Archive for the ‘Authors’ Category
The Gun Overheats
Thursday, January 29th, 2009
It’s Friday, and something’s gone awry again, preventing you from seeing the cool story Mr. Lundberg has prepared for you. Please bear with us while we attempt to exorcise whatever computerological demons are afflicting us on a weekly basis.
Day 1724
The Gun overheats in the sun. Not fired once and still it overheats.
Beyond the city, the salt plains shimmer.
Maintenance comes and re-wires the coolant systems. Bart pisses himself when the plasma system creaks and they all run screaming. It’s been doing that since the third summer of the siege.
Day 1745
“They’re not coming,” Bart says.
We do this about once a month. “If They weren’t coming, we wouldn’t be here,” I say. I go through the motions. There’s piss all else to do.
Day 1756
Battery 87 explodes today. I think this is it; it’s on at last. I jump into the seat, start the engines. Then we get the stand down order. Just a malfunction. Coolant failure.
Day 1764
Water rations cut again. Bart’s pissed. He says we’re the military. We should get concessions. I pray They come today, that They end this siege.
But They don’t come.
Day 1787
Officer inspection today. Bart gets it for the state of his uniform. I’ve been warning him for two weeks. Water rations aren’t treating him well. It’s tough for those with kids in the city. I get that. But we’ve still got to show we’re better than Them.
Day 1796
“They’re not coming.”
“If They weren’t coming, we wouldn’t be here.”
“You’re not listening to me!” Bart is close enough for me to smell his breath, sour and thick. “I mean, have you ever even seen Them? All I ever see through this scope is dust, and dirt, and salt. All I ever see is the barrel of this gun pointing at empty ground. I never even targeted a bird. Because They ain’t coming!”
Day 1797
Bart’s not here today.
Day 1798
I hear in the barracks–Bart’s been caught trying to cut the cooling systems. Bart’s working for Them, officer’s say. Bart’s to be shot at noon.
I sit by the Gun and strain my ears. I think I hear the first shots I’ve heard this whole war.
Day 1799
Bart was right. They’re not coming.
It’s hot today. I’m overheating. I unbutton my shirt. I look through the scopes. I see the dirt, see the dust, see the salt. And then I see a bird, its wing broken, scuffing on the floor.
I keep the sights on that bird, lying there, waiting to die. I open fire.
Inventory
Wednesday, January 28th, 2009
You are standing at an existential crossroads, a wasteland at your feet and a song on your lips. Overhead, a trio of mechanical vultures have begun circling, and the red dots of their laser-sights are crawling across your bare chest.
To the west runs a dank near-motionless river, and every now and then something thrashes around in the water. The way east is blocked by an endless sense of ennui. South is a burning city, and an ex-wife to whom you owe alimony. To the north stretches an endless desert, with rumours of a herd of undead camels. There is a gleaming muscle-car parked here, but passage to it is blocked by an enormous white bull.
There is a set of tubular bells here, and a three-legged stool. There is a sign on the river bank.
Obvious exits are North, South, and Angst.
>READ SIGN
It says “Do Not Swim”
>GO SOUTH
Your wife’s divorce lawyer is eyeing you from the city outskirts. Are you sure?
>INVENTORY
You are carrying:
Compass
Pistol
Divorce Papers
3 Bullets
Your Sense of Self-Respect
Wet Towel
A Mid-Life Crisis
Toasted Cheese Sandwich
>GET INTO CAR
The bull paws at the ground and snorts. Are you sure?
>PLAY A SONG
I’m sorry, I can’t understand that command.
>PLAY TUBULAR BELLS
You hit at the bells. You haven’t been trained in the musical artistry of tubular bells, and the sound seems to anger the bull. You now regret torching the Tubular Bell Academy.
>SHOOT BULL
Your pistol is unloaded
>LOAD PISTOL
You try, only to discover that these are chocolate bullets.
>LOOK AT BULL
Blocking your passage to the muscle-car is an enormous albino bull. This powerful creature towers over you, with blood-stained horns and a piercing gaze that speaks of great intelligence. It is looking at you expectantly, but warily.
>GIVE SANDWICH TO BULL
It sniffs at your cheese sandwich with disgust.
>GET STOOL
You pick up the three-legged stool.
>SIT ON STOOL
You sit down on the stool and rest.
[STAMINA +3]
>MILK BULL
What are you, some kind of wise guy?
>READ DIVORCE PAPERS TO BULL
The wet towel has soaked everything in your pack! The papers are ruined.
>WRING OUT TOWEL
The towel is now dry, and should be safe to put in your pack.
>GIVE BULL YOUR SENSE OF SELF-RESPECT
The bull is satisfied with your offering, and leaps into the river to fight with the unseen water-creature. It’s an epic battle of the titans, and will likely go on for hours.
>GET INTO CAR
You open the driver’s door and climb in. It smells good.
>START CAR
The muscle-car roars into life, and the fuel gauge leaps to full. “Born to be Wild” is playing on the stereo.
>GO NORTH
You floor it.