callin' me names is no way t' thank me. You're here. Get over it! I don't know how it is with you Daisies, but down here you need friends t' survive. I'm will t' be one o' those friends, but you have t' stifle that foul mouth o' yours. Got it?"
Stephen was too shocked to respond.
"Now," Marie hesitated. Taking a deep breath, she went on. "You're right. There may be a way out o' here-"
"HA!"
"-BUT! It's only a rumor. I didn't want t' say anythin' in front o' the others, so as not t' get 'em in trouble if trouble comes 'cause of it. I've been hearin' it lately amongst some friends I have, say they stumbled upon some forgotten route to Dayside. Not sure o' the details but what little I heard it sounded dangerous. Now, no offense t' you, but you're hardly in a position to survive here at St. Bernadine's. I think some excursion though Lord-only-knows-where may be a wee bit out o' your league."
"But..."
"But..." Marie shook her head and gave him a wry smile. "You look so darned miserable. And I can't have you cussin' and name callin' around my mission! So... I'll look into it for you."
"That's - That's CRISP!" Stephen cried, relieved.
"Don't know what that means or why you keep sayin' it," Marie chuckled. "All right. No promises, Stephen Alexander Dormin. I'll look into it. But no promises..."
"I love when you say that," she cooed.
"Hey, it's my catchphrase," Stephen said as he began idly lowering the thin stap of her blouse.
"Mmmmm..." She sighed. "I like it. I especially liked it when you shouted it to all those Glitzies surrounding the club. They ate it up. It was soooo cool!"
"And you are soooo hot!" Stephen whispered in her ear as he kissed her neck. "You were the hottest young thing at that club tonight. I couldn't take my eyes off you. And now... Now I can't keep my hands off you." He squeezed her firm, shapely ass.
The woman - Stephen was pretty sure her name was Amber - giggled again. "Do those Glitzies follow you everywhere?" She asked. Stephen thought she sounded eager. And why not? She probably figured being seen with him was her claim to sudden fame. And it probably would be - for a little while. At least until Stephen dropped her and moved on to the next skirt that caught his attention. But he'd show her a good time while it lasted. It was one of those things that went with being who he was.
His father, Vilhelm Dormin, was the Chairman of Dormin Mercantile and Enterprises - DoME - the parent company over a thousand subsidiaries, all of which made up the Dormin corporate empire: Property, energy production and distribution, food, merchandise, entertainment, and scores of other industries fell under the vast Dormin umbrella. Vilhelm Dormin was one of that tiny fraction of a percent of the population that ruled the world, and Stephen was his eldest child and heir-apparent to DoME.
At 27, Stephen hadn't yet settled into his expected role as corporate prince. While he held the nominal title of Vice President of Public Relations, he rarely ever spent time in the office, coming in for a few hours a month for meeting his father required him attend, or to make the occasional appearance for the sake of his staff. Instead, he still savored the lifestyle of the wealthy playboy. Leisure, parties, and other idle pursuits were his daily trade.
And Stephen was a notorious playboy at that. His extravagant parties, marathon clubbing, and sexual exploits were constant fodder for the media and the Glitzies who circled like vultures waiting for a juicy holo-op. The "leaking" of a sex vid he'd made with a couple of his girlfriends had sky-rocketed him to the front of every holo publication on the planet, and his fame soared with it. Stephen was at the top of the A-list, a "must have" for club openings, premiers, or other social events.
Being the son of DoME's Chairman also meant that Stephen usually got whatever he wanted. When he wanted to try singing, DoME's recording company released his album. When he wanted to try acting, DoME's holo-vid studios found roles for him. There was no demand that someone, somewhere in DoME couldn't fulfill. Houses, cars, drugs, women - all were his at his command. And he reveled in it.
"Yeah, baby," Stephen replied. "Everywhere I go. Can't even sunbathe by my own pool without a couple of those Glitzies climing the wall and snapping those holos, much less go out in public. Hameras clicking everywhere I go. Especially now..."
"You mean the Chloe Mitciv thing?" Amber asked.
"Yeah," Stephen said. He frowned slightly at the memory. Chloe Mitciv had been one of his more notable girlfriends. She was one of the hottest young pop singers on the planet - sexy, talented, and tempermental. Their relationship had been the stuff of the tabloids' wet dreams - exciting, glamorous, explosive. The two of them were famous for their public and extremely graphic disagreements, and their even more explicit public reconcilliations. It was drama. The public liked drama, and the media gave the people what they wanted. And when Chloe was found dead in her apartment after one of their more spectacular disagreements, that was drama of nearly biblical proportions.
His family hadn't been happy, of course. While they tolerated his dalliances and playboy lifestyle, Chloe Mitciv's death was a scandal that might bring harm to the Dormin family name and to DoME itself. While Vilhelm had immediately quashed any investigation into Stephen's possible involvement with Chloe's death, there was no way he could entirely silence the buzz it had generated. After all, the highly profitable tabloid wing of Dormin Publishing thrived on that sort of thing, and holo-pub sales had never been higher. So silencing them would have harmed the company even more than letting the scandal run.
Still the family had tried to get Stephen to tone things down. He remembered Dakota, his younger sister, calling him into her office at DoME and practically begging him to reduce his public appearances. Dakota was Vice President of Operations and took her role - both in the business and in the family - very seriously. Stephen had been out partying two night after Chloe's death and behaving as if nothing had happened. That had shocked many, including the family, and Dakota had pleaded with him to stop before the Dormin name was irreparably tarnished. Stephen had merely laughed at his sister (he recalled that he'd called her a "humorless bitch"), walked out of the office, and immediately proceeded to MC the grand opening of a new club. While no one else confronted him directly, he knew the grumbling among his family continued.
"There are some people who think you did it," Amber whispered while running her fingers through Stephen's thick blond hair.
"Do you think I did it?" Stephen asked.
"What do you think?" Amber leaned in and kissed him passionately. Stephen didn't honestly know what to think of that answer, but he certainly enjoyed it. It probably didn't matter to her one way or the other either. He figured she was using him as much as he was using her. He was getting some seriously hot ass. And dating him would likely land her a lucrative career modeling for "Skintight" or any of the other flesh-peddling holo-pubs DoME published. It was a win-win.
"What's going on there?" Amber pulled away suddenly and pointed.
Stephen turned to look out the window. There he saw some DoME Security guys struggling with several pale-skinned individuals. Stephen sneered, and said with distaste, "They look like Shrooms."
Amber gasped in shock, but then giggled. "I've never seen Twilighters before. But, I didn't think Twilighters were allowed to come up here? How do you think they got up here?"
"Who cares?" Stephen shrugged. "Doesn't matter anyway. DoME-Sec's got'em. Like you said - damn Shrooms aren't supposed to be up here."
"I hear they don't like to be called that," Amber said.
"Who cares what they like? Besides, 'Shrooms" is a good name for them. Always in the dark and knee-deep in our shit." He laughed. Amber laughed too, and then pulled him closer and kissed him deeply. "Mmmmmmmm... crisp!" Stephen said again.
"Wanna know what else is crisp," Amber asked. She guided his hand up her thigh until he could feel what wasn't there.
"Damn!" Stephen exclaimed. Amber pushed him back until he was lying across the back seat. As she straddled him, Stephen just smiled, relaxed, and let her do what she wanted. As she did, a sense of dreamy well-being came over him. He felt a little sleepy, but it was all right. After all, he'd been partying hard, the limo was extremely comfortable, and Amber knew what she was doing. By the time Amber was finished, he could barely keep awake.
He felt Amber cuddle up beside him and smiled in sleepy satisfaction. "Yeah, baby. That was crisp," he murmered.
He felt Amber's warm, moist breath in his ear as she whispered, "Did you like that, Stephen?"
Stephen, barely conscious now, muttered, "Yeah. You are a hot screw."
As he drifted off to sleep, the last thing he heard was Amber's whispered reply: "That's right, baby. And you're about to get screwed again..."
----------
"Where the hell am I?!" Stephen demanded. "And why can't I see?"
"Just calm down, hon, and we'll get you -"
"No, I will not calm down!" Stephen shouted. "Don't you know who I am?"
"No, honey." The voice that answered him was female and had a coarse, unpleasant accent. "You didn't have any ID when they brought you in."
"I am Stephen Alexander Dormin," Stephen declared.
A snort from another direction. "Oooooh. Sounds like a Daisy!" Raucous laughter followed.
"Hush, Walt! Sid!" the female voice scolded. "Look at him. Whoever he is, he is a Daisy."
"What did you call me?" Stephen demanded. "Look, I'm not into guys. OK, there was that one time... But the chick was hot and she wanted us both, and-"
"A Daisy," the female voice interrupted, "is short for Daysider. You are one, aren't you?"
Stephen didn't answer at first. He was struck by what the woman had just said. Yes, it was definitely a woman. His eyes were finally adjusting to the dim light and he could make out her shadowy form.
"Are you telling me that I'm in Shroomland?" Stephen asked, aghast. He heard a menacing growl behind him.
"Easy, Walt," the woman warned. "He's in shock. Doesn't know what he's sayin'..."
"Not gonna stand here and let some prissy little Daisy insult us," the man that Stephen could only assume was "Walt" said. The one that might have been "Sid" stood close by.
"Walt, Sid, wait outside!" the woman commanded.
"But Marie, he-"
"I said, outside!"
Stephen could feel the glares the men gave him, even if he couldn't quite see them. He shuddered slightly. When they were gone, he saw the woman set her hands on her hips in what appeared to be a stern fashion.
"You'd better watch what you say," the woman - Marie - said. "Some folks down here in Twilight don't take kindly t' bein' called 'Shrooms.'"
Stephen snorted. "Whatever."
"I'm serious," Marie cautioned. "Good way t' get a knife in your belly, you say it t' the wrong sort."
"WhatEVER!" Stephen retorted. He sensed a frown from the way Marie suddenly folded her arms. After a moment, she sat down behind a desk.
"I'm Marie Roivas. You should sit down," Marie suggested. "We have t' talk."
Stephen saw the silhouette of a stiff folding chair facing the desk. Gingerly, he shuffled toward it and sat.
"Good," Marie said. "So you aren't completely blind."
"What do you mean?" Stephen asked with sudden concern.
"Some Dais- I mean - Daysiders, they come down t' Twilight, they can't see a darn thing," Marie explained. "I'm told it has something t' do with all the light up there on Dayside. More than normal - constant. You know what I mean."
Stephen shrugged. It was true that Dayside was brightly lit almost all the time. Sunlight shined in the day and was collected as a primary means of generating power (he'd learned something of his father's business!). Then at night, the cities shone with all sorts of generated lights. It was never truly "dark" up Dayside.
"So the way I'm told," Marie continued, "people up there never experience dark, and never have for hundreds of years. Guess your eyes just adapted t' all that light. It's the opposite for us. We don't get much light down here, so our eyes have adjusted so we can see clearly in what little we do get. That's why you all have so much trouble when you come down here. 'Course, some of you do better 'n others." She nodded at him.
"I still can't see very well," Stephen protested. "All I see are shadows."
"Still better 'n some I seen," Marie said. She nodded suddenly. "All right. You got questions. So ask 'em and I'll try 'n answer 'em."
Stephen barely knew where to start. He blurted. "Where am I?"
"I told you darlin', you're in Twilight," Marie lilted.
"I know that, you dumb Shr- lady. I mean, what is this place? And who are you?"
Marie didn't seem to notice the aborted insult, or, if she had, she had chosen to ignore it. "This is Saint Bernadine of Siena mission, hon. We help the poor, homeless, all those who need a helping hand - like you obviously do."
"I am NOT poor!" Stephen protested.
"All right, hon. All right," Marie said soothingly. "Anyway, you were brought in here about two days ag-"
"WHAT?!" Stephen leapt from his seat. "I've been down here two days? I... I don't remember... HOW?!"
Marie beckoned him to sit, and Stephen, now shaking, resumed his seat.
"I really don' know the answer t' that, sweetie," Marie said softly. "All I know is a couple of my guys found you wanderin' through the streets. You weren' makin' much sense. Lot o' folks thought you were crazy. But when they brought you in here we found you had a fever. You finally come out of it this mornin', and that's when I asked t' see you. What's the last thing you remember before this?"
Stephen nodded. "I'd picked up this really smokin' young thing at a club. We were in my limo, and things had gotten pretty hot, you know? She'd just finished-" Stephen suddenly felt uncomfortable telling this strange women the details of his tryst with Amber. "Well, let's just say we had a good time. I was tired, I guess from all the alcohol and partying and stuff. So I guess I fell asleep. When I woke up, I was in Shroo- I mean - here."
"And you don' know anythin' that happened between then and now?" Marie asked.
Stephen shook his head. "Damn... My family was pissed before. Man they are really gonna freak when they find out I ended up down here - especially if word leaks out and the Glitzies catch me on hamera." Then he brightened. "But MAN! That's gonna seriously boost my publicity! That's CRISP!" While he couldn't see Marie's face, the tilt of her head indicated confusion. He shrugged. "Never mind that. Just tell me how I can contact Dayside. I need to get out of - why are you shaking your head?"
"You can't." Marie said.
"Can't what?"
"You can't contact Dayside," Marie went on. "There's no communication between Twilight and Dayside, at least, none that Dayside doesn' make first."
"I don't follow," Stephen said.
"Honey - Stephen - you did say it was Stephen, right?"
Stephen nodded.
"Stephen, there's no way t' get out of Twilight."
Stephen shook his head. "That's nuts. Of course there's a way out."
Marie shook her head.
"But... There has to be!" Stephen exclaimed.
"I'm sorry, Stephen," Marie said. "Access between Twilight and Dayside was sealed off a hundred and fifty years ago." Her voice turned bitter. "Guess the Daysiders didn't want us 'Shrooms' - as you call us - sharing in the wealth. Now we just get the scraps from the master's table, and aren't allowed t' come up and ask for more. Heck, not even allowed t' come up and see what we're missin'."
"But I've seen Shr - Twilighters! - up there," Stephen argued. "Hell, I saw them up there that night with Amber."
Marie nodded. "And where did you see them?"
"Some DoME security guys had rounded them up"
"Exactly," Marie said. "Sometimes, a few Twilighters will find a way up - holes in the seal between Twilight and Dayside. But never many and never for long. Dayside security is very careful t' seal any breaches. And as you can imagine, a Twilighter would sort of 'glow in the dark' up there, so they'd be easy t' find."
"It's never dark up there," Stephen said. "And they weren't glowing."
Marie laughed. "Just a figure of speech. What I mean is, since we don't get sunlight down here, we're a pretty pale bunch. We stand out among all you nicely darkened specimens. Just like you stand out down here."
"There had to be a way out," Stephen insisted. "Someone brought me here."
"True," Marie agreed. "But it's easier t' get into Twilight than it is t' get out. You have t' have special codes and ID t' get back and forth."
"My father is Vilhelm Dormin," Stephen said. "All I have to do is show my ID..." He reached into his pocket but his wallet was missing. "Where's my wallet?" he demanded.
"You didn' have a wallet when they brought you in," Marie said. "You didn' have anythin' on you that identified you."
Stephen slumped in his chair. "No money, no ID..." he whined. Then he rallied. "Surely someone will recognize me!"
"Who?"
"I'm famous," Stephen continued. "Someone will."
"No one will," Marie said firmly. "Not down here."
"We'll see about that," Stephen challenged. "Now are you going to help me or what?"
Marie sighed. "That's what I'm tryin' t' do."
"I'm hungry too."
"We'll get you somethin' t' eat," Marie responded. "But first, we need t' get you some lenses."
"What?"
"Lenses," Marie said. "We can fit 'em over your eyes t' help you see better." She held up a pair of frames that contained thick, holo-screen-like lenses.
"You're kidding, right?"
Marie shook her head.
"I'm going to look ridiculous!" Stephen protested.
"But you'll be able t' see."
"No way!"
"Just try 'em, damn it!" Marie shouted.
Stephen was taken aback. Until now, though her accent was coarse, the tone of Marie's voice had been soothing and calm. The sudden flash of fire and temper was shocking, and Stephen found himself startled into obedience.
He put took the proffered lenses and afixed them - with a little assistance - to his eyes. Immediately he began blinking and his eyes began watering from the sudden increase in brightness. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but when they did, though the light level was still dimmer than he was used to, at least he could see more clearly. He smiled.
"Wow..." he whispered.
"Told you," Marie said with a smug lilt.
Stephen focused on her, and was surprised at what he saw. Though her voice sounded mature and careworn, Marie appeared to be no older than him. Her almost colorless face was pretty, and was framed by sandy hair that hung just above her shoulders. Her bright blue eyes were large, but not unattractively so. She was shorter than him by almost a foot, and, while her thickly layered clothing didn't allow him a glimpse of her figure, she seemed trim and fit. In all, she was not what he expected. Moreover, the look on his face must have told on him because Marie laughed mirthfully.
"Don't look so shocked, Stephen," she said. "We're not trolls down here."
"That's crisp...," Stephen breathed. He looked around and discovered that he was in a cluttered, but well-kept office. Books lined the walls, and papers covered the desk. He could see the dimly lit lamps overhead that provided the inadequate (to him) illumination. He turned back to Marie and studied her some more.
"All right, that's enough starin'," Marie declared with a laugh and a slight blush.
"Why? I like what I see so far," Stephen said flirtatiously. "Wouldn't mind seeing more..."
Marie gasped in shock. "That may work with the girls up Dayside, Stephen," she replied primly. "But girls down here in Twilight aren't so easy."
"I'll remember that," Stephen said with a wink. "I like a challenge."
Marie shook her head disapprovingly. "Time t' get you somethin' t' eat."
-----------
Stephen looked at the unappetizing mass that had just been ladeled into his bowl. "This is food?"
"Finest quisine Saint Bernadine of Siena can provide," Marie said wryly. "Cream of yeast, mushrooms - don't make the obvious joke - and a little bit of meat."
Stephen tried not to gag. "I don't eat meat," he said. "Don't you have any fruit? Maybe a salad?"
Marie laughed, and so did the others gathered in the crowded dining area. "Darlin', we don't get any sunlight down here, remember?"
"So?"
"Lord have pity," one of the kitchen staff chuckled. "Don't they teach you Daisies anythin'?"
Stephen has no idea what she was talking about or why she found his question so amusing. "They teach us stuff," Stephen replied sarcastically. "Like how to bathe..."
Instead of being a stinging rebuke, his response elicited another round of raucous laughter.
"Well, if that's higher learnin' Dayside," the kitchen worker quipped, "Then I'd rather stink."
Again the diners erupted in laughter.
"That's enough," Marie commanded. At that, the laughter subsided into a low buzz of conversation. She led Stephen to a table in a corner and they both sat down.
"What's so funny?" Stephen sulked.
"I'm sorry, Stephen," Marie said. "That was unkind of me. But don't you know that plants need sunlight to live? As you've seen, there's no sunlight down here. So, no plants. That means no fruit, no salads, no vegetation of any kind. We eat what thrives in the damp and the dark."
"And what's that?"
"Fungus, like the mushrooms in your bowl; We grow yeast cultures in vats and they provide the bulk of our food supplies. And sometimes, when we can get it, meat."
Stephen shook his head. "What kind of meat thrives in the dark?"
"Sure you want t' know?"
Stephen looked down at his bowl and felt sick. "I don't think I'm hungry anymore."
"Well, you'd better get over it," Marie scolded him. "You'll starve t' death down here if you don't."
"I'm not planning to stay," Stephen said stubbornly.
Marie sighed. "Stephen, I already told you there's no way out of here. No matter who you say you are - and Lord knows, I don't know anything about your Daysider society - unless you can prove it, no one is letting you Dayside."
"Someone will recognize me," Stephen insisted. "And when they do they'll get me out of here."
"You're assumin' they'll want to get you out," Marie said thoughtfully.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Marie shrugged. "Someone put you here, Stephen. You didn't get down here yourself. I saw you when they brought you in, and you were in no condition to button your trousers let alone get through the seals between Dayside and Twilight. No, someone brought you here, took all your money and identification, and abandoned you here. Now if someone went through all that trouble, what makes you think they didn't take measures to make sure you couldn't get back?"
Stephen hadn't thought of it that way. He'd assumed he'd had a reaction to one of the new designer drugs he'd sampled at the club, or had had too much to drink, and then had wandered in a stupor down to Twilight by accident. Or maybe that slut Amber had thought it would be a funny practical joke. He hadn't considered that someone might have done it with malicious intent.
Stephen pushed the bowl away and lay his face in his hands. Who would do something like this? he wondered. Why would someone dump me down here with all the Shrooms? It doesn't make sense! What possible reason would someone have... Stephen felt ice in his belly as a possible motive presented itself. No, it couldn't be!
"Are you all right?" Marie asked, concern in her voice.
"Huh?" Stephen looked up, startled out of his train of thought.
"I said, are you all right?"
"Am I all right?!" Stephen exclaimed. "What do you think? Of course I'm not! I'm trapped down here!" An involuntary sob escaped him and he bit his fist to hold back the tears that were stinging his eyes. He saw a look of pity on Marie's face, and she reached across the table and took his hand.
"I'm sorry," she said softly.
"You have to help me," Stephen pleaded. His voice shook. "Marie, I don't want to die down here. This place is horrible. I have to get back up Dayside. Please. I'll do anything. My father is Chairman of DoME. My family is very rich. VERY rich! I can give you whatever you want. Just please, you have to help me!"
"I'm sorry, Stephen," Marie repeated. "But I can't. There's no way-"
"BULLSHIT!" Stephen screamed as he pounded the table. "There has to be a way!"
"Keep your voice down!"
"No, damn it! I'm Stephen Alexander Dormin, and I will NOT be left to rot in this stinking shit-hole with you Shrooms."
Stephen was startled when Marie leaped from her seat, came round the table, grabbed him by the arm, and physically dragged him out of the dining area. When they were in an alcove off the hallway, she shoved him against the wall. He could see fire in her eyes.
"Oh ho! so you like it rough, Marie?" Stephen sneered. "I thought you said you Shroom sluts weren't eas-"
The sting of her slap rattled him.
"All right, you," she hissed. "That's enough of that. Now listen." There was iron in her voice. "I want to help you, and callin' me names is no way t' thank me. You're here. Get over it! I don't know how it is with you Daisies, but down here you need friends t' survive. I'm will t' be one o' those friends, but you have t' stifle that foul mouth o' yours. Got it?"
Stephen was too shocked to respond.
"Now," Marie hesitated. Taking a deep breath, she went on. "You're right. There may be a way out o' here-"
"HA!"
"-BUT! It's only a rumor. I didn't want t' say anythin' in front o' the others, so as not t' get 'em in trouble if trouble comes 'cause of it. I've been hearin' it lately amongst some friends I have, say they stumbled upon some forgotten route to Dayside. Not sure o' the details but what little I heard it sounded dangerous. Now, no offense t' you, but you're hardly in a position to survive here at St. Bernadine's. I think some excursion though Lord-only-knows-where may be a wee bit out o' your league."
"But..."
"But..." Marie shook her head and gave him a wry smile. "You look so darned miserable. And I can't have you cussin' and name callin' around my mission! So... I'll look into it for you."
"That's - That's CRISP!" Stephen cried, relieved.
"Don't know what that means or why you keep sayin' it," Marie chuckled. "All right. No promises, Stephen Alexander Dormin. I'll look into it. But no promises..."
Annoy a Liberal! Read the Constitution...
Re: Twilight: Story thread
"Djoe, what did you put in the sauce this time?" Grumbled Oak.
Oak was a huge man, 6'4" tall with long blonde hair, a long blonde beard and blue eyes.
He was looking at a small man who was of Chinese decent who just grinned at him.
"You no like bit of spice in sauce?" He sniggered.
Oak glare at him and got a cup of a brown liquid.
They were both standing in the engineroom of a small freighter called "Carl" and
they were taking a break while working on the engines of the ship.
"Hot sauce good?" Sniggered Djoe when he saw Oak's face turning red.
Oak jumped around while shouting the most severe curses he could think of, instead of the usual brown herb tea he had actually drank out of a bowl with a spicy sauce .
Oak and Djoe were good friends despite the two bickering and pulling pranks on the other, there also couldn't be a bigger difference between the two.
Oak was a large brute, he was in his early 20's and muscled like an ox, in short he looked like a viking from centuries ago.
Oak was incredibly strong, he exercised everyday and his size also was an advantage, being a mercenary he was well trained in hand to hand combat, also used a crossbow but his favorite weapon was a large axe.
Djoe was much shorter and with his bald head thin mustache and long pony tail looked like a thug from a 1980's B movie, Djoe's age was a mystery but most likely between 40 and 60 years of age.
Despite being small Djoe was a very dangerous man when he had to, his control of knives, swords and any other sharp object was beyond all imagination and coming from a large family of mercenaries he also was quite well trained in most martial arts.
The heavy door opened and a third man stepped into the engineroom, he was the leader of the bunch and probably the most interesting person visually.
Stoneface was around 35, about 5'8" tall, and had a stocky build, he had a lot of muscle but not as much as Oak, he had no hair on his skull, and his face was covered by a mask which was strapped onto his head with strong straps.
Stoneface was a mercenary and had been in a lot of fights, he was covered in scars and one of them, the largest ran from the underside of his chin all the way up to his forehead which was the reason he wore a mask.
The mask was made out of compound, this material was the most used building material, it was neither plastic, neither metal and not even stone but an invention of 2 centuries ago which combined all the good qualities of those, there were many kinds of compound depending on the needs, Stoneface's mask was very much stone like, it was grey and the texture was that of stone, the mask looked old and followed the contours of Stoneface's face exactly.
"How are things going here?" Stoneface asked.
"We're nearly set, next time the high tide comes in we can leave port as soon we get the wood powder." Answered Oak.
Wood powder was the main fuel of Carl's Sterling engine, it was stored in huge silos on board the ship, it was blown into the combustion chambers of the engine with huge amounts of air and burned there quite efficiently.
Carl was a little freighter, about 900 tons large, she was a wood powder tanker with all three of her cargo holds filled with 6 large silos and the equipment to load and offload the powder, besides that the deck of the ship was totally flat so she could haul a bit of cargo there as well.
Wood powder was the main fuel of sewer ships, some used it to fuel boilers for steam engines and some used it to fuel Sterling engines which were more frugal but more expensive to make and maintain.
Carl was at the moment located inside the port of one of the largest sewer cities, a place called Ship town, it was an unique place because it was build between two main sewers at a spot where at least 3 towers had collapsed and opened a 50 by 100 mile crack into the two main sewer pipes, the city got more light then any other of the twilight cities on the planet.
Carl at the moment was being prepared to haul a freight of materials from a city a few thousand miles down the pipes back to ship town together with wood powder.
"Get some sleep, I'll take the first watch, close off the whole ship, tomorrow at noon we can get moving." Ordered Stoneface.
With that they all made it to the bridge closing off the few doors there were, Stoneface climbed up to the bridge where he would stay for the next 4 hours.
Oak was a huge man, 6'4" tall with long blonde hair, a long blonde beard and blue eyes.
He was looking at a small man who was of Chinese decent who just grinned at him.
"You no like bit of spice in sauce?" He sniggered.
Oak glare at him and got a cup of a brown liquid.
They were both standing in the engineroom of a small freighter called "Carl" and
they were taking a break while working on the engines of the ship.
"Hot sauce good?" Sniggered Djoe when he saw Oak's face turning red.
Oak jumped around while shouting the most severe curses he could think of, instead of the usual brown herb tea he had actually drank out of a bowl with a spicy sauce .
Oak and Djoe were good friends despite the two bickering and pulling pranks on the other, there also couldn't be a bigger difference between the two.
Oak was a large brute, he was in his early 20's and muscled like an ox, in short he looked like a viking from centuries ago.
Oak was incredibly strong, he exercised everyday and his size also was an advantage, being a mercenary he was well trained in hand to hand combat, also used a crossbow but his favorite weapon was a large axe.
Djoe was much shorter and with his bald head thin mustache and long pony tail looked like a thug from a 1980's B movie, Djoe's age was a mystery but most likely between 40 and 60 years of age.
Despite being small Djoe was a very dangerous man when he had to, his control of knives, swords and any other sharp object was beyond all imagination and coming from a large family of mercenaries he also was quite well trained in most martial arts.
The heavy door opened and a third man stepped into the engineroom, he was the leader of the bunch and probably the most interesting person visually.
Stoneface was around 35, about 5'8" tall, and had a stocky build, he had a lot of muscle but not as much as Oak, he had no hair on his skull, and his face was covered by a mask which was strapped onto his head with strong straps.
Stoneface was a mercenary and had been in a lot of fights, he was covered in scars and one of them, the largest ran from the underside of his chin all the way up to his forehead which was the reason he wore a mask.
The mask was made out of compound, this material was the most used building material, it was neither plastic, neither metal and not even stone but an invention of 2 centuries ago which combined all the good qualities of those, there were many kinds of compound depending on the needs, Stoneface's mask was very much stone like, it was grey and the texture was that of stone, the mask looked old and followed the contours of Stoneface's face exactly.
"How are things going here?" Stoneface asked.
"We're nearly set, next time the high tide comes in we can leave port as soon we get the wood powder." Answered Oak.
Wood powder was the main fuel of Carl's Sterling engine, it was stored in huge silos on board the ship, it was blown into the combustion chambers of the engine with huge amounts of air and burned there quite efficiently.
Carl was a little freighter, about 900 tons large, she was a wood powder tanker with all three of her cargo holds filled with 6 large silos and the equipment to load and offload the powder, besides that the deck of the ship was totally flat so she could haul a bit of cargo there as well.
Wood powder was the main fuel of sewer ships, some used it to fuel boilers for steam engines and some used it to fuel Sterling engines which were more frugal but more expensive to make and maintain.
Carl was at the moment located inside the port of one of the largest sewer cities, a place called Ship town, it was an unique place because it was build between two main sewers at a spot where at least 3 towers had collapsed and opened a 50 by 100 mile crack into the two main sewer pipes, the city got more light then any other of the twilight cities on the planet.
Carl at the moment was being prepared to haul a freight of materials from a city a few thousand miles down the pipes back to ship town together with wood powder.
"Get some sleep, I'll take the first watch, close off the whole ship, tomorrow at noon we can get moving." Ordered Stoneface.
With that they all made it to the bridge closing off the few doors there were, Stoneface climbed up to the bridge where he would stay for the next 4 hours.
""Revenge is a dish best served fried... deep fried!" (Alestorm)" (Alestorm.)
Cutthroat Coffee, The Pirate's Choice!
Cutthroat Coffee, The Pirate's Choice!
Re: Twilight: Story thread
"Marlow, are the parts going to be brought here?"
Marlow looked up from his desk and smiled at the major of Ship town.
Carlos the Spanish was an average sized man in his late 50's, he was a slim figure with black graying hair and a big mustache and piercing brown eyes.
Carlos was at the moment not a happy man, on the contrary, he was an angry man and his anger was aimed at the people from above.
For ages Ship town had gotten more light then any other town below but lately the sky above was closing, more and more solar panels had been added and despite his warnings the upper class had only laughed and continued to close the skies above his town.
Carlos had discussed the matter with many people, people with connections and people with influence but not even they had been able to stop the building of the new solar panels.
Carlos had a plan though, one that actually had been designed for 20 years already, a risky one but now so it seemed it was needed, they only needed materials and patience.
That latter bit had run out, now Carlos was gathering materials.
"Not to worry, we have a ship on its way that will pick up the new shipment, the Captain can be trusted, he hates daisies more then anyone and he is a reliable mercenary." Answered Marlow.
Marlow was a tall blonde man of about 40 years, he was a calm man with an incredible in arranging stuff, Carlos had worked with Marlow the last 10 years to make Ship town the largest and best organized place in the sewer system.
"Who did you send?" Asked Carlos.
"Stoneface and his crew." Answered Marlow.
Carlos grinned, Stoneface was not someone who would give up a cargo, he knew that anyone trying to make trouble would be dealt with swiftly and most of the time not quietly.
"Very well, good choice." He nodded.
Carlos walked back to his desk and again watched the drawings.
"Yes.. Yes, this needs to work.. No! This WILL work." He thought and sighed, rubbed his eyes and started milling over the entire project all over again.
Marlow looked up from his desk and smiled at the major of Ship town.
Carlos the Spanish was an average sized man in his late 50's, he was a slim figure with black graying hair and a big mustache and piercing brown eyes.
Carlos was at the moment not a happy man, on the contrary, he was an angry man and his anger was aimed at the people from above.
For ages Ship town had gotten more light then any other town below but lately the sky above was closing, more and more solar panels had been added and despite his warnings the upper class had only laughed and continued to close the skies above his town.
Carlos had discussed the matter with many people, people with connections and people with influence but not even they had been able to stop the building of the new solar panels.
Carlos had a plan though, one that actually had been designed for 20 years already, a risky one but now so it seemed it was needed, they only needed materials and patience.
That latter bit had run out, now Carlos was gathering materials.
"Not to worry, we have a ship on its way that will pick up the new shipment, the Captain can be trusted, he hates daisies more then anyone and he is a reliable mercenary." Answered Marlow.
Marlow was a tall blonde man of about 40 years, he was a calm man with an incredible in arranging stuff, Carlos had worked with Marlow the last 10 years to make Ship town the largest and best organized place in the sewer system.
"Who did you send?" Asked Carlos.
"Stoneface and his crew." Answered Marlow.
Carlos grinned, Stoneface was not someone who would give up a cargo, he knew that anyone trying to make trouble would be dealt with swiftly and most of the time not quietly.
"Very well, good choice." He nodded.
Carlos walked back to his desk and again watched the drawings.
"Yes.. Yes, this needs to work.. No! This WILL work." He thought and sighed, rubbed his eyes and started milling over the entire project all over again.
""Revenge is a dish best served fried... deep fried!" (Alestorm)" (Alestorm.)
Cutthroat Coffee, The Pirate's Choice!
Cutthroat Coffee, The Pirate's Choice!
Re: Twilight: Story thread
Darkness.
Deep, dank, unremitting darkness.
oh goddamitall to hell i'm fucked.
That was my first thought, waking up. Yes, I'm not particularly proud of it, but it was what I thought, and in someways, it was accurate.
I was Underfoot... what some of us in the Unit called Twilight. In the dark, on some sort of a bed, in some sort of room.
Which meant....
oh shiiiit.
My team was gone. Likely dead, wiped out. And I'm a captive of the Mushroom Boys.
Glimmer. Tendrils of light, poking around a badly hung door. I quickly closed my eyes and tried to relax, tried to not seem awake.
Padding footsteps, light, hesitant, approached, and a small voice, thin, reedy, said, "Mifter ... Mifter? Mifter? You need to wake up mifter."
Ok, this I didn't expect. A child?
A thin hand, carefully closed on my shoulder and timidly shook it.
"Mifter, come on. You need to wake up. Theys comin', an' if'n they finds you here, my folks'll be hurt bad, and theys like to kill you..."
what?
I carefully opened my eyes and saw a young boy, maybe no more than 7, step back quickly. Ok, so I had been brought up to think the Mushrooms were not good folk, not to be trusted, in the important ways ... not human, not Us good folk up Topside. But this was a frickin' kid, man. Looked like my nephew, back home .... up Top. And he was looking at me like the Devil himself had come up from the Pit in a man's shape and was about to eat his soul ... and he still didn't want me to come to harm.
Well, crap.
I turned my head (oh man it hurt) and rasped through thick parched lips, "Who's coming?" I held up my hands, palms out, carefully, slowly. I was unarmed, damn weak, and if it was the Mushroom Boys, I was in deep, deep cacky.
"Th' Mushroom Boys, mifter."
Crud.
Something must have shown on my face that he didn't particularly like, because he took to his heels, and darted out the door.
this is not good, I thought, and tried to sit up. Tried, very manfully, but even i couldn't pull it off immediately. I nearly passed out, almost puked my guts out twice .... but I made it.
And that's when the kid came back, with his pop. Who, thank God, had a pitcher of water. After I'd drunk my fill, slowly, savouring, I looked at him as he pondered me, dark eyes calm, knowing, almost like they saw into my soul.
"The Mushroom Boys are on their way," he said calmly, a trace of some other native tongue under his English. "We will hide you today, and your gear, and care for you, but when you are well enough you must leave, for it will become more dangerous for you, and for us, as time continues."
I look at him, with those dark knowing eyes, and asked, "Why?"
"Because it is what Allah demands, and it is what is right," he said simply.
I bowed my head in acknowledgement.
Ten minutes later, as they lowered me and my gear into an abandoned cistern of some sort, just before he close the lid, I looked at him, and said, "shukran, 'abii.... " and was gratified to see a small smile on his face as the cover dropped over me, plunging me back into the dark.
Deep, dank, unremitting darkness.
oh goddamitall to hell i'm fucked.
That was my first thought, waking up. Yes, I'm not particularly proud of it, but it was what I thought, and in someways, it was accurate.
I was Underfoot... what some of us in the Unit called Twilight. In the dark, on some sort of a bed, in some sort of room.
Which meant....
oh shiiiit.
My team was gone. Likely dead, wiped out. And I'm a captive of the Mushroom Boys.
Glimmer. Tendrils of light, poking around a badly hung door. I quickly closed my eyes and tried to relax, tried to not seem awake.
Padding footsteps, light, hesitant, approached, and a small voice, thin, reedy, said, "Mifter ... Mifter? Mifter? You need to wake up mifter."
Ok, this I didn't expect. A child?
A thin hand, carefully closed on my shoulder and timidly shook it.
"Mifter, come on. You need to wake up. Theys comin', an' if'n they finds you here, my folks'll be hurt bad, and theys like to kill you..."
what?
I carefully opened my eyes and saw a young boy, maybe no more than 7, step back quickly. Ok, so I had been brought up to think the Mushrooms were not good folk, not to be trusted, in the important ways ... not human, not Us good folk up Topside. But this was a frickin' kid, man. Looked like my nephew, back home .... up Top. And he was looking at me like the Devil himself had come up from the Pit in a man's shape and was about to eat his soul ... and he still didn't want me to come to harm.
Well, crap.
I turned my head (oh man it hurt) and rasped through thick parched lips, "Who's coming?" I held up my hands, palms out, carefully, slowly. I was unarmed, damn weak, and if it was the Mushroom Boys, I was in deep, deep cacky.
"Th' Mushroom Boys, mifter."
Crud.
Something must have shown on my face that he didn't particularly like, because he took to his heels, and darted out the door.
this is not good, I thought, and tried to sit up. Tried, very manfully, but even i couldn't pull it off immediately. I nearly passed out, almost puked my guts out twice .... but I made it.
And that's when the kid came back, with his pop. Who, thank God, had a pitcher of water. After I'd drunk my fill, slowly, savouring, I looked at him as he pondered me, dark eyes calm, knowing, almost like they saw into my soul.
"The Mushroom Boys are on their way," he said calmly, a trace of some other native tongue under his English. "We will hide you today, and your gear, and care for you, but when you are well enough you must leave, for it will become more dangerous for you, and for us, as time continues."
I look at him, with those dark knowing eyes, and asked, "Why?"
"Because it is what Allah demands, and it is what is right," he said simply.
I bowed my head in acknowledgement.
Ten minutes later, as they lowered me and my gear into an abandoned cistern of some sort, just before he close the lid, I looked at him, and said, "shukran, 'abii.... " and was gratified to see a small smile on his face as the cover dropped over me, plunging me back into the dark.
De Oppresso Liber - US Army SF
The only easy day was yesterday - USN SEALs
The only easy day was yesterday - USN SEALs
Re: Twilight: Story thread
As consciousness slowly began to return to her, several things, Ruby registered several things. First, that she was laying on a comfortable bed, the likes of which she hadn’t slept on in what must be years now. Second, she wasn’t restrained in any way, and third, that she was being watched. She opened her eyes a crack. There was a man sitting at the base of the bed. He had long grey hair which fell down to his shoulders, and his eyes were suffused with a quality she had rarely seen before. They were kind. When he spoke, his voice had an avuncular feature to it.
“Hello Ruby”
The mention of her name bought her to full consciousness with a start, and she sat bolt upright.
“Wha..? How did you…”
“Know your name? Your reputation precedes you my dear. Ruby, the runner, the explorer, the girl for whom there are no boundaries, whose thirst for knowledge is greater than anyone I have ever met. There’s even a rumour going around that you traversed the Atlantic tunnel network”
The more he spoke the more Ruby realised that she had heard his voice before.
“You… you were in the boat… talking to those others about… about…”
She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence. After all, the very idea of breaching the seal and going into the upper levels was ludicrous!
“Yes, I was. How much of our conversation do you remember”
“All of it”
“I see… That manages to be both equally unfortunate and fortunate. A thirst for knowledge is an admirable thing my dear, but it must be tempered by wisdom, lest you hear something you shouldn’t”
Even though his stead calming tone had not wavered in the slightest, Ruby had never been more frightened in her life.
“Are… are you going to kill me?” she asked, her voice cracking. The mystery gentleman shook his head.
“No, no. You see, that is where the fortunate part comes in. If even half of what I heard is true, your skills are incredible. My expedition could use someone like you. So I am going to make you an offer. Will you come with us? Boldly go where no-one from the Twilight has gone before?”
“Hello Ruby”
The mention of her name bought her to full consciousness with a start, and she sat bolt upright.
“Wha..? How did you…”
“Know your name? Your reputation precedes you my dear. Ruby, the runner, the explorer, the girl for whom there are no boundaries, whose thirst for knowledge is greater than anyone I have ever met. There’s even a rumour going around that you traversed the Atlantic tunnel network”
The more he spoke the more Ruby realised that she had heard his voice before.
“You… you were in the boat… talking to those others about… about…”
She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence. After all, the very idea of breaching the seal and going into the upper levels was ludicrous!
“Yes, I was. How much of our conversation do you remember”
“All of it”
“I see… That manages to be both equally unfortunate and fortunate. A thirst for knowledge is an admirable thing my dear, but it must be tempered by wisdom, lest you hear something you shouldn’t”
Even though his stead calming tone had not wavered in the slightest, Ruby had never been more frightened in her life.
“Are… are you going to kill me?” she asked, her voice cracking. The mystery gentleman shook his head.
“No, no. You see, that is where the fortunate part comes in. If even half of what I heard is true, your skills are incredible. My expedition could use someone like you. So I am going to make you an offer. Will you come with us? Boldly go where no-one from the Twilight has gone before?”
Re: Twilight: Story thread
It was a damp and hot morning when "Carl" left Ship town, the ship pointed its bow into a sewer pipe and disappeared into the dark.
Carl's engines didn't drive the propellor directly the 2 big 6 cylinder sterling engines were both connected to a generator which drove two large electro motors and powered the rest of the ship's systems, Carl also was able to sail, it had three retractable masts with Chinese junk style sails.
Oak was down in the engineroom and checked the flow of air and powdered wood into the combustion chambers of the Sterling engines, wood powder was injected into a high pressure stream of air and then ignited which caused a steady source of heat that enabled the engines to get the ship up to a maximum speed of about 15 knots which was done very seldom because of the expense of fuel and the wear and tear on the engines.
"Oak, you want food?" Asked Djoe, who stepped into the engineroom.
Oak only now noticed his stomach growling and grinned.
"Yeah I could use a bit." He said.
Djoe had brought with him food, it was a simple meal made out of several plants, herbs and a few clams that resembled a overgrown kind of barnacle.
"This time not confuse hot sauce with tea." Grinned Djoe.
Oak glared at the old man but then shifted his focus to the meal and finished his breakfast in no time.
Stoneface meanwhile was steering the ship from the bridge, the water was calm and the ship was cruising along at about 8 knots, entering the sewer system always gave Stoneface a little kick, it was a huge system with at every little twist and turn a surprise, some good some bad, the absence of light for the most part was something he didn't mind much.
After a while Djoe stepped onto the bridge with food for Stoneface.
"Djoe will dig out maps for secondary pipes just in case." Said the old man while handing Stoneface his meal.
"Thats a good idea, it never hurts to have alternatives." Answered Stoneface who enjoyed his meal.
"Its busy today." Grumbled Djoe who had taken the wheel.
"Yeah, I noticed, I've been zig zagging since we left the city some people shouldn't be allowed to command a ship." Nodded Stoneface.
Meanwhile a smaller vessel followed the old freighter into the sewer system, it was a fast boat with an alcohol fueled engine, on board were 6 persons.
"Not too close." Grumbled one of them.
"Aye Captain." Was the answer and the ship slowed down a little to make sure they weren't visible from the old freighter.
The man at the helm didn't have an easy job because of the heavy traffic but managed to stay with "Carl" and its crew.
Carl's engines didn't drive the propellor directly the 2 big 6 cylinder sterling engines were both connected to a generator which drove two large electro motors and powered the rest of the ship's systems, Carl also was able to sail, it had three retractable masts with Chinese junk style sails.
Oak was down in the engineroom and checked the flow of air and powdered wood into the combustion chambers of the Sterling engines, wood powder was injected into a high pressure stream of air and then ignited which caused a steady source of heat that enabled the engines to get the ship up to a maximum speed of about 15 knots which was done very seldom because of the expense of fuel and the wear and tear on the engines.
"Oak, you want food?" Asked Djoe, who stepped into the engineroom.
Oak only now noticed his stomach growling and grinned.
"Yeah I could use a bit." He said.
Djoe had brought with him food, it was a simple meal made out of several plants, herbs and a few clams that resembled a overgrown kind of barnacle.
"This time not confuse hot sauce with tea." Grinned Djoe.
Oak glared at the old man but then shifted his focus to the meal and finished his breakfast in no time.
Stoneface meanwhile was steering the ship from the bridge, the water was calm and the ship was cruising along at about 8 knots, entering the sewer system always gave Stoneface a little kick, it was a huge system with at every little twist and turn a surprise, some good some bad, the absence of light for the most part was something he didn't mind much.
After a while Djoe stepped onto the bridge with food for Stoneface.
"Djoe will dig out maps for secondary pipes just in case." Said the old man while handing Stoneface his meal.
"Thats a good idea, it never hurts to have alternatives." Answered Stoneface who enjoyed his meal.
"Its busy today." Grumbled Djoe who had taken the wheel.
"Yeah, I noticed, I've been zig zagging since we left the city some people shouldn't be allowed to command a ship." Nodded Stoneface.
Meanwhile a smaller vessel followed the old freighter into the sewer system, it was a fast boat with an alcohol fueled engine, on board were 6 persons.
"Not too close." Grumbled one of them.
"Aye Captain." Was the answer and the ship slowed down a little to make sure they weren't visible from the old freighter.
The man at the helm didn't have an easy job because of the heavy traffic but managed to stay with "Carl" and its crew.
-
Captain Cisco
- Posts: 20247
- Joined: October 27th, 2004, 1:21 pm
- Location: On a caffeine rush
Re: Twilight: Story thread
Stephen sat quietly in his own dim and dingy cubicle in the Mission, afraid to make a sound lest anyone notice him. He had seen the looks of loathing from the others as Marie had led him there.
"Just keep t' yourself," Marie had cautioned. "They don' take too kindly t' you. But if you keep t' yourself they won' bother you."
"Why don't they like me?" Stephen had asked. He had been genuinely confused. Where he came from, everyone liked him - or at least, they pretended to. That was all part of the way things worked Dayside.
"Some because you're a Daisy, and they have their reasons for hatin' the Daisies," Marie had explained in a low voice. "Others because they heard the way you spoke t' me and about them."
Stephen had felt an unfamiliar sensation in his stomach. He'd heard someone in his family - maybe his father or his sister - describe it once. They called it "regret." Stephen remembered it sounded unpleasant at the time, and vowed he'd never put himself through it. Unfortunately, it looked like regret was something that happened whether one liked it or not - sort of like a hangover or pregnancy.
"I'm - I'm sorry about that, Marie," Stephen had said softly. He felt like he was going to throw up. Along with regret, he'd never had to apologize before.
Some of the stomach discomfort had lifted a little when he saw the whisp of a smile on Marie's face.
"Now just stay here," she'd said firmly. "I'm goin' t' meet with the friends I spoke of earlier, and I'll be gone for some time. I've asked Smitty in the kitchen t' bring your meals here, since I can' have you goin' back there t' the public dinin' area. Just remember to t' say thank you t' him, and don' call him names. I've warned him about you, but Smitty is still known for spittin' in the food of people he doesn' like. So don' provoke him."
So Stephen sat just as he'd been told to do. True to Marie's word, someone Stephen could only assume was "Smitty" came and delivered a tray of food to him at each of the subsequent mealtimes. And though the food looked just as unappetizing in private as it had in the dining area, Stephen dutifully followed Marie's admonition and politely thanked the man. Though Smitty had scowled at him, he did appear satisfied that the forms of courtesy had been obeyed.
Three meals had passed, and Stephen had only emerged from his cubicle long enough to use the facilities, which he found a daunting prospect in the none-too-clean environment of Twilight. Still, he'd managed. He was just taken off his lenses and was beginning to doze off when he heard a scuffing sound by the opening of his cubicle. He looked up, but in the dimness all he could make out was a vague human form.
"Marie?" he called. His hands felt around for his lenses.
Just then, he felt another hand grab his wrist. It was a hard, calloused hand, and gripped him tightly. Stephen started to cry out, but immediately felt a piece of wet cloth pressed against his nose and mouth, smothering his cry and making him choke. He struggled desperately, terror gripping his guts like a cold metal glove, but to no avail. The already dim light became dark, and his body felt heavy as lead as he slumped to the floor...
----------
"I'm sorry Stephen," Marie apologized for what seemed like the fiftieth time, "but it was the only way my friends would let you come. They don' want anyone t' see their secret base. They are willin' to take you along, but..."
"Fine!" Stephen snapped. He still had a headache from whatever Marie's "friends" had used to knock him out, and his stomach felt queasy as well. The latter was not helped by the surroundings. "What is that awful smell?"
"We're in the sewers, Stephen," Marie explained.
Stephen surveyed the expansiveness around him. They stood on a concrete dock jutting out into the slowly moving, sludge-filled water swirling along. He tried to see across to the otherside, but the water disappeared into the murky dimness. The same with the ceiling, which was invisible beyond what looked like an impenetrable bank of clouds. To see clouds in the underworld of Twilight seemed odd to Stephen, and he asked about it.
"Ah, those clouds," Marie replied with evident distaste. "Buildups of methane and other sewer gases. You don' want t' get inside those."
"That's disgusting!" Stephen said.
"Yes," Marie agreed. "But it's all a part of life down here. Just like the river there."
"River?"
"Legends say that many of the larger sewer conduits were built around rivers. This was one of them. Once it was clean and full of life. Now it's just full of the waste from above."
Stephen could believe that last part from the foul stench rising from the water. He wasn't sure about the rest of it, but the murmers from the others around him suggested that he keep his skepticism silent. He looked at the others, who stood apart from him and Marie, and sent occasional glares of suspicion his way. They were the "friends" Marie had arranged his passage with. They hadn't spoken with him since he'd regained consciousness, and he didn't even know their names. Still, Marie had suggested that he would face a long voyage with those people, so he was sure he'd eventually learn something about them. If not, it would be a long and lonely voyage.
"Here comes the transport." Marie pointed to a small craft that pulled up to the dock.
"You're kidding," Stephen said. The craft was no large than a small automobile, and it looked rickety and full of holes. "It's so small!" he cried in alarm.
Marie chuckled. "Don' worry," she assured him. "That's just the shuttle to take everyone t' the main vessel waiting a little ways out. The big ships can' get too close t' the walls."
Stephen was surprised to feel a twinge of regret as he said, "so I guess this is goodbye."
Marie smiled. "Not exactly."
"What?"
"I'm goin' with you."
"What? Really?"
"Well, that was the other condition t' takin' you along," Marie said. "I have t' come along too, t' keep an eye on you."
Stephen wasn't sure at first if he should feel offended or relieved. He settled on relieved that at least he'd have someone to talk to on the voyage.
"It's time to go," a voice called from the waiting boat.
Stephen looked down into the foul water and got a fresh whiff of the stench. He looked over at Marie who also seemed to find the odor unpleasant. She smiled at him reassuringly and then with a laugh, pointed at the waiting boat and said, "after you..."
"Just keep t' yourself," Marie had cautioned. "They don' take too kindly t' you. But if you keep t' yourself they won' bother you."
"Why don't they like me?" Stephen had asked. He had been genuinely confused. Where he came from, everyone liked him - or at least, they pretended to. That was all part of the way things worked Dayside.
"Some because you're a Daisy, and they have their reasons for hatin' the Daisies," Marie had explained in a low voice. "Others because they heard the way you spoke t' me and about them."
Stephen had felt an unfamiliar sensation in his stomach. He'd heard someone in his family - maybe his father or his sister - describe it once. They called it "regret." Stephen remembered it sounded unpleasant at the time, and vowed he'd never put himself through it. Unfortunately, it looked like regret was something that happened whether one liked it or not - sort of like a hangover or pregnancy.
"I'm - I'm sorry about that, Marie," Stephen had said softly. He felt like he was going to throw up. Along with regret, he'd never had to apologize before.
Some of the stomach discomfort had lifted a little when he saw the whisp of a smile on Marie's face.
"Now just stay here," she'd said firmly. "I'm goin' t' meet with the friends I spoke of earlier, and I'll be gone for some time. I've asked Smitty in the kitchen t' bring your meals here, since I can' have you goin' back there t' the public dinin' area. Just remember to t' say thank you t' him, and don' call him names. I've warned him about you, but Smitty is still known for spittin' in the food of people he doesn' like. So don' provoke him."
So Stephen sat just as he'd been told to do. True to Marie's word, someone Stephen could only assume was "Smitty" came and delivered a tray of food to him at each of the subsequent mealtimes. And though the food looked just as unappetizing in private as it had in the dining area, Stephen dutifully followed Marie's admonition and politely thanked the man. Though Smitty had scowled at him, he did appear satisfied that the forms of courtesy had been obeyed.
Three meals had passed, and Stephen had only emerged from his cubicle long enough to use the facilities, which he found a daunting prospect in the none-too-clean environment of Twilight. Still, he'd managed. He was just taken off his lenses and was beginning to doze off when he heard a scuffing sound by the opening of his cubicle. He looked up, but in the dimness all he could make out was a vague human form.
"Marie?" he called. His hands felt around for his lenses.
Just then, he felt another hand grab his wrist. It was a hard, calloused hand, and gripped him tightly. Stephen started to cry out, but immediately felt a piece of wet cloth pressed against his nose and mouth, smothering his cry and making him choke. He struggled desperately, terror gripping his guts like a cold metal glove, but to no avail. The already dim light became dark, and his body felt heavy as lead as he slumped to the floor...
----------
"I'm sorry Stephen," Marie apologized for what seemed like the fiftieth time, "but it was the only way my friends would let you come. They don' want anyone t' see their secret base. They are willin' to take you along, but..."
"Fine!" Stephen snapped. He still had a headache from whatever Marie's "friends" had used to knock him out, and his stomach felt queasy as well. The latter was not helped by the surroundings. "What is that awful smell?"
"We're in the sewers, Stephen," Marie explained.
Stephen surveyed the expansiveness around him. They stood on a concrete dock jutting out into the slowly moving, sludge-filled water swirling along. He tried to see across to the otherside, but the water disappeared into the murky dimness. The same with the ceiling, which was invisible beyond what looked like an impenetrable bank of clouds. To see clouds in the underworld of Twilight seemed odd to Stephen, and he asked about it.
"Ah, those clouds," Marie replied with evident distaste. "Buildups of methane and other sewer gases. You don' want t' get inside those."
"That's disgusting!" Stephen said.
"Yes," Marie agreed. "But it's all a part of life down here. Just like the river there."
"River?"
"Legends say that many of the larger sewer conduits were built around rivers. This was one of them. Once it was clean and full of life. Now it's just full of the waste from above."
Stephen could believe that last part from the foul stench rising from the water. He wasn't sure about the rest of it, but the murmers from the others around him suggested that he keep his skepticism silent. He looked at the others, who stood apart from him and Marie, and sent occasional glares of suspicion his way. They were the "friends" Marie had arranged his passage with. They hadn't spoken with him since he'd regained consciousness, and he didn't even know their names. Still, Marie had suggested that he would face a long voyage with those people, so he was sure he'd eventually learn something about them. If not, it would be a long and lonely voyage.
"Here comes the transport." Marie pointed to a small craft that pulled up to the dock.
"You're kidding," Stephen said. The craft was no large than a small automobile, and it looked rickety and full of holes. "It's so small!" he cried in alarm.
Marie chuckled. "Don' worry," she assured him. "That's just the shuttle to take everyone t' the main vessel waiting a little ways out. The big ships can' get too close t' the walls."
Stephen was surprised to feel a twinge of regret as he said, "so I guess this is goodbye."
Marie smiled. "Not exactly."
"What?"
"I'm goin' with you."
"What? Really?"
"Well, that was the other condition t' takin' you along," Marie said. "I have t' come along too, t' keep an eye on you."
Stephen wasn't sure at first if he should feel offended or relieved. He settled on relieved that at least he'd have someone to talk to on the voyage.
"It's time to go," a voice called from the waiting boat.
Stephen looked down into the foul water and got a fresh whiff of the stench. He looked over at Marie who also seemed to find the odor unpleasant. She smiled at him reassuringly and then with a laugh, pointed at the waiting boat and said, "after you..."