My Girl Friday

[Luna]

"Yeah, you son of a bitch, but I am from BALTIMORE and I can BARELY SPEAK ENGLISH", he said as he swung from way down South, striking the janitor in the crotch with all of his strength.  There was a muffled "awwwww DAMN" from the other occupants of the room, which Jaxx ignored. 

I swear, the fact that all my favorite parts involve somebody getting nailed in the junk (and not in a FUN way) doesn't mean I hate men...

[The Good Reverend Roger]

"Yeah, you son of a bitch, but I am from BALTIMORE and I can BARELY SPEAK ENGLISH", he said as he swung from way down South, striking the janitor in the crotch with all of his strength.  There was a muffled "awwwww DAMN" from the other occupants of the room, which Jaxx ignored. 

I swear, the fact that all my favorite parts involve somebody getting nailed in the junk (and not in a FUN way) doesn't mean I hate men...

Nutshots are funny.  Except in the UK, where they are a form of greeting.

[LMNO]

2 MILLION years of monkey evolution in the making, come ALL the way to this day and age to teach you about the club!

Yeah, motherFUCKER!

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Bad day today.  Chapter tomorrow, if time permits and the brain worms are quiet.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Part 15

Jaxx sat and listened to Hamish and the three ladies as they told their story.  The level in the bourbon bottle dropped accordingly.  When they finished, Jaxx sat back and lit a foul cigar.

"I believe YOU, on account of the disappearing ninja janitor...But this is all bullshit."

"What do you mean", Sheila asked, frowning.

"Okay", he continued, "So you're this machine intelligence, right?  And you're gonna do in the people standing in your way, before you do everyone else in."

"Uh huh", Sara said, leaning forward.

"So why are you gonna gloat about it?  Why would a computer program talk that kinda smack?"

"Maybe it's craaaaaaazy", Friday said, waggling her eyebrows.

"Naw.  It ain't like that.  That was someone talking trash.  There's a person behind this.  I can smell it."

"But", Hamish interjected, "You saw the maintenance program vanish after you killed it."

"Oh, I agree with you.  But I think the maintenance program was being directly run by a person.  A person who, among other things, doesn't know how to fight.  That thing was fast, but it fought like shit.  Also, you told me that most of the wierd zombies at The Mission just sort of stumbled toward you.  Maybe nobody was actively controlling them...Or was, but was trying to control them all at once."

"I think you're right.  It all adds up", Sara said, "But who the hell would be controlling them, and why target us?"

"You folks don't think crooked enough", Jaxx laughed, "You haven't asked the basic question, here:  In all of this, the murder of Horne, the disappearance of his backup, his murder in 'Real Time'...Who benefits?"

"Well, that's the million-dollar question", Hamish said with a snort, "And the answer is, 'nobody that we can see'.  His wife is actually worse off now, and she inherited the company."

"Does it have to be financial gain, though?" Sheila asked, "Maybe there's something else at stake here."

"Dooooooooooom", Friday giggled, "Maybe it's a madman that wants to rule the world.  Worlds."  She laughed out loud, then stopped when she saw everyone staring at her with thoughtful looks on their faces.  "What?"

Jaxx and Hamish laughed.  Jaxx turned to Friday.  "I think we can forget cash profit as the motive.  Someone needed Horne gone, and all of his copies gone, so that they could move without being interfered with."  Hamish broke in, "Makes sense.  Horne wrote the architecture, there's nothing he wouldn't know about it."

"Maybe it's time we spent a little more time looking at the deceased", he continued, "We've looked at the records and all that shit, but what do we know about the man himself, other than the fact that he and his wife got along so well after such a long marriage?  I say we go back to his office first, then his house, and see what we can find about HIM.  I mean, we're all out of leads other than that, except for weird crazy service sector programs."

"So, tomorrow..." Sheila began.

"No.  Tonight.  We've already been attacked once."

The five of them got to their feet and headed downstairs.  Sara said, "Sheila and I will meet you there.  We have to see a man about 1200 horses."

Hamish gave them a squint, but they ran down the street and started hailing a cab.  The rest of them got in Hamish's packard, and headed to Horne Enterprises.  They were greeted by the guard, who just waved them in.  Once in Horne's glass-walled (though rigged with blinds) office, Hamish started going through drawers, while Jaxx gazed around the office.

"Interesting.  It seems Mr Horne was a navy man", Jaxx said, pointing at a small model of a battleship on a small table in one corner of the spacious office.  He went over and picked it up, showing it to Hamish.  Hamish looked, and then did a classic double-take.  The name on the plaque was "USS Dakota".

"Oh, shit."

"Oh, shit is right, human scum", a woman's voice said from outside the office. Friday hauled on the cord for the blinds, pulling them up out of the way.  On the others side stood Dakota, their erstwhile liason at Horne.  Except that now her face was oozing static, and her arms tapered down to blades.  She strode toward the office door, laughing.

(to be continued)

[LMNO]

AAAAAH!
  \

[Q. G. Pennyworth]

* Q. G. Pennyworth hits fast forward on life to get to the next installment...

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Part 16

As the Dakota thing moved into the office, Jaxx drew his pistol.  The thing laughed..."Perhaps you haven't gotten it through your stupid primate head yet.  We can't be hurt with those toys."

"I ain't aiming to hurt YOU", Jaxx laughed, "I'm just making a stylish exit."  He fired three times into the glass wall to his right.  The glass wall collapsed into shards on the floor.  "Let's go", Jaxx said, dragging Friday alongside.  The three of them ran for the fire stairs, with the Dakota thing in pursuit.

(across town)

Sheila finished her pre-start checklist, and stuck her head up out of her hatch.  "Ready down here.  Everything cool up there?"

"Good to go.  No residual radiation, reloads are installed, everything in the green."

Sheila ducked back into her compartment and closed the hatch.  Master power, fan nacelles, ground surviellance radar...The panzer lifted off the ground with a howl of it's drive fans. 

It was good to be home.

"Okay", Sara said, "As a shakedown cruise, let's go play cavalry for the others."

"Are they in trouble?"

"By now?  It's been 2 hours."

"Oh, right.  Of course they're in trouble."

Sheila rotated her nacelles to the rear.  The Panzer accelerated - slowly - down Houghton Road, toward Broadway.

(Back in town)

Hamish slammed the door shut on the ground floor, as he heard - above him - the footsteps of the Dakota thing plodding down the fire stairs.  Then he dashed to catch up with Jaxx and Friday.  As he cleared the front door of the building, he heard the heavy fire door fly off of its hinges.

With difficulty, he caught up with Jaxx and Friday.  Jaxx was blowing like a whale...Like Hamish, he could have been in better shape.  Friday was essentially skipping along, singing a little song to herself...And then stating, out loud, the name of each street they crossed, as they ran in the general direction of the City Center.

"What's...the...plan?" Hamish gasped out.

"Didn't...YOU...have...a plan?", Jaxx asked.

"I thought...Friday...could do her...green fire...trick."  Behind them, the Dakota thing bellowed laughter.  It was about a block behind them, and obviously catching up.

"Can't do it", said Friday, "won't work on other intelligences operating outside the architecture."

"Faaack", Jaxx gasped.

"BROADWAY", Friday said, as they dashed across the street.  A loud howling filled the air, approaching from the East on Broadway.  As the Dakota thing crossed the street, the panzer smashed into it, knocking it like a croquet ball.  It flew 60 feet into the memorial square, impacting on the wrought iron fence, then tumbling to the ground to dissolve.  The panzer made a loop in the memorial park, and headed slowly back towards them.

"How come", Jaxx asked, leaning against the building, "You can throw 'em out windows or run 'em over, but not shoot them?  This is BULLSHIT."

"Hardly matters", Hamish said, "I know who killed Horne now."

"It's about time", Friday said with a smile, "I was afraid I was going to have to TELL you."

(To be continued)

[Raz Tech]

Hellz yes panzer girls!

This is awesome.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Hellz yes panzer girls!

This is awesome.

Thanks.

Any PROPER universe would have Panzer Girls in hovertanks.  Just saying.

[Raz Tech]

Hellz yes panzer girls!

This is awesome.

Thanks.

Any PROPER universe would have Panzer Girls in hovertanks.  Just saying.

There's just something about gorgeous mercenary ladies who hang out in dive bars and talk shit to strangers that will always win my heart.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Part 17

"So spill it", Jaxx said, as they piled into the cargo compartment of the panzer.

"Just think about it", Hamish replied, "Whomever is behind all this is utterly knowledgeable concerning the architecture of the 'universe' in which we life, and has ALMOST total power over it.  Anyone who isn't a copy of a live person can be overwritten and turned into one of those killer static-faced things."

The panzer accelerated back up Broadway, to the East.  Frantic honking of car horns was dimly audible from outside.

"And on top of that, whomever did it was desperate that all copies of Horne be eliminated AND made sure that the memories of the people in THIS world's version of Horne's false world would be edited to not know what was going on.  And since they DID know at one point what was going on, and they're copies of US, then it stands to reason that WE were edited at one point."

"You're losing me, man."

"Jaxx, when did you become a cop?"

"Long time ago.  After the war ended."

"When SPECIFICALLY?"

"Fuck, I don't know, man.  Why is that important?"

"Because at some point you were edited, and it was imperfectly done.  Hell, I don't even remember when I hired Friday."

Friday giggled.

"And let me ask you this", Hamish continued, "Tell me about the war."

"Easy", Jaxx said, I got drafted right after the Italians mined the Thames and followed it with a mini-sub raid that sank 2 of our destroyers that were on a courtesy port call."

"What about the sneak attack on New York Harbor by U-Boats?"

"That happened later, didn't it?"

"Did it?"

"Fuck, I don't know."

Friday laughed again.  "You beat the janitor bot.  You're pretty tough, Jaxx...Ever wonder why?"

"No."

"Well, it's because all of you were edited, and the editing made you a little MORE you while at the same time making it difficult for you to reflect on the contradictions in your memory.  That's why Hamish is THE archetype of the pulp gumshoe, and why you're the tough noir cop who always wins in a fight.  And it's why neither of you questioned little anachronisms like driving a Packard one day, and riding in this beast the next.  You all think it's 1960, but you all have different ideas of what 1960 looks like."

"We THINK it's 1960?", Hamish asked.

"It's 2015, Hamish.  The war ended 70 years ago.  None of you ever fought in it.  Your grandparents might have.  Everything you know is a lie.  Only I tell you the truth, but you never ask the right questions."

"OKAY", Jaxx blurted out, "Here's my question AGAIN.  Who the FUCK killed Horne?"

"Nobody", Hamish and Friday said at the same time.

"Come again?"

"He's not dead", Hamish said.

"He sorta merged with the architecture", Friday added, "And he erased - 'killed' - all copies of himself to cover his tracks.  And out of vanity."

"Vanity?"

"Well, it's hard to convince yourself that you're God or something, if there's multiple you's to convince, right?  And why share that level of power, even with yourself?"

"UM, GUYS", came Sara's voice from the turret, "You want to look at this."  A screen in the compartment flickered to life, showing the forward view from the panzer.

Horne's face, the size of a skyscraper, was ahead of them, glowering down in their direction.

(To be continued)

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Change:  1 chapter left to go.

[Eater of Clowns]

Oh fucking nice.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Oh fucking nice.

I was pretty happy with it.  I thought of going to 20 chapters, but there isn't enough story left.  I think instead I'm going to consolidate it into 15 chapters.  I have a lady doing some illustrations, and we're going to PDF it.  FREE DOWNLOADS FOR EVERYBODY.

I was just gonna let it sit when I was done, but the artist is damn good and could use it for her portfolio.

Best part is, I've got two guys with editing experience cleaning it up.