Viva la Matrix.
Due east of the sandy beach lay jagged rocks. This is where they washed ashore after battling Savage.
Duo’s cape magnificently rides the wind. Somewhere out there…at the bottom of the sea. I can almost feel it. His memories fade-in over his eyes…Savage’s lair, the bottomless pit of fire, the alter, the terminal. I touched it. What did it do to me? It gave me power. It let me send us here. Send us from danger. Maybe I…what was it the old man said? I am ‘the one’? Lets see about that.
Duo’s fingers stretch. His arm extends towards the water.
The ocean drinks itself in a line of whirlpools. Each spins deeper until they consume one another and two walls stand sixty feet high. The oceans regroups into mighty waves, each pelting the barrier. An alley of sand dips into the black—its as inviting as a red carpet. A ray of light from the spotlight of the moon on the terminal.
He blinks. The Matrix is at his feet.
There you are. I’ve been worried about you.
He forgets the consequences. He cradles the terminal, protecting it like a parent. Much like a child, the Matrix can not control its response. The power of universes finds Duo a more tempting host—suffocating and saturating him. Even the mindful cape lays across the terminal. Unlike his first contact in Savage’s lair, Duo is calm while his eyes roll into the back of his head, his jaw tremors and his fingertips burn. The terminal is more important than him, the Fellowship and Steve Bateman. It is not a tool for him to control. He holds the terminal and surrenders to the force he protects.
…
A starry night. The kind of night where young men propose to young women. The kind of night where the moon and the stars swirl, pushing the boundaries of love…out of the blue, into the black…of their souls. The kind of night where they think of the future and past. A bittersweet reminiscence of this—and perhaps many more—rendezvous in the sand. The kind of night where life and death lose meaning…and forever becomes a tangible piece of life. The kind of night where they kiss along the shore, the surge of salt and the sand in their pressed mouths.
“Raven, will you marry me?”
foodmart bows on one knee. In a smooth movement—like a magic trick, his palm clothes and opens. A felt box rests on it.
“You will? That’s great!”
foodmart jumps to his feet and hugs it. “It” being some bamboo, palm tree leaves and a cant lope with heavy makeup. His slumping structure of Raven collapses on the sand. foodmart leaves it be.
“This’ll break them up. She won’t be able to resist me after this.”
…
The church bell rings. A calling from a local monk.
Tidal wave!
Azoric removes the sheets. Outside, the city lives…but it is only…Azoric glances, no watch…really early in the morning…wait, did I hear?
His hiccups his next breath. Through the window—in the not far enough distance, a giant Tsunami the width of a mountain range descends on the town. The wave reaches hundreds of feet into the air. It reminds him of lying in bed and his mother tucking him in. A giant blanket pulled over his body—only this is considerably more dangerous.
“Raven!” He shakes her sleeping body.
“No, don’t stop. Just a little to the left, yeah…and my heel, don’t forget my heel.”
“This is no time to be dreaming about twenty-four hour service with a smile.”
He jumps out of bed and into his pants. Raven yawns, stretching her arms out. Her hair and eyes are a messy influx of beauty, soft and reliable—equivocal to the moonlight on a summers night. Her silk nightie tangos with her figure and offers enough leeway so she can toss during the night without tugging her shoulders into knots. In this world, owning it makes her feel like a Goddess, even though it won’t keep that spot where her thighs say hel-lo from freezing. With the group in a funk, Raven has had time to scour the town and acquire several luxuries as well as the nightie. Her favorites being scented candles, bubble bath and a Shonen Knife CD for her evening wash.
“What did you say?”
Azoric jumps on the bed. “No! Look!”
They run down the stairs. Raven zippers shut a travel bag carrying bras and shoes—a pair of Azoric’s boxers sag out from the nighties mid-thigh cut. Azoric grips her free wrist and against her objections, drags her along.
“Hey! Just one minute, okay? You don’t know what I had to go through for weeks. I am not leaving without this stuff!”
Azoric kicks open the door. Outside, the Monster stares them down.
It was much closer than I thought. We can’t get away. “Hold on to me. Don’t let go, when this wave hits—”
Several homes and businesses uproot whole and surf before folding like an umbrella. Like one giant sea shell, the roars of the ocean silences dying life. The wave consumes them with the energy of an angry toddler. The water burns in Azoric’s nostrils. His throat heaves it . The violent tide rockets him forwards while a crawling under surge swallows his life. He can’t tell if Raven holds on…he doesn’t know how she could. His heart beats in gasping strides and his mouth opens hoping for shallow water.
…
The water slams against the wall. That uncomfortable whine of bending metal precedes the house tipping on its side. Wooden logs break like toothpicks and water rushes the floor like twenty million snakes sweeping Marrin off her feet. She lands on her neck; submerged. The liquid tackles Zor, sliding him along the room and into fallen glass from a table.
“Zor!”
…
From his room, Punkr interests do not involve the stars. Duo won’t stop though. Around the telescope lay of plotted constellations, galaxies and planets.
Punkr does his own research when Duo leaves.
“Hmmm…who thought science could be so much fun?”
Through the telescope across the city, Punkr peeps on one of the local girls. She has just finished bathing in a giant basin. Milky suds slide along her. A fair skin of admirable depth—pink from the scrubbing but nurtured. She examines herself in a mirror, poking what should be perkier, pulling should be flatter and practicing lucid stares of love, lust, hate, infatuation.
“What is that behind her? It looks like a…” He moves from the telescope. “Phhhsstttt… Like a giant wave is gonna spice this story up—after all that has happened. Pleeeeeaaaaaasssse…”
…
The first sun raises. Morning brings peace.
People sprout out of their hiding places. Bald men have tuffs of seaweed for hair and wallets full of sand dollars. Women have seashells for bras. Children have starfish and crab shells for toys. And that is all they have, their homes gone. Those in so much loss do not speak a word—around them the sobs of mothers rain down.
“Raven! Settle down!”
Azoric plants his feet and grabs either end of her waist.
Raven rips backward and elbows Azoric in the nose. Free, she nails Duo, her foot crushing his stomach. She straddles him, wrapping her leg around his knee, flooring him into the ground. She jabs at his face, bloodying his nose and swelling an eye. “Do you know how long I wentout with a bra and shoes? And now, thanks to you I have to do it again! How am I supposed to fight for universal peace without proper support?”
Duo tilts his head either way but finds no recourse. The blood falls down his throat, forcing itself up in hacks.
Zor and Azoric call, one-two-three!
They grab hold of either arm and pry her up. Raven drags Duo along the ground. Duo’s wet shirt slips and she leaps forward, kicking him.
Duo spits red, wiping it on the cape. “At least I have the terminal.”
“To say the least. What about the village? It’s gone! That entire city, all those people are dead. And you nearly killed us.”
“Marrin doesn’t seem to mind.”
Marrin sits on a rock, quietly gathering her blue-green hair in fists and squeezing, like letting old wash water out of a rag.
“Cause she is dead! You can’t drowned her!”
Marrin interrupts. “Speaking of vampires, where has foodmart gotten to? Anyone seen him?”
“Not since last night when he was massaging my feet.” Raven shoves Azoric off her—upset that he muscled her to the ground. Men and their manliness, he is in for a surprise if he thinks I won’t kick his ass too. “Wait, no one has seen him? You killed my minion! Who’s gonna do stuff for me now? That’s it, now you’re gonna get it!”
Azoric bear hugs her again.
foodmart walks in, pounding some water out of his ear. Mo one can see the spilt blood on his pants. Marrin smells it on him. “Glad to know someone missed me.”
Raven’s slit eyes turn large and cute. Azoric releases her and she bounces over and hugs her quickie mart. “You’re alive!”
foodmart sticks his tongue out at Azoric. “Of course. However, it was less than pleasing a ride. How are you?”
“My feet hurt.” She pouts.
“All in due time.” He brushes his finger along her jaw line, admiring the nightie.
“What have you been up to?” Fields asks.
“Well, I was walking by the water and I saw everything discombobulated and I ran back to warn everyone. I only had time to warn the monk at the church.”
“You did that?” Raven’s eyes run over with admiration.
That sly vampire smile—a mischievous little light bulb burns bright in foodmart’s head. “Absolutely. And I saved ten babies, five in each arm.” Raven’s mouth drops. “And some kittens, sick children, disabled widows and the blind man. I swear I was coming for you next baby.”
Fields and Raven jump in glee, giggling—they collectively hug foodmart and sigh. “You’re so brave!”
“Oh please,” Marrin says. “He hid under a rock like the rest of us.”
…
Between foodmart’s finger and thumb is the silver space of hope he held. “You had to tell it like it was, didn’t you?”
Marrin rolls her shoulder. Her tattered clothing hasn’t dried. She has taken her shirt, which was in pieces and formed it around her breasts, tying it between her shoulders—transforming a tomboy Marrin into a head turner. Her rounded shoulders, deep collar and hard stomach don’t have the same grace of Raven or Fields.
“You’ve never had a chance with Raven.”
They walk towards the woods collecting valuable supplies, once the possessions of the towns people. When the victims figure out that no act of nature caused the tidal wave, the Fellowship would be making a hasty exit.
foodmart says, “So why’d you drag me along on this. Wouldn’t you rather take Zor?”
“Sometimes its nice to be among your own kind, which means I have to settle for you. Or maybe I’m not settling at all. I think it is obvious you’re the vampire here.”
“What?”
“Please, I can smell it on you. You’ve been feeding.”
foodmart looks away. “So what? I’m a vampire. I feed.”
“Not in this world you don’t. I find it funny. Here everyone thinks you’re this little wimp and all the while you’ve been killing. How many? Eight, ten—more? Not even I have been feeding here.”
“What you do or don’t do is none of my concern. What I do and don’t do is none of yours.”
Off in the trees, they hear voices conspiring. Both fear the town in the form of a mob. Being a vampire during the seventeen hundreds, Marrin knows how to avoid a lynching. She motions foodmart to follow. They flank the voices and spy through some shrubbery. Azoric uses a tree branch for a pull-up bar. Zor sits on a stump next to him, shirtless and in a glistening sweat. His arms and abs have taken shape.
Finally, that teasing about him being a weak human did some good, Marrin thinks.
“Oh, look at that, it’s lover boy, isn’t it?”
“They look so much alike. Tall and skinny—but not scrawny. Long purple hair, those curls… Just think what it might be like if they were both mine.”
foodmart half-smiles. “Why Marrin, I never would have guessed.”
“Maybe with the Matrix I could get more. Do you know what three of them could do for a girl?”
foodmart chuckles, Zor and Azoric don’t hear. “Oh—right, some kind of clone? Are you crazy? I know…I know, maybe we could name him Zor Prime; and incorporate some weird plot with attention starved triplets. And Zor could have some memory problems and we have to restore them to figure out the truth behind the Matrix.”
…
“…red 1, 2, 3, 4, wild card, draw 4, draw 2, draw 4, draw 4, uno, and Blue 1. You lose.”
Sixty flips through the two dozen Uno cards on the coffee table. “It’s not possible. How could you get that from the deal? I haven’t even had a turn. Oh, I see, magic…very funny.”
The game bores Savage. “Backstabber is still on the surface with the Fellowship. I wonder when he’ll be coming back.”
“When he is in search of a uncompetitive, slanted cheater.” Sixty walks to the observation window. At the aft of Maxwell Station, the Veritech hanger sits lifeless. The fighters are useless with the Matrix in separate pieces. “So what do you want to do?”
“I don’t know. I guess we could go to the surface and stir up trouble with the Fellowship—seeing how they are our sworn enemies.”
“Sworn? Since when did we swear?”
“Okay, they aren’t our sworn enemies. They are just our enemies.”
“Why? I rather like the bloats. They seem to be having good time.”
“Because we’re good and they are bad. No—they’re good and we’re bad. Oh, I am so confused, why doesn’t Backstabber explain these things more?”
The ship shakes. The emergency lights trigger and warning sirens blare. An automated voice relays information: Contact is sector B-12. Contact in sector B-12. The ships outer wall has been punctured. Auto restoration has began and all systems should return to normal in ten seconds.
Savage grabs the table. “What happened?”
“It’s Apollyon! The idiot has crashed into us!”
A screening monitor appears. Apollyon waves, his blond hair combed over his left eye. He flicks the collar of his gray, blue and black flight suit. “Hey guys! Just thought the Soyokosa and I would give you a little love tap, no harm done, right?”
…
The newly homeless ignore Duo. They always thought that cape was different—not right. None has proof, they need only look at his face.
“Don’t get too down on yourself.” Fields pats him on the back. “After all, we are here to prevent evil from destroying all the universes. Sooner or later we had to find the terminal.”
“I suppose.”
“It still worries me that you did that. I am beginning to think—”
“Maybe the Matrix and the cape don’t mix?”
The cape might not let go of the terminal. The cape lost its usually rigid stance when the terminal was near—becoming looser than a drunken cocktail waitress. It accepted the terminal with no qualms. All Duo has to do is wrap the terminal in the cape and it disappeared. Hidden in the capes alter-universe of magic. When Duo needs the terminal, the simple thought returns it to his hands.
Fields flings her sun dried hair and trips on her heels. Duo catches and steadies her. “Or maybe they do mix and you’re not ready for it.” Field keeps her eyes low, watching the ground. Anymore mistakes and she’ll give herself away. “Maybe someone should hold onto the terminal. Just for now. When you think you can handle it, we’ll give it back to you.”
Without his calling, the Matrix materializes in Duo’s hands.
“You don’t understand the power of this thing.”
She relies on her dark, feline curl of innocence. “What’s the matter, Duo? Don’t you trust me?”
…
Punkr and Raven walk the town.
“Listen Raven, I’m sure there are some spare clothes around here somewhere.”
Raven’s silk nightie does not provide much comfort. As well the sea water has ruined it. No longer soft and precious, it feels like sandpaper. Azoric’s boxers also say little for fashion—at least it conceals herself from the world.
The harsh brute of Raven’s face dissolves.
“Punkr, I’m sorry for exploding earlier. It’s just that, in my other life, I was important. People fussed over me and the show couldn’t go on without me. Here, no one could give two cents and every time I acquire a suitable amount of clothing that conceals a majority of my body something happens and I’m half naked again.”
Punkr points in the distance. “A standing building!”
Why is it every time I start talking about myself with a guy, he points out something as stupid as a building?
Against all logic a building has survived with not one shingle, paint stroke, or hinge out of place. There is no sign identifying the kind of business but the lavender shutters and white curtains squeal—this is a store for women. Raven’s heart flutters. Maybe it is a designer shop, with something sexy for the powers that be and could provide proper coverage. She opens the door. Inside the store is dark. Raven bumps into a display. She doesn’t need light to know what she knocked over.
Punkr swipes a match.
“Thongs? It can’t be! Nothing but thongs!” Raven cries in agony.
White pegboard lines each wall, thongs for every occasion hang from hooks. Towards the back, black leather thongs—with an almost radioactive shine—fill an entire shelf. Simple cotton thongs of harsh reds and blues to soft pastels from an endless pallet. Some are see-through lace. In a corner of the store, a sign hangs that reads: Around the World (no pun intended), where culturally oriented thongs comfortably and fashionably contour themselves to the cracks of manikins. Deep red Latina thongs—with white tassels and frizz. Viking thongs, with long yellow braid pigtails hanging off either hip. Petite Asian thongs of red, a yellow threaded design of a dragon with serpent tongue (once again, no pun intended) stitched on its front. For the costume happy type, Pretty Sailor Scout Thongs have just arrived and occupy the stores floor displays—this outlet is lucky to have both the S and R design lines. Special Limited Edition Quadrono Leader thongs in a deep purple with green Zentraedi logo. And the special Initial D line, which simply states: Can you tackle these curves?
Raven closes her eyes, clam down…calm down…calm down…you can assemble something. She pokes through a small selection of camisoles.
…
“Sixty, you stole this ship. What do you care if a little damage should befall it?”
Sixty’s protocoffee cup smashes against the wall. “Why don’t we spear your ship and we’ll see what you have to say about it!”
“I don’t own that ship, UN Spacey does. We stole them. We should be able to destroy them. You think this ship is damaged, go steal another.”
Sixty’s fists clinch, ready to knock this pretty boy lady stealing jerk half way across the station, pick him up and knock him across the remaining half. “If it were that simple, I would! There aren’t any space fortresses left for me to hijack.”
“At least when Steve Bateman pulled his magic act, he didn’t send you to the wrong side of the universe.” Apollyon pulls out the first terminal and slams it on the table. “Now that I am here we can reconstruct the Matrix. You’ll be able to create ten thousand Maxwell Stations.”
“How wrong you are. Our trusted associate Savage lost his to the Fellowship.”
“That idiot! When Savage gets back, I’ll…”
“You’ll what?” Savage walks into the room.
Backstabber follows, shifting weight like a drunken seal. “I am never going to get used to the transformation process. We still have the girl, right?”
“Fields? Yeah, she is in one of the holding cells on deck C.”
“Keeping her alive is my best idea yet. I need her to teach me how to walk in heels. My inexperience almost gave me away. As it is, I have to constantly dodge conversations with Raven. All she wants to talk about is make-up and Azoric.”
Apollyon salutes his Commander. “Backstabber it is good to see you again. I have brought my piece of the Matrix.”
Backstabber pulls out the second terminal. “And I have brought mine. I used the feminine charms I’ve picked up in these last weeks to woo it right out of the Fellowship’s hands. Quickly, bring me the other pieces.”
Sixty retrieves the glass casing. The cocoon flowers float among an overpowering green vine. Apollyon sets his piece of the Matrix on the table. For a moment all three look at the Matrix in its broken form. Each gasps at its greatness. How great they will become as well.
Backstabber examines the glass casing. He fusses with a small latch, becoming impatient with it over time. He pulls, pushes and rotates.
“May I ask what you are doing?” Apollyon asks.
“I am removing the child lock. The Matrix isn’t a toy.”
Backstabber wets his lips. He screws the terminals into place. Once the Matrix activates not even Steve Bateman can stop him.
His fingers grip the terminal and his palms flex against the metal. An off white light escapes out of the casing. The flowers blossom. Maxwell Station’s systems warm up, churning along their program codes. The lights turn on. The flight deck opens up. The defense systems reset. The Station is back alive. Sixty smiles—the Vertiechs, they will be functional soon. Soon, the sounds and noises of the ship overpower the light show. This is not good, Sixty thinks. Why is everything running on overdrive like this? It must be the Matrix. The Matrix only shines brighter, in response light bulbs burst—one by one. System indicator lights flash in furious repetitiveness. A system board blows, sparks fly with smoke. The gravitational systems of the station lose course and slant towards the planet.
As it falls, it bangs against The Soyokaze. The metals collide and hook each other.
“My ship! This big hunk of junk is gonna destroy my ship!”
“What’s the matter Apollyon? I thought you could just go steal another one!”
…
A rare evening fog sweeps the land.
On the outskirts of town, the only place they can stay—Marrin, Zor, foodmart and Duo have started a fire. They cook a meal from one of Azoric’s kills. foodmart is unmoved by the meat—missing his vampire ways. Marrin sits in silence, ignoring Zor’s eyes—which rarely leave her toned stomach. Duo sits on a log pouting, chin in hand, dead to the world. Zor turns the meat when it smells burnt.
Raven, Punkr and Azoric arrive and without saying hellos, sit down and sulk.
Raven tugs at her leather hot pants.
“What happened to you?” Marrin asks.
“I found some clothes.”
Punkr notices the condition of Marrin’s threads…that they are in fact, threads. “There is more in the town if you want it.”
“Do I look like Maxim UK?”
After weeks of normal living, the frozen winds, painful hunger and loneliness affect the group within minutes. Azoric tosses another log on the fire. An awful smelling smoke raises from the rejuvenated flames. It dies down and the group huddles together, Azoric with Raven, Zor with Marrin, foodmart with foodmart.
“Alright, we can’t let this get us down. This is a quest. It isn’t suppose to be easy.”
The group doesn’t respond.
Duo shouts in agony. He grabs his head and falls on to his knees, his nostrils letting in a cloud of dirt. With Duo’s screams, the cape flaps straight in surprise and weeps after.
“What’s going on? Another tidal wave?” Punkr asks.
“The Matrix! It is the Matrix! They’ve assembled it.” They has a name. “Backstabber! Backstabber has assembled the Matrix. But how? He doesn’t have the second termin—” Duo reaches into the cape. For the first time he feels only fabric. The terminal…it’s not…no…
“There. You see it?” Marrin points.
Zor follows her finger. “Is it coming from outer space?”
In the sky a red dot, the size of a penny, falls onto the planet—a trail of heat following it.
“It will crash in those mountains.”
Azoric grabs his bow—he can do nothing but feels better with a weapon. “Where is Fields?”
The voice that answers is not familiar. It is deep and God-like, apocalyptic.
“She has betrayed us.” The same light spewing from the Matrix now spews from Duo. His eyebrows are on fire and his blue hair stands straight. “She has betrayed us and she must pay.”
“What are you talking abou—ahhhh!” Zor breaststrokes for the ground after his feet find weightlessness. The rest of the group elevates.
Beneath them, the once suffering fire spreads to a large circle, walls encasing them. It is coming from Duo’s magics.
Raven hunches over. “Spinning! We’re spinning!”
On the outside, members of the town run. The tornado of fire threatens their makeshift shanties. Just as the fire reaches town, it leaps—a cycling inferno of reds, yellows and oranges rainbow across the black.
“foodmart! Watch out! Just like humans, we will die if we start on fire!”
foodmart shrieks and rips his black shirt, the sleeve of it gone in a flame.
The spinning fire dissolves. They stand where the steep edge of a mountain turns flat. A quarter mile away, Maxwell Station and the Soyokaze are flaming wrecks.
By them, the henchmen…
Apollyon, Lord of Fire and Flame
Sixty, Lord of Darkness and Black
Savage, Lord of Pain and Anguish
Backstabber holds out the Matrix.
“You are too late! Too late to save the universes. This world is mine to command now!”
Loose pieces of rumble and rock float in midair. Backstabber smiles and the rocks hurl themselves at the Fellowship.
Raven slides under foodmart, who can not be killed by the lethal rocks.
“I’m going to die in a thong, I don’t believe it.”
“Die in a what?”
Men… Raven rolls her eyes and unenthusiastically says, “I said, I can’t believe I am going to die, it is so wrong.”
“Oh… Yeah, that’s what I thought you said.”
Lord of the Matrix 