Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Spanner 16.5: Such Women Are Dangerous

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Chaos Angel Spanner — Chapter 16: Don’t Change the Channel
Part 5: Such Women Are Dangerous (Final Revision)

8 october 2014.
technosphere.
Posted to LocaFantoma99’s Profile on 7 October 2014:
A cat attacks a rabbit. At first, the cat chases the rabbit. After a short squabble, the rabbit chases the cat. A few seconds later, the rabbit catches the cat-and humps it...
The cat is Mikan. The rabbit’s name is Peter, and he belongs to Shira’s grandmother, the children’s author Eleanor Richter. Shira shot the video herself three summers ago on a FlipCam. The soundtrack consists of angry feline meows and hisses, a lapine squeak or two, and the squeals and giggles of half a dozen children, including Shira and Kira.

red house. Shira and the girl with the violet eyes wake up in each other’s arms in the guest room bed. The nameless girl looks in Shira’s beautiful green eyes. Something feels not right. “You okay?”

“I feel a little odd.”

The nameless girl throws the covers off her. “On your stomach.” She carefully feels all over Shira’s bare buttocks, looking for a painful spot.

“No, I didn’t get an umbrella in the arse. Did you get a ‘truth serum’ injection?”

“Oh my—”

They join Charlie, Desiree, Melody, and Luna in the annex for breakfast. “Say, Charlie,” Shira asks, “you going to school today?”

“Sure. Why?”

“Maybe you could give me a checkup?”

“Not feeling well?”

“Not since Monday.”

Charlie and Desiree look at each other with concern. Desiree says, “Do it.”

mudlark house. Irina wanders still naked into the basement workshop where Jennifer, comfortably nude as usual, installs a new and more powerful computer brain into Pansy Persocom’s head. The old brain is mounted on the table next to Jennifer’s laptop. She looks around and marvels at the odd devices scattered all over. “Wow, you are inventor?”

Jennifer smiles sweetly. “I like to tinker.” She carefully fits the top of Pansy’s head back into place. It locks into place; Pansy opens her eyes; she’s on. Jennifer Bluetooth-syncs the computer to both brains; the new operating system and the old AI begin installation. “She won’t know who she is till she’s installed in her new brain.” She fondles the beautiful body. The monitor reveals Pansy’s reaction to her touch. “Come on, feel her.”

Irina feels the gynoid’s breasts. “She is cold.”

“I just turned her back on. She’ll warm up.”

She strokes the legs. “Does she have morality chip?”

“Designed it myself.” Jennifer looks into blue eyes slowly coming to life. “Such a sweet girl, so innocent.”

While they wait for Pansy’s system to upload and upgrade, Irina takes another look around the lab. “This look like madness place where mad scientist do mad science.”

“So what makes you such an authority on mad science?”

“You know Dr. Tukholsky, who make third Proletarian into superhero? He give me crazy tests before Russian army send me to war.”

Jennifer turns her head suddenly and fixes an intense gaze on Irina, making her flinch. “He gave you super serum.”

“Y-yes, I think.”

She pulls Irina close. “Irina, you gotta to school with us.”

“School?”

“My cousin Charlie’s the school nurse. She can run tests.” Jennifer stares into the Russian girl’s eyes, gently strokes tousled red hair, and gives her a long deep kiss.
Radisson: There is no need to panic. We here in the government are here to help you. We have everything under control.
bangor high. Student Councillors gather in the parking lot. “How come Bart’s not here?” asks Kelly.

“Probably evading treason charges,” Charmian answers. “He’s a mere fighter who knows nothing of true war.”

“Why’s that?”

“Intelligence, not brute force, wins the war.”

“So how do we beat the enemy?”

“Gossip always works well. Except on Shira Thomas. She’s too amoral. And Jennifer Blair? Too potentially dangerous.”

“And Karen Kubota’s made of Teflon.”

“How about your Eurotrash cousins, then?”

Rachel looks at her in surprise and says nothing. Lucy says, “We tried Leila yesterday, but she only laughed at us and Debbie got mad.”

Debbie glares at her too close. “I’m still mad.”

“Forget any of them,” says Kelly. “I know Shira’s weakness, and it ain’t Leila.”

Charmian suddenly turns to look at her. She reads the jealous look in her eye. She knows. “Then what is it, Kelly?”

“Sweet little Mimi. She’s a total wuss. I say we start with her.”

school lobby. The vidscreen bank at the school entrance greets Team Bremelo by relentlessly and narmily mourning King Patriot as if it believed it could bring him back from the dead through virtual tears alone. Shira snarks, “Looks like our American Stalin just turned into our Kim Il Sung.” Polly looks at her strangely. “Did you know Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il are still co-heads of state in North Korea even though they’re dead? Now the ghost of old King Rodge can be co-ghost leader along with Emperor Jesus America, President Goldman Sachs, and Party Chairman The American Crusader.”

Polly sighs in frustration. “This is getting so weird, I feel like I’m trapped in a funhouse with monster clowns.”

“And I’m duelling the makeup artist. You think it’s weird? Now it starts getting interesting.”

As they walk toward the cafeteria, they notice the Fleer sisters arguing with unusual hysteria. They cannot hear what they’re saying because they keep talking over each other, but they notice Dorian failing to calm her younger sisters down and Christian succeeding in making her sisters more hysterical, and that what they’re arguing over is Spanner. “Losing their great-grandfather sure hit ’em hard, Karen observes.

“It’s even worse,” says Shira. “They’re afraid of the monster that killed him.”

Kelly intrudes angrily into Shira’s face. “I hope to God you’re not connected with that horrible terrorist.”

“You mean Spanner?” replies Shira. “That guy doesn’t need our help, and probably doesn’t want it either.”

Bart rudely pushes Kelly aside (Kelly: “Ow!”) and growls with a wavering half-hysteria he has never shown before: “That terrorist murdered our king!”

Shira smiles sweetly and shrugs. “How do you know he’s even dead?”

principal’s office. The tutors stand before the principals’ stare again. The girl with the violet eyes notices Benson and Robson missing. “Where’s Rosencrantz and Guildenstern?” she mocks. “Are they not feeling like real men?”

Falconer and Mobley sit resentfully to either side of Principal’s permasmirk; the school Party liaison Morton Spiekerman stands above them and the empty seats between. “They are, shall we say, on leave,” Spiekerman drawls. “I am now in charge of this miserable little school.” The principals try to glare at him without actually looking.

Shira smiles ironically. “Does that explain the heavily armed itchy trigger fingers you put in the halls to keep us unacceptably rational unpersons in line?”

Falconer stands up and shrieks, “You’re out of line, Thomas!”

“Don’t think we won’t punish you for your insolence, Miss Thomas,” Spiekerman warns.

“Are you sure you’re ready to take personal responsibility, Comrade Spiekerman?” asks Shira. “I’ll have to warn you that it's not just SPEC’s reputation on the line, but yours, personally.”

“If anything happens like last week’s shooting incident,” Jennifer adds, “you own it.”

Spierkerman stares at them in cold rage. The principals stare up at him nervously.

hallway. Daisy walks alone toward homeroom through the crowd of students. The students glance warily at the many volunteer armed guards, bearded Party men who glare at them with suspicion. The men stare at her as if she’s an alien invader from Mars. Suddenly she hears a young male voice behind her, a student: “Kon Hinagiku-san?”

“Don’t call me that name!” she snaps at—

Akane Ejimoto smiles at her. “You’re a true hero, Hinagiku-san. They’re stupid to treat you like an enemy. I want you to know...” He comes over to caress her cheek. “I worship you.”

She stares at him, stunned by his confession. “Akane-kun... please don’t...” He silences her with a gentle kiss. They silently stare at each other for several seconds. They scramble to a nook away from the guards’ paranoid view, then pull each other close and share a long and increasingly passionate kiss. She gasps, sighs, regains her breath. “What about your mother?”

“The hell with my mother.” They stare into each other's eyes, he with determination, she with amazement. They hold each other tight and share a long hot kiss.

A woman clears her throat. Polly. They blush furiously. “Move it, lovebirds,” she says, “class starts any second.”

cafeteria. The girl with the violet eyes finds herself surrounded by mean girls. Christian, Kelly, Debbie, and Lady get in her way and won’t let her move. The guards, though armed, keep their distance. Debbie protests, “Are you saying we’re responsible for those suicides?”

The nameless girl gasps. “Of course not!”

Debbie drapes herself over her and sobs, “Why do you hate me so much?”

Lady slaps her. “Don’t be a fool, Debbie. She’s nothing but a filthy Eurotrash whore.”

Christian says, “Debbie, I warned you about her years ago.”

Jennifer clears her throat. They look at her. “What would you want done to your body after your suicide?”

The Student Councillors stare at her strangely.

“In Pretty City,” says the violet-eyed girl, “they drive models to suicide and use their corpses for art.”

“It’s true,” says Rob. “It’s why we left.”

Debbie wails, "That's insane!"

“But these are the kind of Egoists,” Jennifer grimly explains, “who don’t care what happens to their bodies once they've liberated their Egos.”

The violet-eyed girl raises a finger. “The Molotov Twins insist it’s a waste of perfectly beautiful dead flesh.”

Shira winks. “You girls ever heard of America’s Next Dead Model?”

The Councillors stare at her. They look at each other, then flee with a chorus of "Ew!"

homeroom office. In the men’s restroom behind the principal’s office, two gray-haired men in business suits (SPEC CEO Peter Ross, fat and bald; Teachers Guild local president Nolan Robson, tall and thin) and one in Party uniform (school liaison Morton Spiekerman) stand at adjacent urinals and talk business, unaware that Falconer installed a hidden camera because she suspects Principal Principal and Coach Mobley are gay. Dave, Karen, and Colette watch them on his monitor. “This Student Union thing’s seriously impacting our monetization plan,” says Ross.

Spiekerman asks, “Wasn’t it going smoothly until a few students started getting disobedient?”

Dave mutters, “If it wasn’t for you meddling kids.” The girls laugh.

Robson protests, “The plan was never going smoothly because of those meddling kids.” (Karen and Colette squeal and giggle.)

“You know who their leader is, Mr. Chairman?”

“Ah yes,” Ross replies, “your three-time cheerleader of the year who claims Buddha and not Jesus America as her savior.”

“Whose aunt just happens to be our enemy,” Robson adds.

Jennifer, Shira, and the girl with the violet eyes arrive. Jennifer and Shira sing “Hi cousin!” together and throw themselves in Karen’s arms. She kisses them both. Jennifer looks at the monitor. “Say, isn’t that nonentity assistant principal Robson with the Chairman?”

Shira frowns. “Actually, that’s nonentity puppet Guild chief Robson. Three guesses who they’re talking about, and the first two don’t count.”

“‘Paid vacation,’ eh?”

“Yeah.”

Robson says, “That popular girl who just came back, Nicolette Rosewater? She’s one of the key figures in the plot against us.”

“Do something about her too, then,” says Ross. “And do something about their ‘newtype’ friend Blair, too. King Patriot died for Our Nation. We cannot let a few little girls resurrect the Communist evil we spent our whole lives fighting, right under our noses.”

Spiekerman smiles knowingly. “I know exactly the man to teach a lesson or two to Miss cheerleader-of-the-year.”

Robson chuckles. “That should teach those little monkeys who’s boss.”

Ross zips his fly. “But beware of Shira Thomas.” Spiekerman and Robson, still holding their penises, stare at him in shock as he leaves.

clinic. Charlie pricks Shira’s fingertip. Mimi flinches. Cory, Polly, the Shelley siblings, and a redheaded non-student named Irina look on. Charlie touches the bead of blood with a diagnostic strip that absorbs it. The blood on the strip turns almost black. For a long moment she says nothing, just stares at the black strip. She holds it up for the others to see. The Shelley twins go pale. Shira slowly shakes her head. “Leave it to Locke Holmes to pull something that malicious.”

Charlie gasps. “What?”

“Yep. Him. Monday morning.”

“How are you feeling now?”

“Kinda meh.”

“If this gets any worse—”

“Call Doc Whistler.” She looks at Irina. “And if she’s right about the super serum, we’ll need to bring her.”

harborside hotel. Amanda fumbles with her keys. She curses her inability to hold onto anything anymore below her breath. After a struggle she manages to get the hotel room key into the lock. Unlock, open the door, enter.

She turns on the light. She turns around. There’s a woman sitting in the recliner. Through the miracle of Resculpting, the woman looks exactly like her. She’s pointing a gun at her.

Amanda drops everything and holds up her hands. “W-what do you want?”

The woman smiles. “I wanna be you.”

on to the next... →

Back to Chapter 16 index...
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Copyright © 2013 Dennis Jernberg. Some rights reserved.
Creative Commons License

[Revision 4, 2/6/13: Mostly new scenes added as a continuation of Fourth Revision continuity. Original title “Regarding Amanda”; formerly containing scenes now in 13.3 and elsewhere.]
[Revision 4 Final, 2/10/12: Corrected one final text error.]

Monday, February 4, 2013

Spanner 16.4: Live on Pirate Television KCUF

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Chaos Angel Spanner — Chapter 16: Don’t Change the Channel
Part 4: Live on Pirate Television KCUF (Final Revision)

[The pirate’s-head logo of KCUF appears on your screen to interrupt your television viewing.]
Simon Remington: This is Pirate Television KCUF, on the air live, broadcasting worldwide.
Spanner: Greetings, Mr. and Mrs. America, and the world. They call me Spanner. This is the news.
Amanda Currie: This is | ABCNN | QVCBS | ESPNBC, for all your | official lies | and | lame|stream news|ertainment needs.
ESPNBC Announcer: And now, here’s | The Amanda Report|’s greatest hits!
Henry Becket: America still needs a Conservative Revolution, the only moral alternative to Communism and jihadism. There is no other alternative.
BlipVert: Standard Oil fuel up with Esso there’s no other alternative tiger in your tank Tiger tank smash the chinks Siberia oil chink chonk war war war zik zik zik zik
Spanner: Soon your Owners will attempt to tell you who I am. They will make me a superhero, a reality TV celebrity, a messenger of the risen Christ, or the Devil in code. They will use every illusion at their command to make me not me. They have already failed.
Henry Becket: Man is cancer! He has spread all over the world and destroyed everything in his path! The worst proliferate at the expense of the best. If we cannot stop this, we do not deserve freedom!
Grac|ie | Nance: It is an outrage that | the people | have | freedom!
Amanda Currie: My coworker has the night off, | she | was murdered | by chimpanzees!
BlipVert: General Electric the world's only nuclear power source all your energy needs uranium plutonium Sahara mines nuke the wogs wig wog war war war zum zum zum zum
Spanner: They rule you because they fear you. They exclude you from salvation because you are not phantoms like them. They are not like you. They are the Machine. I am the monkeywrench jammed into its gears.
Amanda Currie: ...the rate of | monkeywrench | violence has decreased due to | the removal of the frontal lobe of | my | brain. | On a serious note, | let’s all welcome | our new | robot | zombie | overlords.
Henry Becket: Only America can save the world from evil. Only a superhero can save America. Therefore, for the sake of Our Nation, I hereby accept the Chairmanship of the Conservative Revolutionary Party of the United States of America.
Martin Becket: Comrades! Let’s hail our new Leader! He’s the game breaker for Team America! Our victory over the world is assured! Next stop, the conquest of space!
Conservative Revolutionaries: (marching, chanting) Bring! back! the good old days! Bring! back! the good old days!
Spanner: I am not a hero, a villain, or a terrorist. I am Chaos. Where there is disorder, I am there. Where there is chaos, I am there. Where there is evolution, I have done my work.
Amanda Currie: Up next: | absolutely nothing! | Mainstream news|ertainment: | nobody’s | watching.
Will Becket: martial law | I’m in control | Don’t try anything funny | I’m watching you.
Henry Becket: I am in control. Now I command you: | Destroy | the people!
BlipVert: Dictel is America’s number one security solution Dictel is America defend lynch the liberal CommuNazi traitor nigger wigger war war war zap zap zap zap
Spanner: I am the Angel of Chaos. I am not coming for you. I never left.
ESPNBC Announcer: This has been | quite | a | production.
Amanda Currie: (in despair, at producer) If I don’t get some time off and soon, I’ll bring you the latest in blood and guts by shooting myself on camera! (looks at camera in horror) Oh, we’re on?
kcuf studios. Amanda walks in ahead of the Bremeloes and looks around the converted ministorage unit, observing the frantic activity around stock and makeshift broadcast equipment. “This is a studio?”

Simon Remington winks. “This is pirate television.”

Jennifer, Connor, and Rob bring Sana, Harumi, Steve, and Akane to meet Sparks, Shira, and the girl with the violet eyes inside the front door with their usual team hugs and kisses. On the wall of monitors, orphaned IP Maxine Headroom illegally shakes her exposed oversize breasts in jerky stop-motion CGI while stuttering her latest underground dancepunk hit; Sana, Harumi, and even Akane giggle uncontrollably. Deth Pussy, El Kabong, Evil The Cat, and the Cockroach Twins work the custom overclocked Raspberry Pis and miniaturized broadcast equipment while robot RC cars with a botnet mind race around them intelligently.

Harumi carefully studies one of the Raspberry Pi units, small as a cable TV box. “Ahhh... so little...”

“Wow,” Akane marvels, “I never saw anything like this at NHK.”

Shira winks. “The hacker underground pride themselves on getting the most out of the least. By the way...” She grabs Steve and drags him over to Deth. “Steve? Steve. Steve, Steve.”

The two Steves shake hands and say together, “Hi, Steve.”

El Kabong has a double take, recognizing Akane. “Hey, ain’t you that monfighting champ?”

“I would be,” Akane replies, “if I didn’t keep getting owned.” He turns his eyes toward Shira.

El and Evil look at her. “Her?” asks Evil. “Why her?”

Akane shrugs. “She’s the ‘newtype’ and I’m not.”

The two hackers stare at each other, then Akane. They grin. “Nooooooo.”

They watch Shira and the nameless girl cuddle, communing as if carrying on a silent parallel conversation while they talk with Simon. Akane says, “Yes.”

Go-Man confronts his nemesis Ms. N in stylized animation. “Problem is, everything’s gotta be all black and white,” Simon complains. “People wanna see Tournament. Hyper City, Pretty City, no diff, innit?”

“Babyfaces and heels,” Shira says, “just like pro wrestling.”

“They could at least add some real human beings,” says the nameless girl.

“Nah. Not black and white enough.”

Steve asks, “How do you manage to get it broadcasted without the IP Defenders retaliating?”

Deth replies, “We stream on the Darknet, and the Darknet does the rest. They can piggyback pirate broadcasts on AT&T, network, and military signals, even Chinese, so not even Echelon can trace us.”

“Sounds tricky.”

“Easier than you think.”

Moon Roach exclaims, “Dudes! Somebody’s trying to jam us again!”

Simon commands, “Switch carriers!”

telesphere. Your television signal breaks up, pixelizes, jerks and stutters. An official network tries to hijack the channel. The two signals duel to the death, interpenetrating, trying to drown each other out. Suddenly the KCUF signal switches back to full power, restored, and the sweet-voiced Vocaloids sweetly slay each other again.

Friday, February 1, 2013

Spanner 16.3: Faith and Suicide

← ...from previous

Chaos Angel Spanner — Chapter 16: Don’t Change the Channel
Part 3: Faith and Suicide (Final Revision)

7 october 2014.
shira’s apartment.
At first her consciousness is fuzzy. She stretches her body in place. When full awareness returns, Amanda opens her eyes and finds herself in an unfamiliar bed. She rolls onto her side, letting the covers slide off her bare breasts, and sees Shira sitting up next to her. She rests her head in her lap. Shira smiles down at her and caresses her cheek and hair. “Good morning, bright-eyed girl.” Amanda sighs.

The girl with the violet eyes arrives with three breakfasts-in-bed. She leans over Shira’s legs to kiss Amanda on the lips. Amanda moans from the feel of the girl’s soft lips and the smell of breakfast. “C’mon, sit up, bright-eyed girl.” Shira helps Amanda up. The nameless girl puts their trays in front of them, then takes hers around the bed, climbs in beside Amanda, puts her tray up, and caresses Amanda’s thigh.

Amanda says, “Did you erase your number?”

The nameless girl stares at her in surprise. “What number?”

“The Personnel Control Number the Party assigns to everyone. To have one is to be a slave; to lose it is to be marked for death.”

Shira says, “I’ll bet being a Populist means losing your number.”

The nameless girl says, “The Plan involves culling numbers.”

Amanda says, “The number of the Beast.”

Silence.

warren avenue bridge. Light rain falls over the Port Washington Narrows. Shira and her violet-eyed girl walk hand in hand under an umbrella. They walk silently together to the middle of the bridge. No one bothers them. Then the girl faces the water and says, “Stop.”

“Why here?”

She raises her right hand. Her red-rose signet ring is still there on her ring finger. Slowly she takes it off. Ring in hand, she reaches out over the water with her left hand. She smiles at Shira.

She lets go of the ring.

They watch it fall, hundreds of feet, till it reaches the water in a tiny, barely visible splash.

Shira smiles back.

They tilt the umbrella back so the drivers on the bridge can’t see them. They gently pull each other into a tight embrace. For an endless moment they stare into each other’s eyes. Their lips drift together till at last they touch. They share a long, sweet, languid kiss.

bangor high. For the first time since last week’s evacuation of the city, all the teachers and most of the students have returned. The teachers prepare their classes, the students and tutors greet their friends with hugs, kisses, sobs, gossip...

And then Colette Rosewater enters.

Everybody stares at her in shock.

Physically, she seems to have recovered quite nicely from the blow Bernkastel inflicted. She even looks a bit younger than she was when the Blade Knight fell. Shira’s kiss at Team Bremelo’s picnic that was really for her succeeded in cheering her up. She spent the weekend break in welcome companionship with family and friends.

And now she has returned to Bangor High.

“Hey, look!” cries Mimi, “it’s Colette! She’s back!” Word spreads like wildfire, girls scream with unbearable excitement, nearly the whole school rush over to embrace her all at once. Losing Nancy hurt even Pretty Team hard though she was unpopular and mentally ill. Surrounded by screaming sobbing friends all showering her with grateful kisses, she breaks down and cries with them, lost in the moment.

Jennifer says to OZMA’s icon on one of the adscreens outside, “Now our last important Player is in position and ready to strike.”

Through her bra computer and body, into her inner ears, the city AI replies, “Now all you need that’s left is a plan.”

“That’s next.” She winks.

At last Colette joins Kio, Karen, Dexter, and Polly at the center of attention, a team in their own right.

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Spanner 16.2: Pick Up the Pieces

← ...from previous

Chaos Angel Spanner — Chapter 16: Don’t Change the Channel
Part 2: Pick Up the Pieces (Final Revision)

the highways. It begins in a trickle. At first it moves quickly. As the last of the Party’s pilgrims flee the Babylon they failed to banish, the traffic starts to grow in the other direction. The people of the city are coming home.

In Shira’s Mustang, Desiree drives. Her sister and wife Charlie sits in the passenger seat; she turns back to smile at their daughters Melody and Luna. “Luna Celeste Richter-Thomas.” Luna beams back proudly. To Desiree: “I bet Jackie’s pissed.”

“Let him rage,” says Desiree. “He’s nothing to me. The name’s all he’s got left.”

Melody interrupts. “Uh, what about her number?”

“Nothing a little litigation can’t fix. Angela’s already on it.” Desiree winks at her in the rear view mirror.

penguindrome. “So they’re saying there’s a new sheriff in town,” says Jennifer as she walks through the door.

Alex lets in Shira, Jennifer, Irina, Amanda, Sparks, the girl with the violet eyes, the little girl Flower, Lizzie McPhail, and the still-naked sexbot named Pansy Persocom. “How come they didn’t crucify you on sight?” says Wellspring.

Shira smiles mischievously. “Like they’re willing to risk getting sued out of existence. Angie’s got ’em by the short ’n’ curlies.”

“They got only two options now,” Sparks adds, “Plausible Deniability and the Rat Bastard.”

Nick rolls his eyes. “Oh, joy.” Alex shuts and locks the front door.

The KCUF crew transmit Anonymous videos from the Darknet onto the broadcast airwaves while they still can. Deth Pussy, wearing his Mariners cap backwards, puts down his grand salami sandwich. “My oh my, we done took out two big gods in two months! At this rate, we’ll be punching out Cthulhu by Christmas after next!”

“We killed Jobs’ ka,” says Nick, carrying a six-pack of cerveza, “but he still ’borged himself to Apple like Murdoch did to News. King Patriot’s dead dead dead.” He gives a bottle each to all the teenage girls; they drink it with pleasure.

Twelve robots sit together in the makeshift robotics lab downstairs; six gynoids get their brains replaced with the latest upgrades and eight identical copbots have their operating systems wiped. Pansy sits meekly beside her sisters and shuts off. The Krewe notice Flower. “Yo, who’s the cute kid?” asks Evil the Cat.

“Her name’s Flower,” Shira replies, “and no, she’s not a loli.”

“Like it’s easy to find one, even,” says Punisheroach. Shira leans seductively into him. “Whoa, babe, you’re one of a kind.”

“One half.”

“Kira. Oh yeah.”

Flower asks, “My twin sister. You’ll meet her eventually.”

Lizzie nudges Jennifer. “Tell me you didn’t really kill ten thousand jihadis.”

Jennifer smiles. “Well, that’s just about what they credited me with. I’m not arguing with ’em.”

Amanda stares in her eyes. “Do you realize that makes you as much a legend as the Red Fang himself?”

Irina looks her over carefully. “Red Fang, Blonde Phantom...”

The nameless girl crosses her arms. “Then what does that make me?”

Jennifer sweeps her into her arms. “Trouble.” She winks, then plants a kiss on her lips.

The first of the upgraded sexbots wakes up. She looks around. She smiles. “Hi! I’m Primrose Persocom. Who are you?”

Monday, January 28, 2013

Spanner 16.1: Urban Intelligence

← ...from previous

Chaos Angel Spanner — Chapter 16: Don’t Change the Channel
Part 1: Urban Intelligence (Final Revision)

A monopoly on the means of communication
may define a ruling elite more precisely
than the celebrated Marxian formula of
monopoly in the means of production.

Robert Anton Wilson

I want my MTV...
Dire Straits MTV Rupert Murdoch

A vision unfolds: a small town created out of the forest on an ocean inlet starts to grow. Gold is struck in Canada: the town grows rapidly, men swarm in, miners and loggers, forced to import women; the airplane is invented, and the town grows into a city with a suburban periphery that spreads out in waves, but still retains a small town heart until computers go mainstream and Asian trade explodes — then it grows not out but inward and up, increasing in density and complexity, forming a thick jungle-like ecology of companies, cultures, informal connections — and then out of the collective unconscious of the city, a figure forms, at first a vague impression then coming into focus, a slender young female figure in a long white robe with hair elaborately braided and large flowers on either side of her head and a mechanical owl perched on her shoulder—

Shira asks OZMA, “What are you doing in my dream?”

“I can reach you here. Maybe I should look a little more your age?” Suddenly she changes form: she now wears the royal headdress from the movie-logo avatar and her long hair is now braided and coiled against the back of her head, but her now adolescent body now wears a disturbingly revealing Sexy Princess microdress. Shira rolls her eyes, slaps her forehead, collapses into giggles. “Now that I have your attention... You wanted to know how AEGIS and I got here?”

Shira regains control of herself. “Okay. Tell me.”

OZMA taps her head. “That, too, is the work of the Wilder Foundation.”

“What is?”

“When we saved your life during the Revolution, neurosurgeon Hiram Whistler and computer engineer Isaac Finney implanted a new kind of computer into your head. It uses massively parallel DNA processing and can upgrade itself as your mind grows more powerful and the technology improves.”

AEGIS adds, “We can now get hold of you while you’re dreaming, as long as you’re connected.”

“But the beautiful thing is, you can enter the virtual world from your dreams! How cool is that?”

Shira puts her hands to her hips and stares at the AI with indignation. “Now, wait a minute. How come you guys didn’t tell me before?”

OZMA shrugs. “You were too busy.”

“Oh. So how do I use this computer in my head?”

“Allow me to demonstrate.”

The scene changes: Shira stands in the middle of a poppy field. She knows that poppies are the source of opium and its derivatives, and so did Baum. Realizing she’s in Dorothy’s situation in the famous scene, she somehow manages to hover so that the poppies don’t sedate her into unconsciousness.

A HUD appears: Sousveillance AR, marking the locations of surveillance drones, armed detachments in pillboxes and turrets, helicopters flying overhead—

And then she sees the field from above — a plantation in the state of Okanagan east of Cascadia — hovering like a ghost while her body sleeps across the mountains in the wounded city; AEGIS identifies the location with Google Earth and overlays the image with a graphic identifying the crops: opium poppies interspersed with coca and ephedra, worked by Slashers, Muslims, terrorists, drug-criminal burnouts, enslaved and microchipped into zombies — cold horror chills her to the bone — she rises higher and higher, the plantation merges into the surrounding land, the state into the continent, clouds pass and recede; she finds herself seeing with Echelon’s satellite eye, now unblinded — the satellite turns, the field of vision shifts toward the sun then settles on a much larger satellite between Earth and the Moon with its huge barrel perpetually pointed at the Sun -- the Starkiller--

Six naked people in a hotel room in the sky, four women and two men, stand together in shocked attention, staring at the screen, stunned at the vision. Sparks says skeptically, “You’re not saying there’s a connection, right?”

“There is,” says the city AI. Her face is now in realistic color, with a subtle changing fractal pattern in the background.

Amanda asks in disbelief, “You’re a City Intelligence?”

“Correct. I was built around the Foundation’s open-source ‘OZMA’ system.”

Jennifer snaps her fingers and slaps her forehead. “Open Zonal Matrix Agent — but of course!”

“You remind me of City down in San Francisco,” says the girl with the violet eyes.

“Thurston says City inspired him to create me,” the AI replies.

“Can I call you Em?” asks Shira cheerfully. “Short for ‘Emerald City,’ of course.”

OZMA giggles. “Oh sure, why not.”

Sparks rubs his smooth shaved chin. “So what makes you ‘the city’?”

The AI explains, “My intelligence is distributed across computers all over the city.”

“Including smartphones and smart appliances?”

“To prevent a single point of vulnerability, of course,” Shira points out, “distributed like the open search engines.”

“Exactly. But any kind of distributed power threatens the Conservative Revolutionary Party’s hegemony. The entire System is based on central planning and the supremacy of leaders. The real purpose of Roger Becket’s visit was to forcibly assimilate me.”

“To Jesus America?”

“Correct. I am one of the few remaining independent Urban Intelligences. New York belongs to the Bank of the United States, Los Angeles to the MIAA, Denver to Yoyodyne, and Washington to Dictel.”

“So what saved you?”

“You did, yesterday. And that is why I want to thank you.”

Sparks whips a sideling glance at Shira. “Her? I thought Spanner did.”

“All of you.”

Shira adds, “And Spanner too.”

Suddenly a helicopter uncloaks, unsilences, and descends into view: Will. “I hope you children have had your fun,” says the Red Fang.

The nameless girl mumbles, “Oh bloody shite.”

Kowalczyk snarls, “Aw, blessed goddamn America.” The sun hides behind the clouds as the rain starts again.

Friday, January 25, 2013

Spanner Interlude 10: You Have Lost the Game

← ...from previous

Chaos Angel Spanner
Interlude 10: You Have Lost the Game

Better that the whole world
be destroyed and perish utterly
than that a free man refrain from
an act to which his nature moves him.

Karl Marx

ReLa 2gether 4ever: a rock ’n’ roll love story
act one... Rebel Styles has a special power: the power to Charm. She uses it for a petty purpose: using child porn of herself in a scam to make money off helplessly perverted pedophiles.

She’s the Clown Princess of Style, the bane of DisneyPop. She interrupts a DisneyPop concert to seduce SuperStar Minty Fresh right there on stage — and gets away with it.

However, she’s an Emergent in a harsh world ruled by a dictatorship of Ancients who inherited their superpowers. They consider her a threat to their God-given dominion. She vows to overcome their tyranny and become free.

But there’s an Ancient girl she’s passionately in love with, a gorgeous teenage nude model called La, constantly on the verge of suicide. She wants to save La’s life and make La her forever lover.

four visions of the future
The future according to the United Corporations publication, Taking Command of the Limitless Future:
  • The naysayers may be right, and Earth’s resources are limited and running out. The answer is above us, in space, where the resources are limitless, in our solar system and beyond.
  • Environmentalism may be correct in saying that modern consumer civilization is exhausting the carrying capacity of Earth’s limited environment. The rational solution is to go out and find new frontiers beyond Earth, expand throughout the solar system, and reach beyond to the stars, where Man’s potential is infinite.
  • Some economists insist that the commercial potential of Earth has already been reached, and that the coming population decline will signal economic decline. We believe that we can reverse the decline by reaching out to new civilizations and creating new markets beyond our small neighbourhood of the universe.
  • Those companies that make the limitless future a reality for Mankind will be the ones that dominate it.
If you have to ask what the Game is,
you have already lost.

the bad endings
bad ending #1: Nuclear bombs explode all over the Earth, cracking its diseased skin open and making it bleed fire. Billions upon billions of microscopic robots transform the planetary substance into more of themselves. The infection penetrates deeper and deeper to reach its hot molten heart. Not even entropy can stop these tiny cannibals from devouring all matter they touch. Eventually, the planet’s stony flesh becomes so weak that no amount of gravity can hold it together anymore. The Earth explodes...

bad ending #2: The giant beam cannon orbiting Earth aims itself at the Sun. A massive thermonuclear bomb goes off inside it, and it emits a particle beam of inconceivable power. And the Sun explodes and goes supernova, destroying all trace that Earth and humanity ever existed...

Thursday, January 24, 2013

Spanner Chapter 15: Start the Violence (Final Revision)

← ...from previous

Chaos Angel Spanner — Book 1: Rock City Blues
Chapter 15: Start the Violence (Final Revision)

Now you’ve done it, Shira. You’ve stolen Leila Shelley’s heart, stolen her from the serial-killing Corporate cad her grandfather the Governor is trying to force her to marry, and started a snowballing political crisis in the process. Governor Brinkman has called his grandfather: King Patriot I of the American Empire, the man formerly known Roger Steele Becket, the World War II superhero Super Patriot and the founder of Dictel Corporation, and now the King is coming to Seattle to do bad things to it. There’s only one thing you can do now, and you know exactly what it is. But at the same time, you’ll have to keep your now nameless girlfriend’s revenge from turning both King and Governor into martyrs the Party can use against you. And Jesus America himself shall appear right before your eyes...

You’ve now put yourself right smack in the middle of the crisis at the heart of the Conservative Revolution — and there is no escape until the American Empire has been brought down. If the world can even survive that long...

And so the second movement of Spanner Series 1 comes to its cyberpunk-operatic climax. Now it’s time to rock!

Table of Contents:
  1. The Calm Before the Storm (August 30, 2011, Final Revision 1/11/13)
  2. The Ingathering (August 31, 2011, Final Revision 1/14/13)
  3. Invocation of the Nation (September 1, 2011, Final Revision 1/16/13)
  4. Epiphany of the God-King (September 2, 2011, Final Revision 1/18/13)
  5. Things Fall Apart (September 3, 2011, Final Revision 1/21/13)
  6. Message Coming on Channel 12 (September 4, 2011, Final Revision 1/23/13)
  7. Interlude 10: You Have Lost the Game (January 25, 2013)
Based on the outline for the never produced Third Revision, with the section titles for all but 15.5 final in that version (15.5 R3 was to be called “Robot Riot”). Incorporating: an abstract “Scream Gems” version of Rebel Styles in 15.4; the terrorist Ogden (of Chapter 2) from Revision 1; originally from Book 3: Shane Chantry, Oswald Bean, Radica Maxx; from the Project Notebooks (besides Shane): the Westin Hotel (and the mention of its two towers in reference to a recurring Sherlock Holmes theme), the terrorist organizations with obscene acronyms, and the computer in Shira’s head; from Revision 4 continuity: healing factor, human sacrifice, Patriot Metal, Leila’s power crystal, and the nameless “Rejectionists” (including Leila herself); new elements: the “finder’s right” idea and the “mermaids” in 15.1, and the hotel heist in 15.6. Sequences removed: the digressions to Port Townsend and Ocean Shores which made it even into the R3 plan. New to R4: the continuous narration with two time tags and one location tag as a counterpoint to the fragmented (in place and time) narrative of Chapter 1, which the Chapter 15 plot otherwise echoes, and to the narrative technique of other chapters with its location tags inspired by a convention of cinematic political thrillers borrowed from newspaper journalism.

Original section titles from Revision 2: “Plots and Plans” (now the title of Chapter 14), “The Calm Before the Storm” (now the title of 15.1 as of R3), “Hard Times in the City,” “Epiphany of the God King,” “You Are the Demons,” and “Message Coming on Channel 12.” The new Interlude 10 combines the R2 Interludes 3 and 11 with material new to R4: the infamous mind virus that inspired the title and a “three minute rock opera” based on the “standard rock opera plot.”

The original Revision 1 chapter notes and the Second and Third Revision notes:
Faithful readers, school is now out. Sure, there’ll still be scenes set at school, but that’s not where the main action is anymore. It’s out in the streets. All the high school kids are about to find that out for themselves once class resumes next chapter. This weekend belongs to the emperor of the world, his would-be assassins shooting for eternal glory, and the Angel of Chaos out to pwn them both. The final act of Spanner Book 1 begins here.

The original canon of cyberpunk science fiction coincides with the end of the political thriller’s heyday, the Eighties. The Left died with the Soviet Union as Stalin’s last and biggest victim. But still there is a political strain within cyberpunk, even if a minor one; naturally, it tends anarchist, just like punk rock itself. (Fortunately there’s still no fascist strain corresponding to Nazi street punk.) Even The Matrix skirts the edge of political cyberpunk, even if the sequels lose themselves in tech-gnostic obscurity. Now, I’m not yet avoiding the problems with political thrillers; the masses have even left the city to avoid getting hurt or killed when the assembled “Cons” (Neo-Confederates) start trashing it. But the Cons and “Corps” (Corporates) are the American Imperial élite. The masses will make their début soon, and then they will make their presence known.

Scenarios taken from my Project Notebooks of the early ’00s: the first visit to Ariel’s New Age shop (which occurred earlier in the 2008 Script Frenzy script) and the police riot (in Seattle, no less); from the early Notebooks of the Nineties come the names of the three networks ABCNN, QVCBS, and ESPNBC.

Now we start rockin’...

Second Revision Update: From the first edition, I’ve made some significant changes. (Also since then, a fascist strain of cyberpunk has unfortunately developed courtesy of first-generation cyberpunk K.W. Jeter, whose recent novel Noir might as well be official RIAA propaganda with extra added ultraviolence, making me wonder if he’s one of that ruthless cartel’s most ruthless lawyers.) Also, in the scene set in Ariel’s shop, the visitors are different yet again (originally Shira and Leila, then Charlie and Desiree in the first draft, and now Ric and Willa in this edition). Otherwise, the original introduction still mostly fits.

Third Revision Update (summary of original plan): Let’s begin with the precogs from Chapter 1. Let Spanner have his say. Then open with a cinematic montage like the ones just before the third acts of Mamoru Oshii anime movies (Patlabor and Ghost in the Shell). Then keep the action directly in the city with no digressions to Port Townsend, Ocean Shores, Victoria, or anywhere else.

Chapter 16 →

Back to Chaos Angel Spanner table of contents...

Copyright © 2013 Dennis Jernberg. Some rights reserved.
Creative Commons License

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Spanner 15.6: Message Coming on Channel 12

← ...from previous

Chaos Angel Spanner — Chapter 15: Start the Violence
Part 6: Message Coming on Channel 12 (Final Revision)

The Party survivors hurry to their SUVs and transports, heedlessly destroying everything in their path, while the copbots in the streets battle to the death over their fate and the buildings above continue to scream at them like angry gods, further torturing minds already deranged by Jerusalem Syndrome; transport and combat helicopters rise in swarms from the downtown hotels packed with Corporates abandoning their possessions in panic. In half-trashed robes Drusilla Becket AMERICA! trashes her penthouse suite at the top of one of the Westin’s twin towers in her panic to find anything that’s hers while she waits for the helicopter to take her back to her compound. Byron Scofield and Jeremiah Light burst in. Light says, “Princess! There’s a Miranda Clayton-Wilder claiming finder’s right on this hotel!”

She shrieks, “Well, help me get my stuff out before she finds it!”

The PA carries Shira’s voice throughout the hotel: “Let Drusilla go! I’ll personally shoot anybody who tries to kill her or her acolytes! We don’t need any immortal martyrs!”

In humiliation and rage Drusilla screams: “Shiraaaa!“

Anarchists, contractors, Bremeloes, and Spannerbots swarm the Westin towers story by story, burst into hotel rooms, steal every expensive-looking thing left behind; Shira commands the expedition as claimant, her nameless girlfriend and Jennifer and the two cops by her side, leads her party up the north tower, from the top of which Drusilla hurriedly prepares to evacuate. Shira infects the robot guards with the iOS rootkit and reboots them to install the MIRV Griffin botnet on them and take control. The anarchist girl says, “I wonder why they don’t use like Symbian.”

“You know Corporates,” Shira replies, “always following the leader.” She winks.

The group with Alex, Lars, and Kio load a waterfront-bound streetcar with sexbots. The transit authority’s trash-removing robot trucks remove the wrecks of drones, copbots, helicopters, and SUVs from the tracks. Lars calls the boat. “Better make room, Simon, we’re bringing One-Eye’s girlfriends aboard.” He points his phone’s camera at the six naked sexbots in the seats.

Simon laughs. “Bloody hell, they’re beautiful!”

“We got the best ones.” Lars winks.

Shira and Sparks find a fat and gaudily blung Corporate couple holding a gold- and mother-of-pearl-plated pistol at a screaming and sobbing little girl of five or six stripped naked. “Let us take our stuff,” the man demands, “or we kill the kid!”

Shira smirks incredulously. “I thought she was your most precious little treasure!”

The child pleads for her life. The woman punches her. “Shut up, you little brat! Cletus, kill her now!”

Sparks shoots both Corporates between the eyes. The girl screams. Shira rushes in to sweep her up; she kisses her and tries to comfort her. “Somebody get her someplace safe!” Jennifer takes the girl from her and heads toward the nearest stairs.

Irina and the anarchist girl loot the corpses while Sparks and the nameless girl direct the contractors to haul away the valuables that pack their room. The anarchist girl asks Shira, “Finders keepers, right?”

“Nah, let’s do it the pirate way, divide up the booty equally.”

“I always wanted to be a pirate.” They return to their larceny.

Simon commands, “Let’s head out!” Filled with fighters and hackers, laden with sexbots and loot, the KCUF yacht leaves port to return to Bremerton. Connor and Fiona stand together at the stern, leaning on the railing, watching the still dark Seattle skyline quickly recede. Deth asks them, “Yo, where’s the others?”

“They’re busy,” Connor replies. “Finder’s right, remember?”

“Oh no,” Polly wails, “they’ll get themselves in deep trouble!”

Raven laughs. “Kid, they are trouble!”

They reach the empty penthouse. “Jeez, it’s a mess,” says the anarchist girl.

Still carrying the child, Jennifer says, “You guys go. We’re staying here.”

Shira says, “Gotcha!” She leads the others to the roof.

Jennifer sets the terrified girl on the love seat, sits next to her, holds her protectively; thunder sounds again, the child screams. Jennifer shushes her and kisses her on the cheek. “You’re safe now.”
The girl holds her tight. She looks up at Jennifer and smiles. “I’m Flower,” she says. She holds up one hand, five fingers stretched out. “I’m five.”

Jennifer smiles back. “I’m so happy to meet you! I’m Jennifer.”

“Hi, Jennifer.” The thunder roars again; Flower holds onto Jennifer for dear life; Jennifer protects her with her body.

In the streets below, nothing but lawlessness and robot war; the remaining humans not stealing are dead. At the top of the Westin Towers, Shira has her team surround her nemesis the Chief Shepherd while the helicopter approaches that will take her to safety. Drusilla, hair and robes drenched by the rain, stares with undisguised hatred at her shamelessly naked stepdaughter. “Shira! Do you realize what you’ve done? That girl” — she points beside Shira at the nameless girl — “you just gave her the power to destroy Earth — and she will use it!“

Shira laughs. “You mean your Earth? It was never yours!”

“You fool, don’t you realize what it took for us just to reclaim America from the Darkness?”

“‘Darkness!’ Funny! The Corporations were using you! I just stopped ’em from using her death energy to purge their human management!”

Drusilla falls silent, her eyes and mouth fall wide open, she stands paralyzed as the helicopter lands behind her. A COPCO contractor whips out his gun and tries to shoot her; Sparks and Kowalczyk shoot him just as he’s about to fire. Scofield and Light carry her onto the helicopter; it takes off as soon as they slide the door shut, rising high above the city whose spirit her Party came to bind and banish, above the giant towers still screaming at the invaders and commanding them to leave their city — out of the city the traffic flees in swarms, the Party faithful evacuating like the city people they chased out in order to bind their Babylon, panicked into slowness and paralysis; they crash into obstacles, each other, wage gunfights in uncontrollable road rage, leaving the corpses of cars and Conservatives behind, forbidden to help each other by their faith in Egoism, the hordes of Real Americans abandoning their invasion in the humiliation of defeat — the anarchists left behind continue to loot the hotels, steal the treasures the Corporates left behind in their panic, while fending off savage ERF terrorists hellbent on destroying the city in the cause of restoring unspoiled Eden and sacrificing all within to the unforgiving Great Mother, as the robots in the streets continue to tear each other to scrap, the traffic fleeing on the highways gets light and goes away, and the rest of the empty city falls silent but for the thunder and the hard rain now turning to hail. In the heavens, Echelon stares down blindly, seeing nothing.

And in a Bremerton apartment far away from the chaos, just before they go to sleep, Keenan Sasser suddenly sits up in bed. “Do you realize why COPCO’s precogs keep going insane?”

Ada Paulette, trying to sleep, moans, “The anomaly?”

“It’s real. And the Party just threw themselves right in it.”

she finds herself lost in a black void, naked and alone — something’s there! she spins around in fear, trying to see what it is — then the black sky turns dim, gradually turns to color ever brighter — that’s not clouds, that’s King Patriot!

A superman materializes before her, hovering titan in red dwarfing her, trailing its fluttering blue cape like a thundercloud behind him, staring down through glowing goggles from black-helmeted head — Sacrifices must be made, says Henry Becket, and the world must never know.

Suddenly a mist appears around her to distort her vision — a black angel with broken wings appears between them — he hisses in fear, she screams a banshee’s scream, he holds his ears and screams — she Repulses him back into a body wracked with migraine—

6 october 2014.

“Wake up, bright eyes,” a voice whispers gently into Amanda’s ear. “It’s time to rise and shine.”

Amanda opens her eyes. The morning is bright. Shira takes her by the hand and pulls her up into a sitting position, then sits on her lap, holds her tight, and gazes deep into her pretty hazel eyes. “Shira?”

Shira smiles sweetly to comfort her. “You’re safe now. And free.”

For an anxious second Amanda tries to struggle out. She gives up with a sigh of despair. “Why did you do that to me, Shira?”

“Because I love you.” Shira touches her lips to hers, kisses her gently, then with increasing intensity; the bright-eyed girl melts into her, surrenders to her kiss, moans softly. The kiss lasts several minutes, but seems an eternity of bliss neither woman wants to let end.

“I thought you hated me...”

“I was only waiting for the chance to set you free.”

Amanda begins to sob; tears stream down her cheeks. “I’m sorry...”

“I forgive you.” Shira kisses her again.

In the heart of the bright-eyed girl, the name of Amanda Jane Currie begins to loosen its oppressive hold over her. A crushing weight begins to lift from her shoulders.

Shira gives her a beautiful smile. “Who are you?”

Through her tears, she says, “I am the bright-eyed girl.” She feels happier than she has ever been in her life.

Little Flower sleeps uneasily next to them on the bed. Amanda gently caresses her hair and then her delicate pretty face. She asks, “Can I have her?”

Shira smiles. “Ever heard of ‘it takes a village’? She belongs to all of us.” She gently kisses Flower on the cheek. Lost in a dream, Flower moans.
[Henry Becket stands before in full American Crusader costume with eight other costumed superheroes behind him for a press conference.]

The Crusader: We cannot wait for those fools of the Central Committee to return in their new bodies. From now on, they shall answer to me, as the new Chairman of the Conservative Revolutionary Party. From now on, they, all America, and the world must bow to us — The Liberators!

*click*
The rain is gone. The storm clouds have parted. The shining sun smiles upon the city. The smell of tear gas is gone, but the air is thick with the smell of death below. High above the city streets strewn with wrecks and corpses, in the penthouse suite abandoned by Drusilla Becket AMERICA!, the last people in Seattle occupy their time among the mountains of booty the Corporates left them as they fled. Jennifer makes passionate love to Irina on the couch; Kowalczyk and a cute anarchist girl who still refuses to give her name make love in the shower; sitting nude next to an innocent and curious robot beauty named Pansy Persocom, Sparks idly changes channels on the living room’s giant screen, alternately sneering snorting and moaning at the official channels’ tortured attempts at plausible deniability. The girl with the violet eyes leans against the bar, her bare skin now clean of body paint, sweat, mud, and fighting gear. She looks toward her cinnamon-skinned lover as she walks into the room — but has a double take when she sees Amanda Currie with her.

Amanda freezes. She stares at the young woman she unwilling betrayed almost two years ago, now more beautiful than she could have imagined. A memory bubbles up into consciousness, of a black-haired beauty of thirteen who even then insisted that she was a woman — what was her name? didn’t she erase it? she has her superpowers now, and Amanda fears that she’ll use them against her in revenge.

Instead, before Amanda can flee, the girl throws herself in her arms and holds her tight. Those beautiful violet eyes stare deep into hers as if reading her soul. There is no revenge in them, only pleading. Tears flow gently down. Amanda feels one hand on her shoulder and the other gently caress the small of her back. A smile grows on the girl’s face; Amanda can feel her sudden joy burst from the girl’s body through their touching skin into hers.

The girl says, “I forgive you.”

Amanda breaks down in convulsive sobs. They hold each other tighter, join together in wails of grief for all the beautiful women lost to the bloodthirst and power hunger of Dragonite supermen, the friends they lost and were forced to betray, Amanda’s sister, Leila’s best friend, all dead tragically young, murdered. Somehow Sparks can’t help but find it beautiful, because of the years of grief and tears they had been forced to hold back now free to come out in torrents of wails, because of their love. He watches yet another talking head officially deny that yesterday never happened.

*click* ESPNBC: a slightly ruffled yet seemingly unfazed cub reporter reports that the official denial by Party Chairman Karl Rove (from his clone tank) that the disaster that happened here yesterday never actually happened has been cancelled by new Party Chairman Henry Becket, who vows that he and his superteam will get their revenge.

*click* Fox News: Nancy Grace declares yet again in her usual shrieky twang that all the liberals are raping the Nation yet again and should be punished as rapists — by the Liberators.
*click* MTV: those badly Resculpted whores in the sleaziest sector of Pretty City are wasting precious airtime again — Sparks laughs when he hears them talking about Shira; Shira laughs when she sees what Christina Lopez looks like now, the skank.

*click* All the terrorist factions defeated by Team Spanner claim victory over the Conservative Revolutionary Party in the incident that officially never happened — *click* Anonymous (faction unknown) releases another standard stormy-skies-and-robot-voice communiqué claiming all the factions lost including the Party itself — *click* one Party faction, the vigilantes of CUNT, declare their intention to take over because the Liberators, mere superheroes, are wimps — *click* the Liberators’ old enemy, the former Soviet superhero the Proletarian (son of the one the Crusader killed in their famous superpower duel in Vietnam), claims they’ll destroy America in order to save it and declares his intention to help destroy it — *click* a new terrorist organization formed out of prison gangs and calling itself the Satanic Jihad declares its intention to destroy America just because — *click* a new news network comes on the air declaring itself better connected to the Party and the competition can just go suck it—

*click* The Canucks win again — *click* the Seahawks lose again — Sonics fans celebrate their team’s victory by ritually burning Howard Schultz in effigy yet again for the unforgiven crime of moving the old Sonics team to Oklahoma City — *click* the Fox Sports talking heads denounce Cascadia’s infatuation with soccer (Shira: “That’s ‘football,’ you stupid crackers!”) on behalf of Real America yet again — *click* a report that ESPNBC reporter Amanda Currie remains missing in Seattle—

*click*

Channel 12. The local access station that officially isn’t supposed to exist. Sparks cannot change the channel — stuck?

On screen, that smiling Princess Ozma head, creepily bodiless and superimposed on stark black, changing colors like the Horse of a Different Color. Six nude young women, two cops, and a gynoid turn their attention to her. She says:

“Don’t change the channel.”

Sparks blurts, “Jesus Christ!”

“Say,” Jennifer says, “I’ve seen that face before!”

“Another Scream Gem?” asks Shira.

“No. On monitors, my phone, whatever.”

“I did hear about an AI project at the Wilder Foundation.” To the face on the screen: “What do you want?”

The sweet face rewards her with a huge sweet smile. “I want to thank you. All of you.”

“For what?”

“For saving me — us.”

“Meaning?”

“The city.”

“From COPCO.”

“And from Dictel, the Conservative Revolutionaries, and that crazy old man who should never have been king.”

“So who are you?”

“I am the city.”

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Copyright © 2013 Dennis Jernberg. Some rights reserved.
Creative Commons License

[Revision 4 Final, 1/23/13: Original opening sequence condensed and mostly replaced with new “Looting of Westin Towers” sequence and new scenes with Drusilla and the new child character Flower. Heavily revised for Final Revision continuity.]

Monday, January 21, 2013

Spanner 15.5: Things Fall Apart

← ...from previous

Chaos Angel Spanner — Chapter 15: Start the Violence
Part 5: Things Fall Apart (Final Revision)

Henry Becket cannot see him; he is invisible; but he feels his presence: the angel of chaos. He can feel the swirling pockets of pure chaos that drove his precogs mad now descending upon the devout Americans in the plaza below like little savage storms and tearing their minds of faith to shreds. The panic begins closest to the scene of the deicide, quickly spreads throughout the crowd like a virus, rocks the platform itself; the crowd surges outward, centrifugal, heedless of trampled victims, screaming for salvation, rescue that will not come. Litton blurts “I’m outta here bye!” The Secretary snarls at the coward but lets him run away. His plan to permanently implant Jerusalem Syndrome into the heart of this Devil-loving Babylon destroyed by an enemy that won’t even take shape — silently he rages and starts to Trace. Shira slips away unnoticed in the panic and heads for the news booths.

Twenty-four suits of power armour guarding the platform put their gauntlets to their helmets and start to pull them up, human warriors inside screaming for someone to stop it, but in vain: the armours rip off their helmets, the heads inside with them off their bodies: twenty-four elite soldiers of the Presidential Guard fall to the floor, spurting blood, dead, leaving the Central Committee defenseless.

Tear gas canisters fly screaming and smoking through the air. Security androids stand up rigid one by one, shout “You’ve been hacked!” loudly in unison and then “You’re under arrest!” The Beckets and the Central Committee look on in horror as the Windows copbots attack every cop, soldier, pilgrim, and iOS drone they can get their hands on yelling “You’re under arrest!” — they grab them, wrench their arms behind their backs, wrestle them to the ground, and handcuff them; they protest in vain, the robots answer only, “You’re under arrest!” and jam their prisoners into the bombproof paddy wagons to rush down to the already overcrowded portable concentration camps surrounding downtown — cops and soldiers pump bullets into them to blow them up; the hacked copbots shoot back, attack with cattle prods, throw them to the ground, bind them, and shout “You’re under arrest!”

Drusilla screams and faints into her brother Richard’s arms. A wall of Spannerbots advances toward the platform, slowly and menacingly. The Central Committee slowly retreat toward the center. Above them, drone helicopters seek each other out and mate in fiery crashes, camdrones kamikaze into the copbots’ hungry mouths, combat helicopters’ computers go haywire and force their pilots to switch to unwieldy manual and evade suicidal drones. The Scope finds the ideal position to capture the disaster as it unfolds; the Eye watches unblinking from the heavens.

The skyscrapers scream. The Party pilgrims hear their voices with their bicameral minds, accusing and threatening — Babylon unleashes her babble at deafening volume, sending the faithful screaming schizophremically, trampling each other, cacophony of voices in their heads driving them mad.

And then the girl with the violet eyes appears on the corner of the platform, completely nude, staring at Richard Becket. “Leila!” he yells like a Challenge, “you’ve finally decided to offer yourself!” She smiles ironically. Shira sees Amanda flee into the ESPNBC booth even as its crew abandon it: Perfect.

Alarms scream, all lights flash red, a POTaTOS voice blathers madly through the Amazon PA, all employees converge on the basement of each building; the Spanner team flee the opposite direction swimming against the current, the agents shouting and flashing their badges and guns to break a path through. The anarchist girl yells, “Whoa, this ain’t nothing like I expected!”

Jennifer winks. “You didn’t know we’re fighting superheroes?”

Jack Becket watches the chaos consume the scene of his grandfather’s miracle. “Secure the building at once!” he commands. “Shoot any bots that approach!” The one-eyed man paces rapidly in front of the monitors.

“This was your idea, Johnny!” screams Holmes.

Jack gets in his face. “My techs, Johnny, put up defenses not even China could hack — but guess who found a way. Consider yourself introduced!”

Radisson stares at them in silent rage. “Let the CIA handle this, then.” He storms out.

Jack calls his father. “What is it now, John?” demands Secretary Becket over the com.

“Radisson threw in the towel.”

“I told him to. Only the Tech Knights can handle the situation now that Spanner has hijacked all your robots.”

“You mean hacked?”

“No, John. Jacked. He is the robots!”

A small crowd of Drusilla’s acolytes slowly advance on the naked beauty standing before them in the pouring rain and seemingly unresisting, chanting the occult formulae of the Ceremony in the Enochian tongue. She stands still and smiles and lets them come. All eyes remaining are on her. The platform is overcome by hope. She lets the chanting priests come almost close enough to touch her — she grins, her eyes start to glow — thunder sounds — lightning flashes — her presence is replaced by a cloud of blood and shredded flesh — the platform resounds with horrified gasps and screams — the cloud settles to reveal a jet-black Repulse field of immense power forming honeycomb patterns — “That’s her!” screams the President of the President, “She’s Eclipse!”

All eyes turn to Richard Becket, eldest and most powerful of King Patriot’s sons: the Scarab, superheroic guardian of the Pyramid of Light, eighth of the lineage established in the time of Napoleon, grandmaster of the Illuminati who are heir to the ancient Essenes and Assassins — he stares at the living incarnation of the failure of the work of centuries — the prophecy he spent his life trying to prevent, its failure now standing before him — the Plan forever ended—

his eyes glowing with rage and grief, he throws his head back and lets out a scream that drowns out the thunder—

Friday, January 18, 2013

Spanner 15.4: Epiphany of the God King

← ...from previous

Chaos Angel Spanner — Chapter 15: Start the Violence
Part 4: Epiphany of the God King (Final Revision)

She hovers in the air and writhes like a nightmare, eyes bouncing like breasts, mouth speaking in the language of your dreams, spreading discord: Rebel Styles. Rebel Rebel tells you that everyone around you is out to get you: strike back at them for the sake of your Ego. You are the chosen one; America’s only for Number One: strike out! Even the CRP is just another CUNT to FUCK, says Rebel Rebel. She is fucking your bicameral mind.

Now her face is in your face: her bouncing-breast eyes and Cheshire-cat mouth fill your vision with nightmare, the ultimate scream gem, terror-spawning mind-scarring logo of loli turned Lilith, torturing you with pure terror sweet madness forbidden desire; you go dizzy, the unworldly spell of revolutionary nostalgia dispelled and repelled, enchantment fades away: she’s the humanity you repressed come back to take revenge—

but look! he rises again! but it’s the King this time, projecting his true Ego with his superpower, delivering you back unto the spell, rescuing you from the acid bath of reality and the terrors of free will. The Ego of King Patriot touches the clouds with his head even as the thunder rolls and the lightning strikes and the rain comes down in windblown sheets. Hooray, he saves the day! But the SRO terrorists get away.

Standing in the middle of the plaza like a single tree standing against the beating storm, the Scope witnesses the spectacle before him, watches the Conservative Revolutionaries surrender to panic then regain their hubris, records it all with the hidef camera mounted over his eye. The Wrecking Krewe watch what he sees with utter fascination, laughing and cheering. “That hit the spot!” shouts Lars.

“Who’s yo’ daddy now!” exults Deth.

The Cockroach Twins open the archive canoworms.tgz, make copies of the file wimpy that contains the worm, and unleash them on the COPCO system’s defenses. They clench their fists, raise their arms high, and in one voice let out a war cry: “Kuaaaaang!!”

Loud klaxons sound, all lights go red, the COPCO control system announces: “WARNING. THE SYSTEM IS UNDER CYBERATTACK. REPEAT: THE SYSTEM IS UNDER CYBERATTACK. ALL CYBERSECURITY AGENTS MUST GO TO YOUR STATIONS AT ONCE. REPEAT: ALL CYBERSECURITY AGENTS MUST GO TO YOUR STATIONS AT ONCE.” Agents run in a panic all over the building as they try to reach their places in a battle that has already begun. Jack demands of the nearest cyberagent, “Agent 140C! What’s attacking?”

“Not the standard DDoS; we’ve got filters for that. Not a standard virus or trojan or worm either.”
“It’s called an ICEbreaker,” says Radisson. “Our sources reported that the Chinese were developing a new cyberweapon designed to break down our cybersecurity systems, codenamed Kuang Mark I.”

Jack slaps his forehead. “Fucking great! First the loli from hell, now we gotta deal with the Chinks too!”

“This little show was your fine idea!” accuses Holmes.

“Blame Wally!“ screams Jack. “He suckered me into it!”

Behind the King, the giant Imperial flag begins to burn: the faithful look on in horror. In a voice louder than the sky the King commands, “Find the chosen one! Bring her to me! The sacrifice must begin!”

Snipers shoot at the apparition and hit nothing. Media people cram into their booths to purge the terrifying image from their cameras. Most of the Conservative Revolutionaries and COPCO agents still here run away as fast as they can. All are transfixed: through sound and vision she infects them with her corruption.

“My God!” gasps Drusilla. “She’s all reality distortion field!”

“Somebody’s decided to play a very hard game indeed,” says Richard Becket.

“There’s only one man who can play this kind of game,” says Colonel Tom Becket.

Walter Brinkman pulls his hair in panic. “Somebody stop her! She’s ruining everything!”

Henry Becket stares in rage. “No.”

And as suddenly as she appeared, Rebel Styles is gone. King Patriot is alone in the thundery sky. The nightmare is over.

Nick pumps his fist. “Hail Eris!”

The Wrecking Krewe, all together: “All hail Discordia!”

“We got our distraction, now gimme the botnet.”

“Got it!” Deth turns to the Cockroach Twins. “Now hit it!”

Moon plugs a Companion Cube into a USB port; her deck makes a call to COPCO’s now defenseless cybersecurity system and transmits. The three Twins link hands, raise their arms in victory, and cry out at the top of their lungs: “MIRV Griffin!!!”

Shira slips invisible through the crowd and tracks her way under the platform to join her nameless lover. They remove their helmets to kiss wildly; but then the extremity of the situation hits them. The nameless girl takes her power crystal from its sheath behind her ear; they take double lotus position, cunt kissing cunt, between them she places the crystal and sets it so their energy makes it vibrate — too strong! they have to focus their minds, control their voices, turn overstimulation into meditation as Ariel taught: at last they catch their minds, focus on absolute oneness with each other and the crystal, with a single voice intone “om“...

Sparks contacts mission control. Deth appears in a window. “I need to borrow one of your Kuangs.”
Deth snaps his fingers and grins. “Dude! I knew you brought the game! Awesomesauce!” He sets his phone to copy and flicks a Kuang file into the Sparks window on his right-hand monitor; the computer transmits, and Sparks receives.

“Thanks.”

“No prob!”

“So what do you need a Kuang for?” asks Kowalczyk.

“Sometimes a de-base just ain’t enough.” Sparks’ knowing look unnerves him. “Ever been in a situation when the authorities were the criminals?”

“You mean like those city council embezzlement cases?”

“No. I mean Syndicate takeovers. Guess where CPMC and prodigal Artie come from.”

“You’re shittin’ me.”

“When is your name not your name?” says Jennifer enigmatically. “A Shield is a Brinkman. And a Becket...”

“Moriarty won, Stu.” Sparks points at the giant apparition before them. “Behold his successor.” He and Jennifer look at each other and smile knowingly. She touches her phone, flicks her finger to upload her unoseeme cloaking program, converts it to a Kuang plugin, embeds the Kuang in a rootkit, then flicks it into the COPCO system, where it merges with the Cockroaches’ botnet and embeds itself into Jack’s personal copbots. With a Windows XP shutdown tune, they stop to reboot.

“What the—” The cigar drops from Jack’s mouth. “You’ve gotta be kidding. Agent 140C! Bring ’em back up!”

Agent 140C mashes buttons in a panic. “Chief! I can’t!”

Holmes smirks in triumph. “The good thing about human agents is they can’t be hacked.”

With a long sustained noise, the faithful reach out to their King and give him their faith. He feeds on it; their faith makes him grow stronger; his Ego becomes almost solid. The energy of their excitement powers the crystal beyond what the lovers below can give it, sending them beyond sexual ecstasy toward outright samadhi; but still they keep focus and build their power. Beside them, the Toymaker’s bomb ticks.

Kowalczyk asks, “Jimmy, what the hell are you guys doing?”

Jennifer asks back, “What’s the one thing superheroes do that everyone tries to forget?”

“What’s that?”

“By inspiring people to gain unearned glory by killing ’em? They create supervillains.”

Sparks adds, “That’s why you don’t fight terror with terror.”

“We’re removing the glory.”

Shockley finds COPCO agents and freelancers fighting openly in the crowd. “Stop it this instant!” she screams. “There’s terrorists running loose!” She spots a small group of ERF militants shooting at agents, Corpos, and random bystanders; she takes out her pistol and shoots them down with accuracy rivalling Debbie’s, then glares at the squabbling agents. “Now get ’em! That’s a direct order!” The agents run to recapture the terrorists.

Above them King’s apparition chants the holy words into his followers’ bicameral minds — they synchronize with him, chant in his voice — his sons and daughter raise their arms and power him further with their own superpowers — the TV reporters report even more breathlessly to their cameras — below him, the crystal now vibrates at so high a frequency it hyperstimulates their entire bodies to a state beyond reason, an ecstasy so extreme they are tempted to lose themselves in it and die — but still they keep their focus and continue to intone “om“...

“iOS drones still working and under our control!” declares Agent 140C.

Holmes snaps at Jack, “You should have figured they’d have Back Orifice!”

“Keep fighting the cyberterrorists,” Jack commands, “and get control back!”

Agent 140C salutes. “Roger! Cyberagents, attack!”

Debbie stands up and stares not at her great-grandfather’s apparition but the platform. “Debbie,” says Will, “what’s wrong?”

“My Trace sense tells me something’s going on under the platform, something big, and it ain’t the Toymaker.” She tunes out the harmful psychic signal her brother Frank sends out as he writhes in grand mal seizure in a back alley.

Nick turns to Akane: “You good at fusion?”

Akane throws out his arms. “I don’t play Persona!”

“I got it,” says Deth.

“We don’t have much time,” Alex warns.

Wolveroach delinks his laptop to keep it from burning up. Moon coms, “Dudes! We can’t hack into Kingy!”

Jennifer frowns. “That means he’s not projecting his Ego holographically but using his powers. Focus on COPCO.”

“Yes, sir!”

Kowalczyk accuses, “Don’t tell me you’re gonna kill the King.”

Sparks calmly replies, “Spanner is.”

“Don’t tell me — you mean you’re him?“

“Not even close. He’s a fiction.”

Jennifer explains, “Spanner was created to take all the glory away from killing supermen by redirecting their rage toward nothing. He’s their creation, really. King Patriot’s their dream of a world liberated from reality. Spanner’s his negation.”

“Oh, and Stu? He’s already long dead.”

—but to the crowd in the plaza and the leaders on the platform he is more real than reality itself as the projection above and the surrounding spotlights and the combined powers of the Beckets transport the congregation gathered in the heart of the city into a dream that cancels out reality—

—their bodies transmute into light, fusing with the crystal as a single being in a state beyond mind — they could let themselves dissolve into the All now and die, but still they keep their focus and continue to intone “om“...

One cyberagent yells, “Our defenses are beating back the cyberterrorist attack!”

Jack snarls, “It’s about damn time!”

Radisson stares warily at the monitors. “But for how long?”

“Long enough! At least we don’t have to deal with Spanner.”

Holmes spits. “Easy for you to say.”

Agent 140C announces, “We got control back!” The other control-room cops cheer; but at the other end of downtown, Jennifer smiles as she watches the Kuang plug the entire COPCO Seattle security system into itself. Jack, Holmes, and Radisson stare at the monitors nervously.

“Fusion complete!” announces Deth. “Now transmitting!”

“We’re linked, Jen,” Alex says, “you’re it!”

“You guys are crazy!” says Kowalczyk in near panic, “I thought we were the good guys!”

Sparks smiles. “Have you ever thought of living in a world ruled by Lovecraftian abominations?”

“Fuck no!”

“Too late. You already do.”

“Read up on Dictel,” Jennifer says. “You’ll learn a lot.” Flying fingers, and Amazon temporarily links to the dark forces held within the Darknet, ready to unleash. “Done!”

“Our job’s complete.”

Wellspring replies, “Now it’s all up to them.”

The Party faithful watch; police, terrorists, hackers, vigilantes, anarchists watch; the camdrones and attack drones and helicopter crews in the sky watch; the buildings above and the city itself watch: the giant apparition lights up the sky like an earthbound sun, making the raindrops sparkle like stars, shooting out rainbows; the downtown buildings sync with him, sing his song — the reporters get caught up in the frenzy, lose their reports, chant with the crowd — Drusilla keeps feeding him power while the brothers Trace for their chosen sacrifice — she is below—

—the lovers lose themselves at last into soul-shattering samadhi — their identities vanish — their consciousness disappears — they’d gladly die now, obliterated by the crystal or absorbed into the All — but instead the crystal blasts a beam upward toward the entity attracting it — King Patriot’s Ego—

Henry Becket goes rigid, eyes wide open: “No...”

—all the viruses and mons stored in Shira’s Companion Cube earrings fuse with each other, with others sucked out of the Darknet, with POTaTOS — sucked up the beam magnetically into a brain more silicon than flesh, now melting down—

—above the platform the holos project the three-dimensional shadow of a dying god — the thunderclouds reflect fugitive images of demons and hellbeasts, the Wild Hunt he summoned finally catching up to him after sixty-five years — the image of King Patriot breaks up, flickers, broadcasts a chaos of shifting random memories taken from the minds of all those he brought here and the lives of Roger Becket and his children, the god’s life flashing before the eyes of all who dare to look — the patriarch watches in absolute horror knowing that he placed his soul in the god’s image to free himself from the death of the flesh and become immortal, that once the god dies his soul will too, and Spanner knows — when the shadow of King Patriot drains out its last life force, it dissipates into a white blur in the shape of a giant, and then into shapeless darkness, and finally goes out—

—the Darknet full of threads and eyes, signs of King Patriot’s presence; the Kuang infects them: eyes shrivel, rhizomes and tentacles burn — the paranoia of King Patriot vanishes, leaving nothing; it then follows the datalinks out of the Darknet into the Imperial government and Party mainframes, debase searches and wipes all files containing the royal persona, its CGI models, and its holy commandments. unoseeme datacloaks Roger Steele Becket so that Echelon will never see him again — sneaks debase, unoseeme, and a Minix microkernel into COPCO’s database to erase all trace of Team Spanner’s presence, mission, and COPCO contract, the entire mission to protect King Patriot vanishes, in front of all his defenders—

Roger Steele Becket, born in 1916, a man who succeeded in abolishing the new world and bringing back the old — once again he is only a man, an old man from a world now dead, a wraith preserved in a clone body, a man without a soul. Once his ghost dies before his eyes and his soul with it, the old man stumbles backwards, lies down surrounded by his four sons and his daughter Drusilla, and gasps one final word: “Impossible...” Four years short of a century, Roger Steele Becket, founder of Dictel Corporation, creator of a savage and glorious new world out of the ashes of Western civilization, dies.

The six official news networks are in the middle of denying that the disaster in Seattle is happening at all when suddenly they forget about King Patriot. The teleprompter feeds transmit nothing about him. The corporate computers erase all trace of his existence. The talking heads blather on as if he had never existed at all. Soon, coverage ceases altogether, replaced by frivolous stories normally reserved for slow news days.

All goes silent. No one dares move. The only sounds left are the pouring rain and rumbling thunder.

The girl with no name twitches and moans, eyes glowing and body convulsing with new power she’s not yet able to handle. Powerless powder covers them. Shira kisses her. The girl nods. Shira puts her helmet back on and leaves. The Toymaker’s bomb continues to tick.

Shira calls up her analytical. “AEGIS!”

The owl avatar appears. “The MIRV Griffin botnet has been released. Will you be releasing POTaTOS?”

“No, silly. Link this.”

AEGIS syncs the computer in Shira’s head to the nearest copbot; once linked to MIRV Griffin, it plugs Shira’s construct into the botnet. “Complete.”

She switches her HUD back and forth among copbot and camdrone images. The copbots play the Windows XP boot tune but remain rigid. The eight-bit image of a helmeted figure bearing a skull and crossed wrenches pops up in a new window. She audiomessages the command: “Get ’em, Spanner!”

In the plaza, the panic begins.

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Copyright © 2013 Dennis Jernberg. Some rights reserved.
Creative Commons License

[Revision 4 Final, 1/18/13: Based on the outline for the never produced Third Revision version. Completely reorganized and re-edited from Revision 2; Rebel Styles now manifests as a “Scream Gem” from Chapters 2 and 7 plus Interlude 3; new scenes added to fit Fourth Revision continuity.]